Harsh Reality
~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Zel the Stampede
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Disclaimer: I don't own Zelda in any way, shape, or form.
Chapter 9! ^_^ THE CLIMAX CHAPTER! AHHHH! ;_; (The OTHER half of it, part 1 of the CLIMAX chapter was chapter 8…)
To make up for that nasty cliffhanger, I've provided a VERY LONG chapter 9! It's about twice as long as the other chapters so ENJOY!
MOVING ON…
I received two requests for this chapter:
REQUEST #1: Was put in by A Jasmine Mist who wanted to see a bit more of Zelda in the story. I'll admit I've been giving Link, Malon, Sheik, Navi (both of 'em) and Gannondorf a little too much time in the limelight and flat-out ignoring the role Zelda plays in this drama. So, I've included a little page or so bit on Zelda's life in the 'real world' and her problems. (While Link has dementia, Zelda has a dilemma.)
REQUEST #2: Was sent in by Genichiro Tsukiomi, and unfortunately, not nearly as easy to fulfill as the first request. I'm so sorry but I can't have Link and Malon as a couple, because real world Malon is married. (See the end of chapter 7.) And the couple would totally overthrow the planned flow of the story, which would be bad.
R&R!
~~~~~~
Chapter 9: The Puzzle Ring
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Koume had transformed her séance parlor into the flickering mirror of Hell. Ribbons of methane-blue and red-gold entwined, crisping the air with their braid. Navi swallowed, phoenixes swooping and cawing about the grief-stricken witch. 'Oh goddess,' she fell against Link, clutching a bit of his tunic, 'We're going to die.'
The heat was needles dancing over Sheik's nape, all the while, the corpse formerly known as Kotake roasted cheerfully in her sister's bonfire. The flesh cooked away to ashes, leaving a blackened, bird-like skeleton to smolder. Hot gusts swept past, rustling Sheik's bangs, the flaming tentacles were thrashing about, tumbling over the platform, searching for him.
"Sheik!" Navi called through the blazing tempest, not daring to stray from Link, "Sheik! Where are you?!" Sheik frowned, even the 'wise, all-knowing' guardian fairy had her moments of ignorance. The Fire sorceress now knew exactly where she and Link were, which immediately brought up the question of did she care?
"Sheikiah bastard," Koume hissed angrily, "Where are you? I'll boil you down! And make a necklace of your pathetic bones for Kotake's grave!!" Bright whirlwinds slithered over the floor as Sheik drew his tiny, sickle blade.
"SHEIKIAH?!" Koume raged, "WHERE ARE YOU HIDING!?" Sheik gripped the little handle and charged. Plowing through the foggy inferno, fiery tendrils licking his skin. He winced; embers brushed his face, smudging dark, charred streaks. Koume hovered above the blaze, venting her fury as flames consumed the room. All he needed was a clear shot…
Navi gasped, the tongues of flame invading her and Link's little niche of safety. She drew her little dagger, summoning up enough magic for a weak fairy shield, its surface wavering as the intruding glitters threatened to breach it.
Koume scanned the room, peering for her adversary through the smoky haze. A wicked grin further twisted her features as she called up a single, lethal meteor to strike the villain where he stood. Sheik took a breath, said a prayer, and let the dagger fly. The little silver crescent bolted through the air, and struck Koume, dead center, in the middle of her forehead. The hag's large eyes rolled back in her skull and she fell, devoured by her own magic as it too dwindled and died.
The chamber was bare though not unscathed, ashen scars marred the walls and ruined the cobbles. The rubbish of Twinrova's spell casting was chewed and blackened beyond recognition. Navi and Link occupied the lone patch of sound flooring, feebly guarded by Navi's shriveling barrier. Sheik staggered towards them, burnt and bleeding in many places. Clasping a wounded shoulder as he sunk down on one knee, "He's not dead, is he?" Navi frowned, fidgeting nervously, "I-I don't know."
The Hero of Time choked terribly; the coughs rattling his ribcage as he dragged air into his lungs. Color flooded his face as he quieted, and Navi looked ready to cry with relief. Sheik grimaced, tilting Link's chin slightly, "Something's wrong, he should have woken up. The witches are dead." His frown deepened as questions set in, just what sort of spell had those two buzzards put on him?
"W-we have to get him help!" Navi said, "he'll die-" Sheik hushed her with a wave of his hand and rose, rigidly heaving the unconscious hero on his back. He stumbled and ordered gruffly, "Come on, I have a friend-she'll know what to do." Navi nodded and faltered suddenly, "Wait." She drifted from Sheik, to a small portion of clean stone, where Aife's body lay miraculously unharmed by the flames. Navi sniffled, suppressing another flood of tears and delicately closed the blank eyes.
"We have to bury her, Sheik," she said slowly. Sheik frowned, annoyed, "Slip her into Link's pockets, he must have room." Navi carefully lifted Aife's shell and eased the corpse into Link's pouch, knotting the tether firmly before latching onto the green folds as Sheik shuffled over to the door.
* * *
Voices, far-off and wavering, tickled Link's ears before their whispers were suddenly swallowed in the requiem of cathedral bells from across town.
A horde of faceless women swaying and hovering above greeted Link as he woke. Ghostly in blue-white jumpers, the contour of their faces shielded in ivory masks. Link fought a cringe, running his tongue over his lip, tasting tart strawberry and the faint, gluey flavor of lip gloss, mutely reminding him of Zelda's kisses.
"Mr. Riles, are you all right?" A solitary redhead sat silhouetted against the white fog of featureless nurses. Her delicate fingers held his in a light clasp, curly, copper-colored wisps of hair framed her face, her blue eyes mirrored a very familiar earnest, and her right hand was swathed in gauze.
He nodded, suddenly knowing this woman as Navi's doctor, the woman from the other night.
"Good," Malon rose and turned to a phantom nurse, suddenly made solid, "see to it Mr. Riles is settled down and comfortable," she said, gently yet stern, "And no more injections, not until we can figure out the problem."
"Dr. Kit, I don't believe one should give such others when she is out of her field of authority." An almost tangible tension filtered into the room as Dragmire's shadow haunted the threshold.
"I know, but-"
"I thought you were leaving early," Dragmire interjected, "Going to get your arm looked at."
"I was-but I heard Riles choking," Malon said, stammering at first, something about her colleague all of a sudden wanted to make her cringe. Dragmire smiled, small and knowingly, "My, my, Dr. Kit, what a day you've had." Malon frowned, dropping a weight on her temper before it ran away with her.
"Yes, and I was just leaving. Good night, Doctor." Malon glided by, masking her anger before it lashed out and strangled Dragmire for his damned arrogance, thinking that he could play her like this! But she absolutely refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her make a jackass of herself like earlier. Malon didn't touch any doors between room 231 and her office.
* * *
Navi wrinkled her nose as she stirred. Tea. Not just any tea, but green tea. She hated green tea. Or maybe that was just Anju the Cucco-keeper's green tea.
Navi found herself in a cottage, a very tiny but well-kept bungalow. The atmosphere perfumed with a rich blend of herbs and spices, the most distinct being clouds of lavender-scented incense burning from an oil-lamp. Orient rugs carpeted in the dusty clay-floor and chimes hung from the rafters, worked of gleaming bits of gold and bronze-colored glass, accompanied by more incense-burning lamps. All the while, a cheery brass-wrought kettle whistled in the hearth from which came the appalling odor of Green tea.
"Sentindo melhor?" the voice was feminine yet husky but most undoubtedly, Gerudo. Navi stiffened, the woman was very tall like all her kind, with red hair hanging loosely to her waist, bronzed skin, and amber eyes flecked with silver. A robe of dark, gleaming velvet was drawn about her shoulders with silver runes stitched along the cherry-silk hem. A sorceress, a Gerudo sorceress, barely within her mid-twenties and a far-more gentler sight to the eyes then the Twinrova sisters.
Navi was never very good with Gerudo lingo and the tiny wheels in her brain whorled as she struggled to translate, after coming up hopelessly with jumbled up sentences running along the lines of 'I'm going to eat you, little one!' She panicked. The Gerudo woman sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward, her heavy accent bore down on her Hylian, "Feeling better?" Navi swallowed and nodded stiffly.
"You talk, don't you?" the Gerudo inquired dryly. Navi stopped herself in mid-nod, "Yes, I talk." The woman poured herself a mug of the dreaded green tea. Steamy wisps drifting up from the earthen cup, "Name?"
Navi was reluctant to trust this woman and even more reluctant to give details about names, places, and people she was associated with.
"Navi," she said simply. The Gerudo grinned, "Navi, eh? Well, Navi, my name is Soara."
"Where am I?" Navi asked.
"You, and your companions, are in my house," Soara said curtly, "which is in the Haunted Wasteland, about half a mile or so from the Bombchu-merchant."
"How did I get here?" Navi pried. Soara brushed off her question, fetching a thimble from the cupboard, "Tea?"
"No thank you."
"Cream then?"
"Sure," Navi said, "now how did we get here?"
"I brought you here," Soara replied, gingerly filling the thimble with fluffy cream. The embers popped and crackled in the hearth as Navi sipped her milk, "Where are my friends?"
"Sleeping in the next room," Soara answered, shifting through the cabinets, briefly muttering about missing biscuits, "the little fairy's in bad shape." Navi's face snapped up from gazing idly at the cracked surface of the table, "Aife? She's-"
"Very much alive," Soara assured, "though very much wounded, red fairies can only die when their healing powers are spent, you know. Poor thing, I almost overlooked her until I heard her bells." Navi nodded slowly, she hadn't know; oh poor Aife…
After a draw-out search of the pantry, Soara produced the missing tin of biscuits and a little jar of honey. And a few beeswax candles were tucked under one arm along with a sealed jar of dried fruit.
"Now, if I may," Navi went on, Soara half-listening as she hastily arranged the assorted objects, "How did you find us?"
"I've been assigned out here by order of Lady Nabooru, finding the runaways is my duty," Soara said, sitting down to savor her tea again after adding a few spoonfuls of sugar. "Hylians, Gerudos, doesn't matter who, if they run, they usually run here and they get lost in the sandstorms. And if I don't find them then they die and I find their corpses." Navi flinched at the almost ironic way she spoke.
"Too be honest, I thought your friend was dead, bleeding as he was," Soara idly swirled shriveled tea leaves around in her mug. Navi nodded very slowly, absorbing in gazing, trance-like, at the woman's ring.
"I like your ring," she said, smiling.
"Why thank you," Soara answered, glancing down at her old ring, "it's a good-luck charm of mine, I've had it for so long. It's a puzzle ring." Navi frowned, "I've never seen one of those, why do they call it a 'puzzle ring'?" She said, examining the ring as Soara extended her hand closer, it was made up of a wide band of silver set with nine, little drops of onyx.
"Because, nine different, intersecting rings make up the whole ring and if you take it off they come apart," Soara explained, "and it's very difficult to put back together."
"Oh," Navi sat back down the makeshift bed of almond-colored linens; "it's still pretty." Soara smiled at the familiar hoop hugging her finger; pretty, yes, though very much a bitch to put back together if the band ever slipped off. A sardonic ring.
The Gerudo Sorceress rose from her chair, billows of silky ebony rippling as she moved.
"Your friend should be awake now," Soara said, readying a funny-smelling potion of a violent red color, "at least the stupid one." Navi grinned, rising, rickety, from her nest of quilted scarves. Her wing was whole and unbroken, smeared with red potion, while scars crisscrossed over the silvery scales, but thankfully, very useable.
The bedroom stank of medicine and blood, balms and opium; Navi breathed through her mouth. Bloodied bandages gathered in a wastebasket while fresh, clean ones lay waiting to be applied. A collection of narrow glass vials containing various powders cluttered a low table. Worn and beaten volumes of medicine were hoarded on a shelf, which bent slightly with their weight, a cache of needles of different length and thickness and spools of a dark thread pervaded in an open desk drawer. Soara's medicinal storeroom and infirmary.
On the room's far side, Link occupied a bench, sleeping easily as if he didn't have a care in the world. Sprawling on his pallet, Sheik lacked that luxury. He lay on his back, his shirt and the hood hung up on a peg above; burns were daubed in opaque ointment and bandages grasped his wounds, crimson blotting the wrappings. A grimace was etched on his still features and Navi imagined that he was in quite a bit of pain. The muscles eased and a sleepy serenity passed over Sheik. Navi sighed dreamily; he was very, very handsome without the headgear.
"Hello fairy girl," Sheik murmured, agony bit sorely as he tested the tender areas while the bruises that seemed to blotch just about everywhere were turning a stormy purple color.
"Ya dead yet?" Navi asked wryly.
"No, not quite," Sheik said, sitting up, "care to share, fairy girl, as to where are we?"
"A Gerudo Outpost," Navi answered, gently setting down on the sandy floor, "A Gerudo witch is running the place, she seems…nice."
"Nice as in trustworthy? Or nice as in she'll dig our graves herself?"
"Trustworthy nice," Navi finished. Sheik smiled and eased his shirt on over his injuries, wincing as the cloth snagged on uneven bandages. Link sighed in his sleep but did not wake, provoking more of Navi's obvious distress. Sheik yanked on his boots and mustered up a optimistic grin to lighten the dispirited Navi.
"Do you-do you think maybe the Sorceress can cure Link?" she asked meekly. Now that, Sheik did not know, for his experience with Gerudos was limited, and what he could draw from it was you could get a Gerudo to do just about anything if you paid her enough rupees.
"I don't know," Sheik said.
"We could bribe her," Navi suggested hopefully. Sheik played with the thought then recalled that, annoyingly, he hadn't seen a paycheck in weeks and his wallet was suffering a heavy decline in necessary funds.
"Your clothes are all bloody," Navi said matter-of-factly. Sheik frowned and glanced down at his shirt, worn and frayed, rust-red stains and dark charred marks ruined the material.
"She left you some extra clothes if ya wanna change," Navi offered, "And hurry up! Our hostess was very nice to have helped us out! Don't be rude and keep her waiting!" Navi shot off, a blue flash that nimbly avoided the thick-curtain serving as a door and vanished into the outer room.
The aforementioned clothing was folded neatly at the foot of Sheik's pallet. Carefully stitched and cut in the style of any common desert-dweller's outfit, meaning first and foremost, no sleeves. Only a deep indigo tunic that fitted loosely around his torso, sparing his bruises a little pain, and beige trousers.
The room beyond was warm, its amber light creeping in under the curtain. The air perfumed with a sigh of mild lavender and cinnamon. Sheik parted the curtain warily; a young Gerudo woman was seated at the table, cradling a clayware goblet in her fingers. Something popped in the kettle over the grate.
"Ah, good," she said, catching Sheik in a sideways gaze, "you're both awake. Please sit down." Sheik frowned; there was something terribly familiar about this woman, a knowledge that fled when he searched his memory for it. Meanwhile Navi gnawed happily at a bit of cookie dusted in sugar.
"Sheik," Navi said, putting her cookie down, "This is Soara, Soara, this is Sheik."
"It's pleasure to finally meet you, Sheik," Soara said, "Awake." Sheik smirked a little bit, "And I've heard only good things of you, Soara." Soara grinned, sitting down again and pushing a steaming cup of tea towards Sheik.
"That wasn't a wise thing you did, trying to carry that boy across the desert when you're half-dead yourself," she chided, her voice biting with its familiar sting.
"We're very grateful you found us," Navi said, licking a bit of sugary crumb off her finger. Soara nodded, watching Sheik closely with her candlelight-eyes, "But why were you in the desert?"
"Business," Sheik said quickly, taking a draught of his tea. It was very good tea, unmistakably orange spiced with ginger.
"Business?" Soara challenged, "What sort of business?" Navi chewed her lip, looking hopelessly at Sheik as he tensed, glaring at the woman draped in sable mage robes and her golden eyes chilled him. As if they could pierce their way right into all his secrets.
"I-I'm afraid we can't answer that," Navi said, apprehensive. Soara folded her hands beneath her chin, lowering her amber gaze. The wind, hot and dry, relentlessly battering the tiny dwelling in the ink-stained and starless night outside.
"My given task is to act as Border guard," Soara said gravely, "I patrol the desert just beyond the River of Sand. Slaves from the fortress escape and sometimes manage to cross the river. It's my duty to arrest them and execute them." Navi stiffened, her eyes darting nervously to Sheik, who was silently drumming his fingers on the table.
"If you're Ganondorf's soldiers, I can offer only brief quartering, but," Soara's face was stony, an unreadable mask, "you're not soldiers. And you're not slaves. Who are you?"
"That, we can't answer either," Sheik said firmly. Soara grimaced, glowering at Sheik through narrowed eyes. She softened and curled her fingers about her cup again.
"Sixteen years after the Great War was done and resolved, the King of Hyrule sent a Sheikiah spy to watch over the valley," something flickered in Soara's icy amber eyes, "He acted as one of the thieves' boyfriends during his time there. I was very small then and disowned by my relatives. I worked and lived below in the dark, lower levels of the fortress with other children like me…in the basements where Ganondorf kept the forges and the ovens where he burned betrayers. Many little children died in those pits, from disease, accidents, and the toxic fumes the forges belched daily.
"One night, the Sheikiah came downstairs and paid me for a tour of the Pits. He gave me a ring for my silence and asked that I testify before the King's court. Living proof that Lord Ganondorf sanctioned child labor, violating the current Trade codes. But…he was caught. Hung and cremated, I was there. So, my question is…why is he sitting in my parlor fifteen years later?" Sheik was stone and ice. Despite the fixed barriers, Soara pressed, "You are Sheik. You've said so yourself."
"Soara, I'm sorry-"
"Sorry?" Soara said sharply, "What on Earth are you sorry for? You died! Got careless and got caught! Shit like that happens! What I want to know is what the hell are you doing here when you're supposed to be dead?!" Navi was dumbfounded; Sheik was dead? Soara calmed, falling back on her chair, her forehead in her hands, "I imagine that was a real whammy of a necromancy spell, eh? Who brought you back?"
"Impa did," Sheik replied.
"The Shadow Sage? Necromancy is her skill now?" Soara asked skeptically.
"It isn't," Sheik went on, "the spell is only for a time."
"You're possessing someone? Who?"
"It's not my liberty to say."
Soara scowled, not at all satisfied with Sheik taking a sudden interest with the floor, "Just what are you getting out of this? Money? A free pass to Elysium? Dare I say it-sex?"
"A brief second chance to live, love, and lose. Then I'm dead again," Sheik said, mildly surprised with the string of words from Soara's lips. There was a pause. "You got ripped off."
"I know."
* * *
On bustling downtown streets, in business skyscrapers, everyplace where mankind works long-hour jobs and goes days without sleeping, caffeine is worshipped. Glorified like the Gods of Old in street-corner shrines and shopping-mall chapels. Our nickels, dollars, and dimes sacrificed daily on their cash register altars. Zelda Kinnian was such an attendant at one of these coffee house temples. Traversing to the little corner Starbucks after a nine to five job as a very hard-working and very tolerant secretary.
The Immortal caffeine governed over the little coffee shop as one of its many apparitions; this time, a figure etched in white, stars clutched at its forehead. Reigning above its many minions in uniform. 'Strawberry Kiss Kiss' purred from a distant radio and the perfume of roasting coffee beans accented the peaceful, sophisticated atmosphere.
This afternoon was particularly quiet as Zelda worked the four-hour shift with her two co-workers. A tall, black girl with her hair all done in dreadlocks named Anjel and a small, pale, blond girl whose name used to be Cleo before she changed it to 'Vanilla'-Nila for short.
The shop was empty and despite the background music hauntingly quiet. Anjel and Nila chatted feebly about the weather before discussing pop stars and their obviously fake boobs. Leaving Zelda alone, drifting in the void of her thoughts while silently sipping Pepsi from a straw. And the minutes ticked by.
Zelda didn't want to go home, didn't want to go back to that lonely flat and its mailbox full of bills. It hadn't been so bad when Link was…himself was the only word Zelda could find. She sighed, resting her head on her arms, her eyes quivering just a little…why did everything have to change? Everything had been perfect when Link was himself. Why did it all have to change? Why couldn't life still hold that blissful constancy it had six months ago?
'Do you like toffee and lemonade?
They used to taste so good hand-made,
Where are the smiles of yesterday?
Our childhood conversations?'
Six months ago…on that hazy night in June, when everything seemed slower, like a dream, movement left trailing shadows and lights budded like gaudy flowers. The air was so thick with music she could almost smell it as it shivered in her bones and pulsated in her chest like a second heartbeat.
"Link-"
"Don't worry, Zelly, I'll only be gone for a bit, half an hour-no less. I'm gonna drive Darunia and Saria back."
"But-" Her cheek trembled with his last kiss, light and fluttering over her skin, like a film of butter frosting over the dread rising in her gut. She remembered that Darunia was a friend of his who had come over from Denver just to see him, a big, burly man with a thatch of sandy hair and black eyes. Saria was a friend since high school, small and lithe, with hair dyed verdant green curling about her shoulders. Zelda let him go.
The contorted metal heap had swallowed Saria and Darunia both, and Link stopped breathing and suffered brain damage from a serious blow to the skull. 'I shouldn't have let him go…it's all my fault…'
Six long lonely months ago, everything had changed, weaving a confusing, dreary present. Where loving her Link was a lot like embracing an empty shell. He had become a vacant soul who wouldn't ever look at her the same way again and Zelda was caught in what seemed like a hopeless one-sided love. Her affections seemed spent and Link was too wrapped up in his dreams to notice or care, yet she couldn't leave. Link was all by himself, he wouldn't have anyone if she left. Zelda worked two jobs, lived alone, and endured the months behind and the months beyond all for him. It had been her fault, she let him go, screwed up her life and his, and she'd have to make it up to him.
Meanwhile, across the countertop, Anjel and Nila's topic of counterfeit breasts over home-brewed experimental coffees was exchanged for the heated controversy of saving Christianity from fundamentalism.
Zelda sniffled, trying fiercely not to cry and wishing a customer would come in or the pop machine might croak, anything to take her mind away.
'I'm only holding back the rain,
So many raindrops, so many pains.
I wanna find my train someday,
And seasons go past the station.'
"Hey, girl, are you all right?" Anjel touched her shoulder. Zelda jumped, rubbing her eyes furiously, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Geez," Nila said, "you're been so down lately. Stressed, I bet." Zelda smiled weakly and nodded.
"You should get a boyfriend," Nila said, inspecting her neon-green nail-job. Zelda sighed, a rueful 'I have one' silenced on her tongue.
End of chapter 9Sorry, no evil cliffhangers today. (I'm sure you're all just so disappointed.) I hope it wasn't too boring for you and of satisfactory length to make up for the nasty cliffhanger. (Was truly evil of me.) Plus the story's not over yet! No! I give two or three chapters for me to wrap it up. The song in Zelda's little bit at the end of the chapter is 'Strawberry Kiss Kiss' from the Tokyo Babylon OAV. Not the greatest song in the world for that section but a couple verses had something akin to the symbolism I was trying to get across.
R&R!
ZelNEXT UP –
Chapter 10: Calm before a Storm (for lack of a better title…)
P.S. Does anybody like Soara? Or is she annoying?
P.S.S. Sorry, I just couldn't kill Aife.
