Chapter 27

The battle raged in front of her eyes, the wheeled war machines of the Zora creaking as they rolled closer to New Hyrule, rocks and vegetation wilting, then bursting into powder under their weight. Catapults sprang noisily into action, flinging boulders against the city's defensive walls, while the Calatians fought back, their arrows, coming in waves, looking tiny and fragile. Zora foot soldiers, their lithe, grey bodies wrapped in dull armour, swarmed at the base of the walls, their shields deflecting the barrage of arrows, their swords slicing through skin and splintering bone . Thick black smoke blotted out the sun, the air thick with the groans of the wounded and the screams of the dying. A cold chill, seductive in its sweetness, washed over the Princess. She had to admit that she enjoyed the spectacle.

Situated safely at the rear of the Zora army, she stood upon one of the war machines, its wood warped and cracked, and waited for the wall to collapse. Seaweed curled around the wheels and the hinges, the only sign that these monstrous vehicles and been once submerged at the bottom of the ocean. Flanking her were the Twins, her silent honour guards. Various Zora would come and ask after her health or bring her pouches of water. She accepted them gingerly, though it disgusted her to drink from something those foul creatures had touched. On the other hand, she was finally receiving the service she was due. An army at her fingertips, minions acting on her every whim - this was more like it.

For so many summers she had kept an icy control over her emotions, not showing anyone a hint of the feelings that stirred within. But now she couldn't help but let go, the elation that she felt in her heart, fuelled by bloodlust and the scent of victory, almost spilling over. "Magnificent."

"I'm glad you think so." It was the Zora Duchess, Ruto who, along with Sahasrahla, were the only other people allowed to stay back. "But I don't think we Zora can take all the credit."

"Nonsense," the Princess replied, her voice soft as though in awe. She'd once felt cowed by the sea-creature, but now, standing here with her back rigid with pride, she considered Ruto her equal. No, she corrected herself quickly. Her inferior. "This has been a resounding success. All that remains is for us is storm the castle and for me to ascend the throne." Her voice caught at the end as the tremble of anticipation let loose by her heart reached her throat.

"Look at the damage on the inner wall," Ruto continued. "It seems the city has suffered some recent damage." She paused, lost in her thoughts. "There was another battle here, not so long ago."

"Another..?" the Princess asked. "But who would..?"

"Boarhound." This time it was Sahasrahla who had spoken. The Princess turned to him, noticed the worried mask that he wore, and motioned at him to continue. "Look closely, Your Majesty. Those soldiers...they are not Calatian. They are Hylian. I can only assume that the Hylian Chief staged some sort of revolt."

The Princess peered through the smoke and flame, trying to catch a glimpse of the city's defenders. Her heart thudded in her chest, tight from a nervous twinge as she hoped that the wise old man was wrong. She saw one of the soldiers then, the curve to his ears filling her with cold dismay. "How did this happen?"

Before anyone could answer, the Princess had to steady herself as her vehicle shook, the release of a catapult nearby sending out concentric waves of energy . Her eyes followed the path of the boulder as it streaked into the sky, pierced through a haze of smoke and fire, spun as a sudden flock of arrows desperately tried to stop it, then ploughed into the wall, shattering bodies and pounding masonry to dust.

Her people. It was her people who were being slaughtered. A mixture of hate and disgust, tempered with sorrow and regret, churned in her soul. How dare anyone hurt her people? They were hers, her responsibility. And yet she had to wonder at why exactly they were fighting for the Calatians - had they betrayed the legacy of their race so easily? And more - it was the Princess herself that was leading this attack upon them. Their blood now stained her hands.

"Perhaps," Sahasrahla added, his voice thick. "If we could call a truce, we might be able to negotiate. Once they see we have the Princess, that is."

"No," the Harkinian sovereign replied. "All they can see are Zora. They would not believe us."

The old man frowned. "But, Your Majesty," he said, a cautious tint to his voice. "People are dying. We could end this."

The Princess set her face rigid, ice running in her veins as her determination solidified. "Let them die." She almost laughed as Sahasrahla recoiled in shock. From the corner of her eye she saw the Zora watch them both with detached calm. "Either they chose Servion or they chose the King. Either way, they have acted treacherously."

Anger glistened in the old man's eyes. "They don't even know you exist! This is unjust!"

Whirling around, she snarled at him. "Injustice? Don't speak to me of injustice. I am the Princess of Destiny. I am the best judge of who is to live or to die."

Sahasrahla's jaw trembled. "I've never seen you like this. After all these summers..."

The Princess couldn't resist. Standing on the precipice of her victory, why should she still have to feign friendship with those she despised? "That's because you're a fool. A worthless, Calatian fool." She grinned, her head giddy as she finally unleashed the hate that festered within. "I used you. Yes, I did...so don't look at me like that. I knew you would have information about...about the boy. In the end, you proved to be quite useless."

The vehicle rocked again as more catapults released their burdens. Sahasrahla, his cheek twitching, continued to glare at the Princess.

"Lower your gaze," she warned. "I'll have your eyes for such an insult."

The light of understanding dawned on Sahasrahla's face. "All this time," the old man said, grief almost making him choke. "All this time, and I was wrong. You're not her, are you? You're not Zelda."

The Princess was tiring of the conversation. "I don't know what you mean," she snapped. "I am the one mentioned in the scrolls. Zelda?" She frowned as she thought back. "That was the name of my decoy. She's not important...in fact," and here her voice became heavy with sadness. "In fact...I think she's dead." Her heart tightened again - she could tolerate the presence of Calatians, Zora and rebel Hylians, but anyone hurting her family was just unbearable. Her hatred grew, flooding through her like poison. She turned to Ruto. "I want you to let all the troops know - once the wall falls, I want them to kill any Calatian they find. Every man. Every woman. Every child."

The Duchess bowed. "If that is necessary for the cleansing," she said. "Then we shall do it."

"You're insane." It was Sahasrahla again. The Princess rolled her eyes, hissing inwardly. Why wouldn't the doddering old fool keep quiet? He was slowly shuffling away from them now, his whole body trembling as he gazed from one to the other. "You're both insane." This time he stared at the Zora. "You said you wouldn't kill us all. You said that you were fighting to re-establish order."

"Little man," Ruto replied, her voice cold and imperious. "Do not judge the Zora."

Sahasrahla grit his teeth. "I have to stop you."

Shaking her head at the man's folly, the Princess turned to the Zora. "Duchess."

Ruto gave the smallest of nods, and then she whirled on her heel. A flash of silver followed, like a shooting star streaking across the darkest of nights, her arm arcing gracefully, and Sahasrahla gagged, shock in his eyes, stumbling as a thin line of scarlet slowly soaked into his tunic.

The Princess, her eyes hollow, watched the old man convulse as he died, choking and jerking all the while. She glanced at the Twins, wondering at their reaction, but their faces were stoic, calm. Her lip curled. Of course they were. No one would dare rise against her now. Still...they were Calatian, too. She knew that her time to be truly free had not come yet; she knew that she still had to make a show of it.

The Princess turned to the Zora. "I fear more such as this will follow." She put just the right amount of sorrow and regret into her voice. "How will I keep the people in place? Won't they revolt against my authority?"

"Do not worry," Ruto replied, wiping her dagger with a cloth. "If the people of this land are so dense that they cannot accept justice or order, or the presence of a strong ruler, then..." She cocked her head to one side, eyes as black as midnight glimmering, catching the glow of the dancing flames. "Then we will just have to force it upon them."

The Princess smiled, her head almost spinning from the exhilarating sense of power that was coursing through her at that moment. There was something oddly familiar about it, too. Perhaps it was just a faint recollection of times long past - it was clear that once this battle, paid for with Zora blood, reached its end, the Harkinians would once more rule the world. She could barely contain her glee.

"I believe, Duchess," the Princess said. "That we could become the best of friends."

...

Servion pulled tightly on the chain wrapped around his victim's throat. He walked around the misshapen creature - what was it called again? The Lost? - barely able to hide his revulsion. "I will let you go," he said. "If you tell me where the Hylian boy was heading. Do we have a bargain?"

The creature, a male Servion decided, though it was hard to tell through all the deformities, clutched at the chain, his face red and his tear-stained eyes bulging. "What...what..." he choked, "what guarantee...do I have?"

Boarhound shrugged. "I am the Hylian Chief. My word is sacrosanct."

"Please..." The man, his knees scraping against the gravel, continued to struggle against his bonds. "I just want to be with my family."

"And you will be," Servion hissed. "If you only tell me where the boy went."

It had taken them long enough to find out where Link had gone after he'd fled the bandit camp. They'd run into many dead-ends, false leads that had driven them astray from his trail. Disconcertingly for Servion, the Holy himself had remained silent, and this after promising to lead him directly to Link. It had only been a few nights ago that the Holy had reappeared, ordering Servion to send his remaining soldiers to the City of Lon Lon. The Holy had seemed distracted, so the Chief hadn't dared to ask him about the boy.

And so he and Kisho had had to make their own little enquiries. Finding themselves in the Valley of Perpetual Night, they came across persistent rumours of a Hylian 'Hero'. Kisho had rejected it instantly, not believing that Link could be capable of fitting that particular description. Servion, on the other hand, knew it had to be Link, and soon they found themselves nearing the Village of the Lost - this pathetic, accursed tribe of Calatians - and had managed to ambush one for questioning.

"I ask again," the Chief said, realising that no answer was forthcoming. "Where did the boy go?"

The man heaved, as though he were about to weep, then glared up at the Chief. "I don't know, you hear me?" he spat. "We don't know where he was intending to go...all I know is that he started his journey going due south."

Servion smiled. "See?" he said, uncoiling the chain. "That wasn't so difficult, was it?"

The man's face took on an expression of complete surprise, though the doubt in his voice was clear. "I'm...I'm free to go?"

"Yes," Servion said, stepping back. He gestured with his hand. "You are free."

A smile spread on the creature's face as he scrambled towards Servion, clutching at the Chief's tunic in gratitude. "Oh, thank you, sir," he cried, tears now flowing freely. "Thank you so much. My daughter, mister, she's still so small, and she was sick, and and and I thought I'd never see her again." He began sobbing, his eyes closed tightly as he rubbed his face against Servion's clothes. "I thought I'd never see her again."

The Hylian Chief had to clench his fists in order to stop himself from retching in disgust. It made his skin crawl to see this pathetic mess cling to him so tightly. "No," he said, needing all his self-control to keep his voice calm. "It is I who should apologise to you." Grabbing the man's collar, Servion pulled him to his feet. "Now go."

Relief evident on the creature's twisted face, he bowed in gratitude once more, then turned and ran back towards the village. Servion waited, watching. Then, with a satisfied grin rapidly growing on his face, he flipped a dagger from his belt, pulled back his arm, and threw. His aim was true, and the sharp-edged blade tore through the creature's neck with a short burst of blood.

Servion chuckled. "Disgusting filth," he muttered. He looked up to see Kisho, arms folded across his chest, glaring at him. "You don't approve, assassin?"

"You promised him," Kisho replied, a thin layer of quiet menace coating his words. "What you did was dishonourable."

The Chief snorted in scorn. "Assassin's gained a conscience now, has he?" He laughed. "Besides, you didn't really want to let him run back to his other moblins and raise the alarm, did you?" When Kisho did not reply, Servion went on, "Those animals don't deserve to share the same space as us anyway. They are...inferior."

The assassin continued to stare. "Inferior to who, exactly?" he spat. "To Calatians? To Hylians?" His eyes thinned. "To you?"

Servion turned away. There was little point in him indulging in this conversation. He knew that Calatians had been cursed with small minds, and were unable to grasp the lofty ideals that he himself held dear. There were only two ways to bring such rabble under heel - by the sword and by the whip. Soon, as the instrument of the Holy's design, he would bring peace and order to the world, and narrow minded sinners like Kisho would be forced to acknowledge exactly how beneficent Servion really was. All he needed was a little patience.

"I also don't understand," the assassin called from behind him, "exactly why you sent your remaining men off on some errand that you won't even tell me about. I do not think that was very prudent."

The man's voice beginning to grate on him, Servion spun around. "What's the matter, assassin? Are you afraid?" His lip curled in scorn. "Afraid your little Link boy will defeat you like he defeated your two teammates?" A bizarre sense of pride rose within him. "How about that? A young Hylian managed to best two seasoned Calatian assassins."

Kisho didn't rise to the taunt, though Servion could see the rage burn in his eyes. "So," the assassin said. "Where is Link?"

The Chief, about to open his mouth for a reply, paused as the familiar luminous cloud, signifying the arrival of the Holy, formed in his mind's eye. Servion could almost taste the relief that welled up from inside.

"The Demon approaches Kakariko Town. He has Zelda with him...your men failed."

Servion tried to hide the fear he felt at the implication in the Holy's words, choosing instead to put his most smug expression on display. "Link's at Kakariko," he said, addressing the assassin. "We can cut him off there."

Kisho frowned. "How do you know?"

"He must not be allowed to reach Death Mountain Crater. You must use the Triforce of Power on the girl before then."

"Don't concern yourself with such details, assassin," the Chief replied. "Only know that it's true. We have to stop him from going any further. Death Mountain Crater is his destination - he'll be dead before he steps foot on it."

Cocking his head to one side, the assassin's face continued to crease, his curiosity not satiated. "Why do we have to stop him? And why is he going there?" He took a step forward. "I don't like your games, Servion. Tell me what's really happening."

"Ignore the fool. My power grows, and yet I am still imprisoned. I have finally broken through the barrier that was keeping me from the Princess."

Now it was the Chief's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

Kisho, unable to see anything but Servion, snarled. "More games! You know exactly what I mean." Something shone in his eyes - as though some sort of revelation had just descended upon him. "You know everything, don't you? You know why the King was desperate to make Link flee the city." His fists curled. "Tell me everything, Servion, or I swear I'll gut you right here."

"Then you'll never find Link," the Chief retorted. His mind whirled - it was difficult for him to keep track of two conversations. What barrier was the Holy referring to? "All you need to know is that the boy is evil - and that it rests upon us to stop him."

"Explain."

"I will." He was feeling the buzz of irritation now. Where had the Holy gone? "On the way to Kakariko. We don't have much time."

"Soon I can bring the Triforce of Wisdom back. Soon...I will be free...and the Triforce will be complete. Soon, the Demon will lay dead at my feet."

Servion blinked, feeling the presence of the Holy dissipate. He saw the assassin still piercing him with a stare. "We need to work together for now. You seek Link for revenge, but I seek him for a higher purpose."

Kisho, his cheek twitching as he regarded the Chief, gave a short nod. "Just remember what we agreed. We don't harm him yet. And," a dark look overtook his face, "I want to reach him first. Then, you can do whatever you wish with him."

...

Fran watched the walls of the city erupt into dust; stared with mouth agape as the Zora poured in, leaving behind them a trail of blood and corpses. The Hylians began to drop back, their shoulders sagging with defeat, despair their only refuge.

A horn rang out, a piercing shriek that could freeze hearts. Fran found himself rooted to the spot as the world stopped for an ever-so-fleeting moment. Something was in the air, an almost palatable sense of ancient promises renewed, and old stakes reclaimed.

Arrows continued to fly over their heads and the hunter had to keep his head down, leading Mystral by the hand, as they ran. Where they were going Fran didn't exactly know. All that mattered to him was to be free from this madness. Free once and for all.

A sudden shifted in the air, coupled with a descending whistle, alerted Fran to danger. He flung himself to the side, his arm reaching out, acting as a barrier for the girl. "Lass!" he snapped. "Down!"

The boulder smashed into the cobbled street before them, spraying splinters of rock spinning into their faces. Fran covered his eyes with one hand, and with the other he pulled Mystral close, protecting her from the debris.

The girl looked up as the dust settled, panic stretching her eyes. "Fran..." she gasped. "I never knew...never knew it would be this bad."

As she spoke a chorus of screams punctured the air, making her wince. Fran felt his mouth tug in sadness. Had he had the power to do so, he would have found a way to protect all the innocent ones from the darkness in the souls of others. "Don't worry, lass," he said, trying to make himself sound soothing. "I'll not be letting them harm you."

With a sudden yank, Mystral pulled him close to her. For a flash, Fran felt an awkward sense of embarrassment - what was she up to? She was half his age and...

...then he felt the heat of the arrow tear passed his head, its momentum lifting his hair as though it had blown on it.

"Maybe," Mystral said, an amused glint in her eye. "It's me that has to look after you. After all, your supposed 'Hero' couldn't make it through the day without me pulling him by the ear."

And despite all the insanity swirling around them, Fran laughed, his body relaxing just a tad. "Aye, lass, I'm too old for this."

The mirth vanished from her face. "And Link is too young."

He had no words to offer her, just a sad smile and a squeeze of her hand.

"I wonder where the King and Impa are," Mystral added.

"I don't know." The two of them had left, saying that they had 'work to do.' "Let's hope they know what they're doing."

"And what about us?"

It was then that Fran saw the Zora army surge, at the head of which a familiar figure stood. His heart filled with joy. "It's Zelda," he breathed. It struck him at how much alike she now looked to his Queen - when he'd first met her, he couldn't see the resemblance. Now he realised that it was because the Princess was much younger than the Queen he'd known. "We have to get to her."

Mystral motioned with her head. "They're headed for the castle, I think."

A quick glance confirmed it for Fran. "You're right. Let's go...she knows me. She won't hurt me."

A glaze of doubt coated Mystral's eyes, but she nodded and followed anyway. They hopped over rubble and darted around burning remains, always making sure to keep out of sight of both the Hylians and the Zora. It was a little easier now as both armies were more concerned with each other than with the two of them.

Link and Zelda. That's all that Fran had left. That's the reason he believed that he'd been sent here - deprived of his friends and his family in the process. Zelda would know what to do. She would restore peace to this broken land. Fran found himself smiling again, hope blanking out the reality around him. It spurred him on, though, and he tugged Mystral harder.

This would all be over soon, he knew. Zelda would rule like she had before, and Link would be back with them. Fran could finally rest. He even felt his body tingle, as though he had just realised exactly how tired he was of his life.

The streets now deserted, they ran across the remains of the streets, pausing to lay their backs flat against a building, their eyes searching for enemies. No-one came to them. There was silence, except for the distant thud of the Zoras boots as they marched onward.

When they reached Castle Dragmire they found a heap of dead Hylians piled outside the now shattered entrance. Small fires burned, glowing ash giving off trails of smoke. Fran and Mystral, stepping over the dead, stepped inside.

It was dark and silent. Ornamented pillars stood in the main hallway, streaked with blood, the paintings on the walls slashed. Something splashed under their feet. Fran didn't have to look down to know that he'd see scarlet liquid staring back at him. Thankfully, Mystral hadn't noticed. He knew that the knowledge would sicken her, or worse, plague her dreams for the rest of her life.

A glimmer of movement caught Fran's attention. His eyes squinting, he peered past the pillars to see who was there. The three figures revealed themselves, curiously alone - had the Zoras abandoned them? And where was Sahasrahla? - and Fran was gladdened to see the Princess and the Twins.

"Master Marcaster..." Kya began.

"...welcome," Eagle finished.

He nodded in response, then turned his attention to Zelda. "Princess," he said, his voice echoing through the cavernous chamber. "It's good to see you again."

"I was waiting for you, Fran," she replied. There was an odd tone to her voice, a hollowness that the hunter found disturbing. She vanished behind a pillar, then emerged again, walking slowly. "I knew you'd try to stop me."

The hunter blinked - how had she known he was here in the city, let alone following her to the castle? He felt something cold drop onto his heart.

She stopped, her face impassive. "As you can see, I have made new allies."

Fran recalled his last encounter with the Zora. "I'm glad they treated you better than they did me."

Her eyes flashed. "You were not needed anymore."

He had to stop himself from flinching, so much had her blunt words hurt. "I see. Well, I should -"

"Do not interfere, Fran." A shadow crossed her face. The hunter felt his heart begin to thud faster. "Let me complete my destiny."

"Which is...?"

"Revenge." Blood poured into her eyes as Fran recoiled in horror. The door slammed shut behind them with a booming sigh. A gust of ice filled the air, the temperature dropping fast. Outside, through the windows, Fran could see the sky darken, a billowing cloud raging against the heavens.

Gripping Mystral's hand tightly, Fran swallowed, desperately trying to bring some moisture back into his mouth. "Who are you?"

"You don't know me, Marcaster." The Princess sneered, her voice now clearly male. "But I know you. You were in this one's memories. Strange...how you still live after all this time."

"What have you done with Zelda?"

The Princess laughed, a menacing sound that made Fran want to scream and weep at the same time. "Zelda. I have her, too...though not as much as I have this one. It was strange, you see. Trapped as I was, I managed to tap into the Triforce of Wisdom. It lay buried deep in this one's body...all I had to do was breathe deeply into it, and it awoke, a puppet in my hands. But she was too strong...as usual, she fought back. Her old sensibilities, pathetic and weak as they were, came back. And yet...and yet...I had touched her somehow, changed her. It was delicious to see her become a cold-hearted witch."

Fran shook his head unconsciously. He had no idea what the monster was talking about. He searched the Twins' eyes desperately, but they showed no sign that they were concerned in the least. What was going on here? Glancing at Mystral, herself stunned into silence, he saw his own confusion swimming her eyes.

"I presented her to the Harkinians. They took it as a sign - a miracle. Weak-minded fools! But then, somehow, she drove me out...forced me back into my prison. She was strong like that. But my poison grew within her - and she no longer remembered who or what she was as she rotted from within. And, because of that, it was pure simplicity to take back my puppet once more."

"I don't understand," the hunter said. "But whatever you are, your life ends here." Fran flinched once more as lightening flashed from outside.

"Of course it is. I'm too powerful for you now. For all of you. But you say you don't understand...perhaps I can show you the oh-so-sweet truth."

Fran watched, fear clutching at his heart, as the Princess slowly raised a hand. Then, as though she were dropping skin, something melted away from her; her face growing older, the youth seeping away from it. As the lines returned to her face, her hand shimmered, then dissipated, her skin and bones collapsing into smoke.

Recognition struck Fran like an arrow. Horror made his heart lurch painfully. It was Zelda. His Zelda. "My Queen..."

"Dead, I'm afraid, Marcaster," the Princess-creature said. "I blotted out her personality once and for all. All that remains is me...but don't you find it amusing? Don't you find it oh-so-enlightening? The instrument of my vengeance is the very Queen whom you loved so dearly." A shrieking laughter followed, rolling around the chamber, as thunder bellowed from outside.

Fran reeled, the shock stinging his mind. His heart, so very recently bubbling with hope, now felt it would shatter with grief. It couldn't be! What had this monster done to her?

"That's interesting." Mystral and the hunter turned to the sound of the new voice. Fran heard the girl sigh in relief as Montero and Impa emerged from the shadows. "Don't you find it interesting, Impa?"

"Fascinating," the Hylian woman replied.

The duo, their expressions stony, continued to stare. The King spoke again. "Impa - if you'd be so kind."

A sigh of metal rang out as a sword was drawn. "It would be my pleasure."

Fran, his eyes darting from the King to the Princess, came to a decision - the only one that his heart would allow. Reaching back, he pulled his bow free. "Your Majesty," he said, nodding at Montero. "I believe we have a city to liberate."