Despite the placement in Zelda, the only Zelda thing about it is the way I move the plot. More sadistic than Zelda as well. Purely OC, so no complaints or questions about Link or any of them. And since I HAD to mention it, I now say I own no part of Zelda, unlike Nintendo.
Frozen Lips
Out of the mist, he finally caught sight of a spectular palace of ice. Every tower seemed to let off fog in all directions. Just as his mind wandered to the castle, the woman of frost herself noticed and growled.
"Stop staring and come with me!" She said in an impatient manner, smirking slightly in pride for her castle. Her beckon needed no more, for he was already by her side, eyes cast downwards towards bleeding feet and drops of blood from his many present wounds.
She turned and led him onwards, into the front hall of her great castle. Every wall was lined with portraits of her through the many ages. They all were her, but in garbs of the passing centuries. She hardly took notice, and even averted her eyes. It was evident she died a little between every picture. Now she seemed a beautiful monster in comparison to the beauty of ice in the earlier paintings.
He had not seen more than glimpses, his head still hung low as to keep himself from moving against her will again.
Stepping from the main hall into a vast dining room. Many tables lined the walls, but a beautiful long one was covered in food, parallel to them. Frozen fruits and desserts all over. Nothing warm about the food, but there was enough to sustain any man for a great deal of time. At the smell of these things, he lifted his head, but did no more.
She smiled in satisfaction, proud again of herself for such useful servants. Turning her head to him, leaning close to his ear, "Eat what you like, but the more you eat, is the more I take from you times three." grinning a little before shoving him a step closer to the food.
He took no more in than what he was permitted to eat. Without hesitation, he jumped up onto the table, hunched like an animal, and gorging himself with his bare hands. Forcing one bite past the other as he ingested all sorts of cold foods, some shrimps and all kinds of fruits to satisfy him.
Within an hour, he fell to the floor, onto his back. Eyes blank again, lost the slight spark of hunger he had only just given up. Frosty eyes lorded over him, her feet just above the top of his head. A hand on her hip, and another running through navy locks, she laughed, "And for all that, I will clean you up and enjoy my reward.."
The feeling would not go away. Hallia looked unnerved but spoke even less than the usual mutter or remark. Darigan didn't mind the quiet, further working alone, leaned up against the far side of the nearest large tree. Coat folded beside him, bulging muscles glistened slightly under the hot sun. He had worn a sleeveless white shirt beneath the heavy brown cloak.
Ayane as bare as any day, lurking among the branches above, her jade eyes having faded from their former turquoise hue. She was stalking a sweet-sounding bluejay among the trees. Well fed already, she was playing with it. The bounty these days for her food was kind to her.
None of them could shake the feeling. The feeling that something wanted them dead and could bring that death if it could only find them. It felt so near, it was as if breath was beating down the backs of their necks. Torture perhaps, but they went along as if it were nothing.
"Hey Hallia.. This third key, you think it's going to be a person like me, or uh.. like Ayane... or what?" Darigan said as he slipped a newly crafted object into one of the many inner pockets of his jacket.
With a shrug and a nonchalant gaze to the side, she leaned against the opposite side of the tree with arms crossed, "Can't be sure, but anything that fits the profile is coming with us." Looking unsure a moment before shaking her head, "That is, if it wants to."
He laughed quietly, nodding a bit before lifting the jacket and standing upright. With a shrug, he stepped away from the tree, "We better head out then, never know when we might get attacked or if we miss this 'blade' for waiting."
And without another breath to be drawn, Ayane dropped from the trees in front of him, a feather dropping from her lips before a quiet burp, "Hee hee... Yeah, let's go!" pumping a fist into the air before turning and bounding away on all fours, Hallia silent as she followed along.
Hallia's dark clothes shifted, changing as she walked so she wore loose-fitting pants and a short-sleeved shirt, both black as night, heavy boots only heavier now and long hair shortening down to only reach her shoulders.
"I'm sorry I couldn't help more, Master Hiten, but I don't know much about that cloaked man," Xen lied calmly, not wanting to send any men after Vicious, even if Vicious was out of reach.
The young man bowed at the waist, his left hand grasping the sword that hung near it. His lax blue eyes betrayed no more than calm acceptance, "I thank you anyway. Sleep well, Sir xen."
Xen bowed his head in return before gesturing to the stairwell, "Goodnight. I'll be up in the morning, if you'd like breakfast with your stay," xen said in a concerned manner, voice dropping to a lower tone with his offer. Turning his back to the samurai and walking towards his own quarters, he let a frown invade his features.
Xen had believed revenge to be important. To honor your loved ones and to keep peace of mind. But he believed in his loyalty to FDW. Old friends are more important than revenge. As he nodded to himself, still unsure, he blew his candle out and settled into bed, closing his eyes as the night's sounds began.
Seikensu did not sleep right away. First, he took a deep breath, shrugging his robes off and leaving him in a thin and loose white shirt. The folds were perfectly clean, pure as his thoughts. Secondly, He undid the tie that held his sword to his waist. Slowly bending his knees, his right hand holding the sheath to the floor. He knelt down on both knees with oceanic eyes concealed tightly underneath their lids.
His left hand moved in one swift motion to his belt and the sash around his waist was loose and undone. The hand then took hold with the other onto his sword. With a quiet breath, he stood again, bereft of all clothing but a small cotton undergarment. Stepping out of his clothes, he had turned and began folding them, depositing them next to his bed as the sword lay rest agaisnt the side of the bed.
Kneeling down beside his bed, he held the sword pointed downwards in a strong grip to his right. Left hand put over the bed, grasping the sheets tightly. He quietly whispered, "May the gods forgive me for my sins, and redeem me when the time comes. I will come to you, my love, when my task is done. Your life will not be in vain."
As he sighed, he stood and stepped from the wooden sandals he wore. Putting them next to the bed, he lied down over the blankets, head nestled onto the soft quilt pillow. Within moments, he slept a sleep of death, without dreams or worry.
The dark man was silent no more. His brazen brown eyes wide open in wracking pain. Atop the tallest tower, tied tightly to a pair of posts. Lines of blood running over his body as the chains around his abdomen tighten roughly, cracking more of his fragile ribs. A loud shout of pain breaks out with the crack of a whip.
Silver locks blow in the breeze, her icy hues glowing with malice as she lashes again at his bare back. Deep blue leathers adorning every curve of her body, free hand turning the wheel beside her to tighten the chains. Feet anchored by spikes into the roof below him, his arms nailed to wooden posts to each side, all strapped with splintering old rope.
A low growl is heard from him, but another cry breaks out from him as a new lash appears behind his left shoulder. A quiet whimper of pain, teeth clenched and almost cracking in pain. The man was consumed in fear of her now, and pain as bad as it had gotten so far. The food not even settled in his belly before the torture had begun.
As winds blew by, the sheer ferocity enough to slice further at his flesh. Blood covers the rooftop around him, leaking over every side as he pales again, leaking his essence away. Clenching his fists for a moment, then realizing that only makes the wounds in his forearms greater.
She cackles loudly in pleasure, enjoying his pain very much, all the sweeter after his recent neurishment. She stepped close behind him now, whip on the ground, but the handle still in her white-knuckled grip. Her cold breath chills over the back of his neck, but he calms, grows quiet as the pain lessens, the wheel released.
She mutters softly, a beautiful but frightening voice echoing from her tender lips, "I'm sure you're having fun, darling, but why don't you tell me just how much it hurts.." kissing his shoulder lightly, grinning evilly, "Pwease? I'm vewwy curious.."
Heavy breathing as the air stills around them, his eyes down, still wide open and fearful. A sound like a wounded animal slow to start, but soon a half-groan leaves him. He turns his head, trying to get away from her. Teardrops long since run out, blood now trails down below his eyes, dropping to the subtle earth and he speaks in a cracked whisper, "It... hurts..."
The chilling laugh, his heart now finally showing it's reluctant fear of her. A loud cry as his arm forces the spike a little out of the post beside him, more blood gushing out at a slowing rate, "Stop.."
His struggle futile, and a little pathetic, she merely taps the spike and it's jammed fully back into the post. Other hand cranking the wheel and further cracking his shattered ribcage, puncturing his heart a thousand times.
"You're here, you deserve this, child..." came her wispy voice, carrying like the wind to his ears, "They sent you to us and I decided you get special treatment. No less than you deserve."
Going on like this, atop the mighty ice palace, his cries heard for miles in the cold air. Fists clutched tightly, he endures every moment without choice, without an option to die or sleep or run away from it. Her laugh all he hears, not bothered with another word as the pain stretches on for what seems forever.
The next town they met with was empty, dead as the night was. Ayane and Hallia's powerful senses proved that this large city was but a aghost town, like any other that seemed to hide themselves in forests.
Upon further inspection, though, things seemed different. Ayane sat and rested by an old and rusted shop, the windows as clean as new. Hallia wandered rooftops, silent and contemplating. But Darigan ventured indoors when he found a smithy.
"How can they do anything inside? A fire could start..." his heavy footsteps patting against a hard granite floor. Looking to the pots of red coals, somehting odd about them. Slowly, he crept forward, looking at the ashes below a few pots.
His eyes widen slightly before turning around and running outside. A heavy breath beats from him with every step before he comes back to where Ayane lay curled at a doorstep.
"Hey Ayane, get Hallia quickly, it's important!" grinning a little, but eyes alert and watchful, not really looking at her as she sat up and rubbed an eye with her paw.
In a moment, Ayane was back at the doorstep, trying to lay comfortably again. Fur a little ruffled now, but she would clean it in the morning.
Hallia looked pissed. Glaring up at Darigan, she says in a quiet tone, "What's so important, Big D?" tapping her foot a little, one hand behind her head, the other on her hip, looking fidgety and restless.
He laughed hesitantly before gesturing around, "I just noticed, this place all looks new!" eyes still trying to peer into every dark corner and crevice.
"Your point?" She said with a sarcastic tone, not looking pleased and trying to maintain eye contact, "I don't like being dragged around for idle chat."
He shrugged, not caring and not listening, "My point is that it looks like this place was deserted no earlier than today. The coals are hot and the food is on the tables and fresh."
Even longer than the last! Yay me? I think I have a bit of a thing for hurting myself, but whatever. I'm kinda hoping to get past the soon parts and hurry to my later ideas, but I hear rushing it can just kill a plot. New ideas for anything real soon will be VERY welcome. (Word to yo motha.)
Frozen Lips
Out of the mist, he finally caught sight of a spectular palace of ice. Every tower seemed to let off fog in all directions. Just as his mind wandered to the castle, the woman of frost herself noticed and growled.
"Stop staring and come with me!" She said in an impatient manner, smirking slightly in pride for her castle. Her beckon needed no more, for he was already by her side, eyes cast downwards towards bleeding feet and drops of blood from his many present wounds.
She turned and led him onwards, into the front hall of her great castle. Every wall was lined with portraits of her through the many ages. They all were her, but in garbs of the passing centuries. She hardly took notice, and even averted her eyes. It was evident she died a little between every picture. Now she seemed a beautiful monster in comparison to the beauty of ice in the earlier paintings.
He had not seen more than glimpses, his head still hung low as to keep himself from moving against her will again.
Stepping from the main hall into a vast dining room. Many tables lined the walls, but a beautiful long one was covered in food, parallel to them. Frozen fruits and desserts all over. Nothing warm about the food, but there was enough to sustain any man for a great deal of time. At the smell of these things, he lifted his head, but did no more.
She smiled in satisfaction, proud again of herself for such useful servants. Turning her head to him, leaning close to his ear, "Eat what you like, but the more you eat, is the more I take from you times three." grinning a little before shoving him a step closer to the food.
He took no more in than what he was permitted to eat. Without hesitation, he jumped up onto the table, hunched like an animal, and gorging himself with his bare hands. Forcing one bite past the other as he ingested all sorts of cold foods, some shrimps and all kinds of fruits to satisfy him.
Within an hour, he fell to the floor, onto his back. Eyes blank again, lost the slight spark of hunger he had only just given up. Frosty eyes lorded over him, her feet just above the top of his head. A hand on her hip, and another running through navy locks, she laughed, "And for all that, I will clean you up and enjoy my reward.."
The feeling would not go away. Hallia looked unnerved but spoke even less than the usual mutter or remark. Darigan didn't mind the quiet, further working alone, leaned up against the far side of the nearest large tree. Coat folded beside him, bulging muscles glistened slightly under the hot sun. He had worn a sleeveless white shirt beneath the heavy brown cloak.
Ayane as bare as any day, lurking among the branches above, her jade eyes having faded from their former turquoise hue. She was stalking a sweet-sounding bluejay among the trees. Well fed already, she was playing with it. The bounty these days for her food was kind to her.
None of them could shake the feeling. The feeling that something wanted them dead and could bring that death if it could only find them. It felt so near, it was as if breath was beating down the backs of their necks. Torture perhaps, but they went along as if it were nothing.
"Hey Hallia.. This third key, you think it's going to be a person like me, or uh.. like Ayane... or what?" Darigan said as he slipped a newly crafted object into one of the many inner pockets of his jacket.
With a shrug and a nonchalant gaze to the side, she leaned against the opposite side of the tree with arms crossed, "Can't be sure, but anything that fits the profile is coming with us." Looking unsure a moment before shaking her head, "That is, if it wants to."
He laughed quietly, nodding a bit before lifting the jacket and standing upright. With a shrug, he stepped away from the tree, "We better head out then, never know when we might get attacked or if we miss this 'blade' for waiting."
And without another breath to be drawn, Ayane dropped from the trees in front of him, a feather dropping from her lips before a quiet burp, "Hee hee... Yeah, let's go!" pumping a fist into the air before turning and bounding away on all fours, Hallia silent as she followed along.
Hallia's dark clothes shifted, changing as she walked so she wore loose-fitting pants and a short-sleeved shirt, both black as night, heavy boots only heavier now and long hair shortening down to only reach her shoulders.
"I'm sorry I couldn't help more, Master Hiten, but I don't know much about that cloaked man," Xen lied calmly, not wanting to send any men after Vicious, even if Vicious was out of reach.
The young man bowed at the waist, his left hand grasping the sword that hung near it. His lax blue eyes betrayed no more than calm acceptance, "I thank you anyway. Sleep well, Sir xen."
Xen bowed his head in return before gesturing to the stairwell, "Goodnight. I'll be up in the morning, if you'd like breakfast with your stay," xen said in a concerned manner, voice dropping to a lower tone with his offer. Turning his back to the samurai and walking towards his own quarters, he let a frown invade his features.
Xen had believed revenge to be important. To honor your loved ones and to keep peace of mind. But he believed in his loyalty to FDW. Old friends are more important than revenge. As he nodded to himself, still unsure, he blew his candle out and settled into bed, closing his eyes as the night's sounds began.
Seikensu did not sleep right away. First, he took a deep breath, shrugging his robes off and leaving him in a thin and loose white shirt. The folds were perfectly clean, pure as his thoughts. Secondly, He undid the tie that held his sword to his waist. Slowly bending his knees, his right hand holding the sheath to the floor. He knelt down on both knees with oceanic eyes concealed tightly underneath their lids.
His left hand moved in one swift motion to his belt and the sash around his waist was loose and undone. The hand then took hold with the other onto his sword. With a quiet breath, he stood again, bereft of all clothing but a small cotton undergarment. Stepping out of his clothes, he had turned and began folding them, depositing them next to his bed as the sword lay rest agaisnt the side of the bed.
Kneeling down beside his bed, he held the sword pointed downwards in a strong grip to his right. Left hand put over the bed, grasping the sheets tightly. He quietly whispered, "May the gods forgive me for my sins, and redeem me when the time comes. I will come to you, my love, when my task is done. Your life will not be in vain."
As he sighed, he stood and stepped from the wooden sandals he wore. Putting them next to the bed, he lied down over the blankets, head nestled onto the soft quilt pillow. Within moments, he slept a sleep of death, without dreams or worry.
The dark man was silent no more. His brazen brown eyes wide open in wracking pain. Atop the tallest tower, tied tightly to a pair of posts. Lines of blood running over his body as the chains around his abdomen tighten roughly, cracking more of his fragile ribs. A loud shout of pain breaks out with the crack of a whip.
Silver locks blow in the breeze, her icy hues glowing with malice as she lashes again at his bare back. Deep blue leathers adorning every curve of her body, free hand turning the wheel beside her to tighten the chains. Feet anchored by spikes into the roof below him, his arms nailed to wooden posts to each side, all strapped with splintering old rope.
A low growl is heard from him, but another cry breaks out from him as a new lash appears behind his left shoulder. A quiet whimper of pain, teeth clenched and almost cracking in pain. The man was consumed in fear of her now, and pain as bad as it had gotten so far. The food not even settled in his belly before the torture had begun.
As winds blew by, the sheer ferocity enough to slice further at his flesh. Blood covers the rooftop around him, leaking over every side as he pales again, leaking his essence away. Clenching his fists for a moment, then realizing that only makes the wounds in his forearms greater.
She cackles loudly in pleasure, enjoying his pain very much, all the sweeter after his recent neurishment. She stepped close behind him now, whip on the ground, but the handle still in her white-knuckled grip. Her cold breath chills over the back of his neck, but he calms, grows quiet as the pain lessens, the wheel released.
She mutters softly, a beautiful but frightening voice echoing from her tender lips, "I'm sure you're having fun, darling, but why don't you tell me just how much it hurts.." kissing his shoulder lightly, grinning evilly, "Pwease? I'm vewwy curious.."
Heavy breathing as the air stills around them, his eyes down, still wide open and fearful. A sound like a wounded animal slow to start, but soon a half-groan leaves him. He turns his head, trying to get away from her. Teardrops long since run out, blood now trails down below his eyes, dropping to the subtle earth and he speaks in a cracked whisper, "It... hurts..."
The chilling laugh, his heart now finally showing it's reluctant fear of her. A loud cry as his arm forces the spike a little out of the post beside him, more blood gushing out at a slowing rate, "Stop.."
His struggle futile, and a little pathetic, she merely taps the spike and it's jammed fully back into the post. Other hand cranking the wheel and further cracking his shattered ribcage, puncturing his heart a thousand times.
"You're here, you deserve this, child..." came her wispy voice, carrying like the wind to his ears, "They sent you to us and I decided you get special treatment. No less than you deserve."
Going on like this, atop the mighty ice palace, his cries heard for miles in the cold air. Fists clutched tightly, he endures every moment without choice, without an option to die or sleep or run away from it. Her laugh all he hears, not bothered with another word as the pain stretches on for what seems forever.
The next town they met with was empty, dead as the night was. Ayane and Hallia's powerful senses proved that this large city was but a aghost town, like any other that seemed to hide themselves in forests.
Upon further inspection, though, things seemed different. Ayane sat and rested by an old and rusted shop, the windows as clean as new. Hallia wandered rooftops, silent and contemplating. But Darigan ventured indoors when he found a smithy.
"How can they do anything inside? A fire could start..." his heavy footsteps patting against a hard granite floor. Looking to the pots of red coals, somehting odd about them. Slowly, he crept forward, looking at the ashes below a few pots.
His eyes widen slightly before turning around and running outside. A heavy breath beats from him with every step before he comes back to where Ayane lay curled at a doorstep.
"Hey Ayane, get Hallia quickly, it's important!" grinning a little, but eyes alert and watchful, not really looking at her as she sat up and rubbed an eye with her paw.
In a moment, Ayane was back at the doorstep, trying to lay comfortably again. Fur a little ruffled now, but she would clean it in the morning.
Hallia looked pissed. Glaring up at Darigan, she says in a quiet tone, "What's so important, Big D?" tapping her foot a little, one hand behind her head, the other on her hip, looking fidgety and restless.
He laughed hesitantly before gesturing around, "I just noticed, this place all looks new!" eyes still trying to peer into every dark corner and crevice.
"Your point?" She said with a sarcastic tone, not looking pleased and trying to maintain eye contact, "I don't like being dragged around for idle chat."
He shrugged, not caring and not listening, "My point is that it looks like this place was deserted no earlier than today. The coals are hot and the food is on the tables and fresh."
Even longer than the last! Yay me? I think I have a bit of a thing for hurting myself, but whatever. I'm kinda hoping to get past the soon parts and hurry to my later ideas, but I hear rushing it can just kill a plot. New ideas for anything real soon will be VERY welcome. (Word to yo motha.)