Chapter 2 – Dreams and Loneliness

Zelda had had no idea of the damage she would do to her social schedule through getting Rosalind and Seth together. Steadily her time with Rosalind dwindled, while Seth began occupying her time before class, in between class and after. Zelda was glad to see her best friend looking so blissfully happy, but she couldn't help the selfish little part of her that wanted Rosalind back.

Because Deku wasn't bad company at night, but she still refused to answer Zelda.

Meanwhile, Mr. Mystery still hadn't called back. Zelda was quite sickened by how much she allowed this to affect her, but she found it impossible to stop her mind from wandering, especially in class when Seth and Rosalind were whispering and smiling at each other. Who was he? And why the hell had he called Zelda?

When she pondered about him at night she'd find some ridiculous notion pop into her head. Maybe he was watching her from the treetops. This would remind her of Rosalind and how much she missed her dreamy friend and plunge her into yet another bout of self-pity and more wondering about Mr. Mystery.

It was a vicious cycle.

There are various types of dreams. Those crazy kind where you're doing things in a totally illogical sequence, yet everything seems to make sense. Dreams of love and comfort in the arms of another. Nightmares of various phobias and intense fears. And then there are prophetic dreams, dreams of the past and dreams of the future. Unfortunately, because of their disturbing nature, prophetic dreams are often confused with nightmares.

Parents teach children that there is one thing that all dreams have in common, they cannot hurt you. It was something Zelda's Father had told her, so many times, so many nights, to the point that Zelda had believed him.

But there are exceptions to every rule.

The castle walls seemed to quiver with tension. It carried on the air, choking Zelda as she slept. Yet still she slept, immersed in the same dream of the same boy.

Until a hand was clamped over her mouth.

She opened her eyes and met the cold, crimson gaze that made her soul struggle to be freed from her body and escape.

"Ah, Princess. More dreams of your fairy boy?"

Before she could answer he had bound her in ropes of magic, dragged her from her bed and tossed her into the arms of a desert man dressed in dark leathers. Zelda's kidnappers rampaged through the castle, killing anyone who attempted to stop them in a simple slash of the throat. Zelda cringed as her satin slippers were dragged through the blood of one of her favourite servants. A tear escaped and tumbled down her pale cheek.

"Give me the princess!" The cold man called, pulling back the ropes of magic so that Zelda stumbled as he held her small form under his arm and mounted his black horse, placing her in front of him.

Zelda's mind, that had been numbed from fear and shock, began to function once more. Though her arms were pinned she began to struggle to reach the instrument from the cord around her neck. Her hand finally closed around the cold instrument and she gave a yank, snapping the cord that held it around her neck.

As they flew through the village her leg caught a lethally sharp, low branch. She winced, feeling the pain of the deep gash searing her torn skin. Her hand tightened around the small flute. He was her only hope.

As they approached the lowered drawbridge, Zelda's heart leapt into her throat. There was a forest green figure ahead of them. She heard her captor laugh, darkly.

"He's mighty determined, princess. I must ensure not to underestimate him. Or, indeed, you."

Her whole body tensed, clutching the flute against her heart. She had one chance.

She could see his azure blue eyes before they crossed the drawbridge. Two twin pools of endless blue, drawing her soul, gently. His golden hair was hanging in his face, saturated with water from the heavy rain, pelting down upon them like rocks being tossed by the goddesses. He looked not at her captor as they grew closer, but at Zelda and she tried with all her might to keep herself from crying.

Her eyes closed. The moment was now. She threw out her arm and tossed the flute with every ounce of strength she had left, willing him desperately to understand.

And then there was darkness.

"I've found you."

Zelda awoke sharply, gasping as she pushed her head above the waves of sleep rolling over her. Her cheeks were sticky with tears and her head was pounding. As she sat up, trying to steady her breathing, a pain shot up her leg. Her eyebrows furrowed as she clicked on the lamp.

And then she saw the blood. Her sheets were soaked deep red by the blood from a deep gash in her leg.

A gash that had not been there when she had fallen asleep.

A gash from a tree branch.

Her breathing became shallow and desperate as she did the thing that was instinctual to her. Her legs skittered as she stumbled out of bed and wrenched her bedroom door open. Impa was awake, standing on the landing. She rushed to Zelda, catching hold of her.

"How is it real?" Zelda sobbed, burying her face in Impa's shoulder.

"Hush, Zelda," Impa soothed her, memories of a thousand other nights consoling Zelda after she awoke from another horrific dream. "You're safe, Princess, shh."