Nothing much to say. Thanks to reviewers!
Oh, yes, and check out this exclusive offer, available to anybody who's reading this…(so I guess it's not exactly exclusive, but oh well!)
FOR ANYBODY WHO DIDN'T REALLY *GET* THE WHOLE CRUCIFIXTION THING AND THE YELLING OF THE STUFF BEFORE TYR DIED: I am willing to rewrite a shortened, modern version of the telling of the death of Jesus Christ, just for you guys. And for anybody out there who's, like, devout and stuff, relax, dude! I am *not* making fun of the death of Jesus. He was a great guy! He brought reform to the ancient world! (Reforrrrrrrrrrrrrrrm party! That's making fun of that Canadian politician guy, not Jesus!) Anyway, it's a pretty complex story, so, to fully understand it, if anyone asks me, I will put together a brief – ish summarization. I'm only going to offer this for maybe one or two more chapters, so get it while it's hot!
-Shawshank
Chapter 22 – What Happened Then (Or, The Blue, PLAID Pyjamas)
The lovely creature in his arms smiled up at him, and he felt his mouth contort in return. The golden light filtering through the many, huge windows on all four walls of the corridor shone through her hair, enhancing its already golden colour. She was wearing a beautiful, sky blue dress that swirled around his legs with every step. A slight breeze ruffled his loose hair, and she giggled and ran her long, bare fingers through it. He grinned down at her, and she sighed, settling her head under his chin. He held her closer, and they waltzed further down the hall, turning slowly and shuffling in no particular direction.
He closed his eyes and took her hand in his, holding it to his chest and squeezing it tightly. He couldn't remember how he had lived before he had met her. She had just appeared before him, a fallen angel out of the blue. He didn't want anything else. She gazed up at him and fluttered her eyelashes, smiling with love in her eyes. He bent down to kiss her… and she ripped herself out of his grasp, her silent screams lost in the old, still air of the room. She stumbled backwards, trying to escape. Shocked and hurt, his gaze happened to fall upon one of the many mirrors in the long hall.
Something was happening to him. Wings were sprouting from his back, and black lines were crawling under his skin, forming blurry patterns. He stared into his own eyes, and watched as they darkened, leaving only blue rings around the edges of where his irises had once been. He gawked at his own misty reflection (A/N: Think when Link first sees Ganon's Castle), and in the exact moment that all light went out of the skies, his reflection sharpened. The lines were tattoos, covering every part of him! He gasped and turned back to the suddenly unknown woman, feeling himself slipping even as he walked to her, holding out his hands, begging for her acceptance. She screamed again, and this time he heard it; the piercing noise rung through his head and in his ears.
Something deep within him broke loose, and the sheltered, fuzz – brained fool that he had thought he was vanished like smoke on the wind. The demon that had been inside him all along reared its massive head, and the metamorphosis was finished. *He* was finished. She could never love a monster, not like she had loved him before. It was the end of things, the end of everything he had held dear. Yes, it was even the end of her, for she teetered on the edge of the floor, falling backwards out of the arched, glassless window. He ran to her, tried to take her back – but it was too late. Even as he watched, she fell, hands outstretched, into the waiting mouths of the gigantic monsters waiting in the deep, shadowed valley below. He raised his now mutated head to the skies and screamed, screamed so loud that thunder answered back and people ran from the sound, covering their ears. His pain radiated from him, affecting the very land; plants wilted, trees were felled by some invisible force. Rivers ran away from the sea, and soon the oceans were dry. The Earth had taken back her water, finally fed up with the people treating it as badly as they did. With no room for it in the middle of the Earth, fire erupted from the deep places of the world, fire and shadows the like of which the world had never seen.
He swore revenge against that which had taken her away from him, and with that promise, all the lands in the world came to know War in all his anger and terror. With that promise, he dedicated the rest of his short days to finding and destroying that which had freed the demon within him.
With that promise, he began the long and perilous quest to destroy himself.
His tattoos began to glow as he walked through the mirror with familiar Runes engraved on the wall above it.
***
Yehrutte sat bolt upright, then sighed, recognizing the loud and sudden noise for what it was. He angrily threw a robe on over his warm pyjamas (A/N: Yes, even bad guys have pyjamas! I like pyjamas! Don't diss pyjamas! I could probably rave on about pyjamas for another two minutes – kind of like Justin could rave on about colour – but I'm sure you're thinking "Just shut up and write the story!" That's what my muse is thinking too, so I better get going before she decides to whack me on the head with something heavy and - *OUCH*! Anyway, I'll put the first part here in case you lost track.) He angrily threw a robe on over his warm (A/N: Plaid!) pyjamas and stalked out of his private tent, paying no mind to the guards gambling around the fire, although one nearly fell into the flames when it saw him speed walk by. The robe flew back with the speed of his passage, and a foolish guard burst out laughing at the sight of his blue, plaid ( A/N: I told you! PLAID!) pyjamas. He snarled and killed the idiot with a passing glance, then merely continued on his way, annoying the extremely subdued titters around him. As he got closer to Urian's tent, the sounds were louder ( A/N: You sick – minded people! Remember, I don't do *that* in my writing!), and all of the guards but the ones he had threatened with death had taken off long before. Not that he minded, let alone noticed. He had cast a powerful spell over the entire group, excluding himself and Urian; if any of the mindless fools deserted, they would die a very painful death the second they took a step out of the large circle of dead grass that always resulted from their campsites. He hadn't told any of them, and he didn't really care to, either. They could find out for themselves how traitors to the true Master suffered.
He swept aside the tent flap with one hand, poking his head into the darkness and wincing as loud shouting assaulted his ears. He snapped his fingers and lit the candles that had been set up all around, going to the bed and shaking his creature.
"Urian! Wake up! URIAN!"
The monster's eyes snapped open, and it flung Yehrutte's hand off of its shoulder, breathing heavily. When it spoke a few moments later, after catching its breath, its voice was raw.
"Do not touch me ever again. I do not like to be touched."
Yehrutte snarled at its arrogance.
"Remember your place, Urian! I am your *creator*! You cannot tell me what to and what not to do."
It merely looked at him, then its face twisted into a smirk.
"You think you could contend with me? That is the most laughable thing I have heard since you brought me to life on your cold table of rock. And you did not create me, you merely changed me."
Yehrutte sighed and nodded. "Well, you bring up a good point. What did you dream of, Urian?"
Urian bared its teeth, its nose wrinkling in anger. "That is for me to know and you *never* to."
"I am your Master! I command you to tell me!"
"NO!" The loud shout audibly rattled the bones of the guards outside. Urian calmed itself. "No. My dreams are my own."
"I will not have my own creation keep secrets from me!"
Urian smiled at Yehrutte.
"Must I remind you again? I am not your creation."
"Well, there's no need to shout about it! I'm sure the whole world knows by now!"
Urian's smiled froze over like a shallow puddle in a blizzard.
"Oh, not yet, but they will. They will all know of me soon enough. And, Yehrutte, *you* are the one who always insists on yelling, not I."
Yehrutte snarled angrily and stalked out, leaving Urian to laugh at his blue plaid pyjamas. (A/N: YES, for the last time! BLUE PLAID PYJAMAS! And bunny rabbit slippers… ;o)
Urian whispered under its breath as it got up and extinguished the candles by pinching them with its fingers. "Remember this conversation, Yehrutte. Remember it well, when the time comes for me to destroy you and all you stand for."
When Night had draped her shadowy cloak over the tent again, magic had somehow permeated into the air. Urian looked into the deepest shadows and saw a misty, glowing figure. It was a girl – no, it was a young woman. She was beautiful beyond all it knew, and she looked familiar. It was on the edge of its brain, then, as she giggled, something triggered. It was the woman from his dream! It lunged for her, its wings spread, and she vanished just as it touched the edge of her glowing aura. It screamed aloud, a primitive, animal scream.
"YOU STOLE HER! BRING HER BACK!"
It dropped to the ground, not caring that its pants would be dusty and gritty. Its hands touched the ground, feeling the absence of life under its fingers and not liking it. There was something *wrong* about all of this. This wasn't right, somehow. It didn't know why – it just knew. It knew there was something wrong about only remembering waking up under the surgical tools of Yehrutte. It couldn't remember anything…*before*. Although Yehrutte had told it that there *was* no before, it knew he was lying.
It smiled cruelly to itself. It would greatly anticipate the day when it would squeeze the information out of Yehrutte. Yes, it would be free…when Yehrutte and his spells were dead.
***
"By all the Sovereigns of the Ancient World…"
Even Navi winced at the sound of Zelda's softly spoken curse. It was one of the strongest they had ever heard, coming from her. Although the names of the Goddesses were often used to curse, few people dared to swear by the Ancient Sovereigns, who had *created* the Goddesses and given them the world to do with as they pleased. Trying to erase the memory of it from her mind, she crouched on Zelda's shoulder, glancing up at the sky whenever she could tear her eyes away from what lay before them and check to make sure that no huge lightning bolts were heading for them. Kawhin was still hiding in the forest, trying to deny himself the truth. Navi shook her head in helpless sympathy. Poor kid. He obviously hadn't seen death before, but she had, and she knew that what was before her eyes was a prime example.
A lonely pile of burnt wood stuck out in the middle of the rolling plains. It was still smoking, and now small wisps of steam were starting to rise up, because of the slight drizzle that was starting up. Navi hated rain. She tried to hold a lock of Zelda's hair over herself, but it was no use. One of the biggest, fattest, wettest drops plunked down exactly on top of her, and she was soaked instantly. She forcibly held back a tantrum and flew out bravely into the brewing storm, reasoning that she couldn't get any wetter than she was.
She came back much more quickly than she had left, nervously skittering around in the air surrounding Zelda's face.
"Zelda… don't go over there, whatever you do! I saw – I saw – something horrible. Stay here!"
Zelda closed her eyes and sighed. Navi's constant *hyperness* was driving her totally insane! And it didn't help that she couldn't think one single happy thought… Finally, she snapped, and snatched Navi out of midair in her right hand.
"You know, Navi, sometimes I just get *sick* of you! I don't know how Link could stand to be around you for all that time!"
Navi bit Zelda's finger, and she released the fairy with a yelp. Navi's aura was brimming with red, but Zelda either didn't know what that meant or didn't care to recognize it.
"Well, sometimes I wonder why he fell in *love* with you, the way he constantly complained about you!"
"WHAT?"
"I'm saying that, every single time he tried to go talk to you, he always ended up hurt, and I always ended up having to comfort the poor kid!"
"Well, it's not MY fault!"
"YES IT IS! YOU'RE THE CAUSE OF ALL OF HIS UNHAPPINESS!"
"OH YEAH? AT LEAST *I'M* NOT THE ONE BUZZING AROUND HIS HEAD YELLING, 'HEY! LOOK! LISTEN!' ALL THE TIME!"
"WELL, AT LEAST I DON'T HAVE TO GET MYSELF CAPTURED EVERY TWO DAYS BY SOME EVIL MASTERMIND, AND THEN SEND LINK A TELEPATHIC MESSAGE *BEGGING* HIM TO SAVE ME!"
"WELL, AT LEAST I DIDN'T FORCE HIM INTO A QUEST HE OBVIOUSLY DIDN'T WANT TO DO!"
"WELL, AT LEAST I WAS THERE WITH HIM, NOT JUST SITTING ON MY PRETTY LITTLE A -"
Would you two please cut it out? I'm not feeling all that well.
They both turned, tempers still boiling, to glare at Kawhin, who had just emerged from the brush and was now tottering towards them with an oddly grey shade to his face. He sat on a rock facing the forest, purposely turning his back on both them and the pile of burnt wood.
And, Navi, you thinking about that bloody hand you saw doesn't make it any better. I'm still not used to this whole concept of violence. I must say it's disturbing. I don't like it very much. He paused, forcing himself not to glance at the wood. Should we bury her?
Zelda shook her head slowly, spraying them all with tiny water droplets.
"No… no. Somehow, it doesn't seem right. She let slip something about her life before – she said she felt like she belonged to the land or something… and do you remember that vision we experienced, her memory? No, it's not right. We should leave her body here, it would make her happy."
Shouldn't we even drag her out from under all that wood?
"Kawhin…I hate to say this, but she was burned. There won't be anything *left* of her body, anyway, except for a few…bits and pieces."
Navi perched tentatively on Kawhin's shoulder, tensing her body so she could leap out of the way if he was sick again.
"You know, Link was raised in a fairly peaceful environment, but he seemed to *thrive* on fighting, somehow. But, one day, everything seemed to… fall apart, somehow. It was a really trying time, for both of us."
Zelda sat across from them both, not heeding the warning look Navi shot her. She couldn't really care if she got anything else on this stupid frumpy dress – it was pretty much torn to shreds anyway. She would have to start taking after Tyr and wearing pants if she wanted to be of any use to the others.
"What do you mean by that, Navi?"
She shook her head sadly, wiping away invisible little fairy tears.
"I… well, that is… it's too painful. I can't say here. Not with Tyr right over there…"
Zelda took Kawhin by his hands and pulled him to his feet.
"Well, forget about it, then. Let's try and think of some of the better things.
They walked off into the drizzle, in no particular direction, just towards the place where they could see the most clearly. Kawhin noticed that dead grass was crunching under their feet, but he thought nothing of it. Instead, he laughed with Navi and Zelda as they recalled some of their most fond memories of Link, in a failing attempt to chase the thought of Tyr's recent and mysterious death from their minds.
"Hey, there was one time at the Ranch, that jerk Ingo locked us in, after we won Epona from him. Have you ever been there, Zelda? You have? Okay, you know that flock of chickens, over where the tree used to be? Well, Epona accidentally stepped on one…"
Zelda actually giggled as walked onwards, hand in hand, into the night. For a second, her steps faltered – why had she suddenly seen a pair of glowing, ice blue rings in the darkness before her? She shook off the vision and continued walking, telling them of her and Link's adventures together when she had been Sheik, and the look on his face when she had told him, and everything else she could think of to make her feel as though Link was not dead, but merely… delayed.
It was mid-morning and still slightly dark before the mists finally burned away. When they did, the three friends were standing stock - still on the edge of a circle of charred, brown grass, with more than twenty pairs of glowing red eyes staring hungrily at them.
Zelda screamed, and all hell broke loose.
***
Somewhere far away, something happened. A large flock of ravens had taken flight suddenly, as birds did in response to sudden noises. A pair of odd eyes squinted into the bright, welcoming light of the risen sun. They closed, bringing the hoped – for darkness; but a carrion bird pecked at her hand. She struck out at it, sending it scrambling into the sky, squawking in protest. She sighed and sat up.
At least, she tried to. Something was blocking her every attempt to move. Frustration fired through her, and this gave her new strength. She brandished her anger like a huge gauntlet, forming her hands into fists and removing all of the heavy oak wood that had been caging and protecting her at the same time. She didn't know how she did it – she just *did*. Flames came into existence all around her, burned away the remnants of her cage, and then extinguished themselves, all at her gentle prods.
She stood up slowly, not caring that all of her clothes had burned off. Luckily, they had not melted into her skin – unfortunately, the nails in her wrists and ankles had. She now had thick cylinders of silver impeding her movement – they could not be removed, as they were the only thing holding her wounds together at the moment. Even if she did have them removed a long time from now, she would eventually bleed to death. She was stuck with the reminder of this humiliation for the rest of her life.
She walked around the site, searching for the two things that meant more to her than anything – her swords. They were her one stability in life, the one thing she had to hold on to. She ground her teeth together when she saw that they had both been snapped in half by the creature that pretended to be Link. A haze of red blurred over her vision, and she screamed aloud. She began to walk.
She was hungry, tired and thirsty, but none of that seemed to matter. The swords she had found in the wolves' den, the ones they had found lying half – buried in the bottom of a clear stream, and brought back just for her – this one last reminder of that time in her life when she had truly lived was completely gone.
All that remained was the tear pendant and the deep red moon.
She angrily tore the moon from around her neck, trying to snap the chain. When she finally realized she couldn't, she gathered it in her hand and threw it away with all her strength, making sure to throw it where she would not walk. She took the tear pendant in her hand and squeezed it as she thought.
Why hadn't the fire killed her? By all rights, she should have been dead. But, no, she was alive and walking – was she a ghost? She seemed real enough to herself… many things to puzzle over.
When she heard a slight whisper in the back of her mind, she forced all of her thoughts to disappear. Sometimes, when she was in dire need of help, the pendant's wisdom could be heard. She felt the presence of an ancestor, far too ancient to be traced back, and listened closely to his soft – spoken words.
"Well, little one. It seems your time has come. I will soon be free of the pendant, and you will become what you must. Look at yourself, and tremble! Always remember, *you must keep your mind about you*, or you will never be free. Always remember!"
The faceless voice vanished, and reality came rushing back in. She touched her scales thoughtfully, and, with a start, pulled her hand away from her face and stared at it.
Where once before the scales had been an earthy green, now they were the exact shade of a dying flame. They were rock solid, and when she tried to peel one off, she merely cut herself on its sharp edge. She hissed between her teeth and kept walking, again not paying attention to where she was going.
When darkness suddenly fell all around her, she realized that she had entered the Forest of the Lost. Now she would surely die! She whirled around, looking at the ground, trying to decipher which way she had taken in to the Forest, but it was no good. She was a goner, and she knew it. So, she simply sat on a rock and waited to be killed. She hated just sitting around like this, but what else was there to do? She had no choice but to give up. The Forest of the Lost would be her grave.
"Now, why would you think something like that?"
A pair of bright eyes loomed out of the darkness, but before Tyr could respond, a huge paw knocked her flat.
"What're you doin' round here, kiddo? If you lose the light for too long, you're gonna die, same as if I lose the dark."
Tyr shouted into the face of the strange creature, "I'm lost!"
"No need to shout, child. Here, hold on to my shoulder. I see it in your eyes – you're one of the Chosen. Don't try to argue with me, your mind just told me it's true. I'm gonna take you to meet somebody. He's been waiting a looooong time, yes a long time to see you. Come on, child. Don't get lost, now! Keep up!"
Tyr had no choice but to follow the odd voice. She reached out, expecting to touch a woman's shoulder, but instead found strong shoulder blades rolling beneath a thick coat of fur that was incredibly soft to the touch. She gasped and tried to pull away, but the creature's huge padded paw pushed her closer to it.
"Now, there's no need to be afraid, kiddo. You know, I remember every single being I've met in this Forest. Not too long ago, your fellow stopped by. Did they give you that necklace? Yes, your mind says they did. What? You THREW IT AWAY! Child, I'm disappointed! Now everything is going to be a lot more difficult than I expected."
"What are you talking about? Who are you?"
She heard a smile in the creature's voice as it spoke again.
"You'll soon see, missie. You'll soon see. Oh, and your friends didn't tell you about me? What a shame, what a shame. Your name is Tyr, huh? You'd be the Hybrid?"
"Yes, I am. Now who the hell are you?"
"Well, I really shouldn't be answering, see as you choose to dirty your mouth with that foul language, but it's only fair. Yes, well, my name… are you sure they didn't tell you? I'm Furona."
***
Hey, does anyone remember her? From, like, the second chapter or something! Anyway, here's my author note things.
SEE OFFER AT TOP! NOT AT BOTTOM, AT TOP! IMBECILE! (Not you, the guy to your left.)
I wish to thank Dark Dragon, not only for reviewing – 3 times! – but also for agreeing to 'babysit' my stories whilst I am grounded from the 'Net. Her version of an explanation is in my bio, and I just don't want to talk about it. But I do have a statement… MY BROTHER'S FRIENDS ARE ***MEAN***!!!!!!!!!!
Anyhoo, I love all reviewers! I'm so sorry I can't name you all, I have such a bad memory! But I know H7 was in there, along with DaZZle and somebody who said my fight scenes weren't crap – THEY ARE, YOU LIAR – and other people who haven't reviewed before. I love new reviewers and repeat reviewers the same! Also, thanks to my Spider-Man Soundtrack, my constant writing… uh… soundtrack. Sure. Whatever.
In the NEXT Chapter: All hell breaks loose, and Furona takes us (lowers voice dramatically) deeeeeeeeep into the daaaaaaaaaark Forest of the Lost…
This Week's Proverb: Take one day at a time. Remember that tomorrow is another day and yesterday is gone, not to be repeated.
This Week's Revelation: Singing American Pie is fun, but it kinda reduces your feelings of self – worth when people are *talking* while you're singing, and little grade seven jerks won't let your guitar backup use your amplifier, and you have to drag the heavy one all the way down from the music room, and I probably just gave away my identity to anyone from my school who's reading this, but that's okay! (Breathes in deeply.)
This Week's Lyrical Quote:
Free is all you gotta be,
Dream dreams no one else can see.
Sometimes, ya wanna run away;
But you never know what might be comin' round your way.
On a Day Like Today,
The whole world could change;
The sun's gonna shine,
Shine through the rain.
On a Day Like Today,
You never wanna see the sun go down.
-From On a Day Like Today by Bryan Adams
Well, so long. Seeya next time.
-*Somebody get this cat off my head* Shawshank
