War of the Fairies

by Split Infinitive

Link leads a motley crew of miscreants on a search for a cure for his wife, the fallen Princess Zelda. The cure,though,happens to be slap bang in the middle of a warzone.

9. Duel of the Links

9 – Duel of the Links

Morning broke over a circular field some distance away from the new Kokiri Village, the tall blades of grass tugged this way and that in an emerald sea, beams of fresh sunlight catching the blade of a solitary warrior standing dead centre as he methodically danced his way through various intricate manoeuvres. Drops of sweat flew from the Shadow Lord's skin as his sword spun and twirled gracefully in his hand, sighing as it chopped the air.

Zelda, it all goes back to Zelda, Link thought as he lunged in at an imaginary opponent. Would I be undergoing this particular little enterprise if I hadn't picked up the Princess' bad habits? Fighting to the death to save a Kokiri girl? No, no, I wouldn't be doing this at all.

Yes, you would. The other voice – the other, deeper side to him that had braved all to save Hyrule – made its presence felt instantly. Yes, you would. Maybe not exactly in this particular fashion, but you would have found a way, you always do.

Shut up, the Shadow Lord told the other voice as he digested its advice.

It all went back to the same thing: if anything important needed to be done, it would always fall on the 'Hero' to do it. Perish the thought that people would try and push for change by their own little hands.

"Still," Link mused, out loud. "Looks like it's going to be yet another lovely day. A lovely day for a duel, that is."

It wasn't long before the others came to join him. Dark Link – the Shadow Lord had to roll his eyes as the Dark One apologised to the air as he breathed it in – strolled in with Saria and the Fairy Queen, the latter two taking a position on one side of the field, while Navi and the rest of Link's troupe stood to attention on the other side. Pollen and Fairy Dust sprinkled the air as the Dark One took up his place directly in front of the Shadow Lord, sword at the ready. The bloated orb of the sun crept up over them, a silent witness to the contest below.

"None of your little Kokiri friends coming to watch the grand spectacle?" Link asked, looking over at Saria.

"All they need to know is the result," his old friend replied. She held up a scarf; it rippled against the breeze. "We shall be the sole spectators."

The Antagonistic Imp of Hostilia poked his head up out from Dark's tunic. It grinned as it fixed its gaze on the Shadow Lord. "You don't need no spectators, fairy boy," it whispered. "I got all the spectators you need riggght-"

A thick slap recoiled through the air as the Shadow Lord's fist met the Imp's chin. It rocked back and forth on Dark Link's shoulder, then fell flat on its face with a thud.

Dark Link gaped it shock. "But-!"

"Just me and you now, mate," the Shadow Lord replied, grinning.

Silence settled as everyone turned towards Saria. The little Kokiri stared back, her eyes blank and impassive. "Let this duel..." She let the cloth slip from her fingers. "...begin!"

There was the sound of shoes thudding against the ground, and they all looked up to see Chrysania running up the winding path to the field, her heels kicking up dust, her hood flapping in the breeze. Panting, she sidled up to Link's party and stood, her jade eyes wide. The Shadow Lord met her gaze, then mouthed 'I won't let them get you' and winked. Her face split into a grin in response.

"Trust you, good sir," Dark Link said, peering haughtily at the Shadow Lord, "to take the side of that evil spawn. It seems, as ever, I have to teach you the error of your misguided ways."

"She's just a little girl, mate, she's done no one any harm." Link's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. His eyes darted this way and that as he checked his surroundings: empty space ahead of him, a tree to one side and a misshaped boulder behind.

Dark stuck his nose in the air. "The stories I've heard about these Kokiri!" He shook his head. "Foul creatures, the lot of them. And that girl is the worst – trust me, the Queen knows all and I am her confidante."

Link began to circle his opponent, carefully placing his feet in just the right place. "Well, that's the difference between you and me, sunshine," he retorted. "I'm not the one to make a judgement just because of a few stories."

"They are different to us,"Dark replied, matching the Shadow Lord's movements.

"That's a crime now is it, mate?" Link feinted left, then right, Dark jerking into a defensive posture each time.

"It's not natural to stay so...so...so childish for such a long time," Dark said. "Like these Kokiri. One must grow up one day."

His breathing shallow, his concentration funnelled on his opponent, Link felt the world fade except for him and the Dark One. "In my experience," he said between gritted teeth. "It's the children that often have a lot more of that little quality we call wisdom than those pretending to be adults. Maybe because they see the world as it is, not as how we imagine it to be with all our little anxieties and hopes pricking at his from the corners of our mind. It's not natural to have that simple joy to life stripped away under the facade of what I'd laughably term as 'maturity.'"

Dark stopped short, a halo of sunlight crowning his head. "You, sir, are gravely mistaken."

They circled around each other once again, the tips of their swords kissing. Dark peered around to look at Link's weapon. "I see that you have constructed a new blade," he said. "You have indeed become powerful as I have foreseen."

The Shadow Lord paused, distracted. "What? What are you talking about?"

An explosion of movement followed as Link watched his mirror-image lunge in with a half-hearted thrust. The Shadow Lord parried it easily, his sword clinking against Dark's, then pushed his opponent back with a flurry of short strikes, intended more to test the Dark One than to harm him. Their blades slid apart, flashing, then the duo stood opposite each other once more.

Link cocked his head to one side, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Not bad, mate," he said. "You've been practising, I see."

Dark shrugged, grinning, a little colour rising to his cheeks. "Oh, you think so?" There seemed to be a flush of genuine surprise in his voice. "It's nothing, good sir, I assure you, I just like to work out once or twice in a-"

There was a rustle of a cloak, a whisper of a blade, and a blur of movement. Dark's words died in his mouth as he found himself cheek to blade with Link's sword. A drop of sweat rolled down his face, then plopped onto the polished steel making it shiver just a notch.

"I would've got you," the Shadow Lord said, grinning.

Dark twirled away, brining his sword around in a tight arc aimed for Link's flank. Relaxing his grip, the Shadow Lord let his blade swoop down to meet the attack. Steel rang out against steel, sparks spitting into the air, then Dark curved his weapon up, the tip screaming in for the Shadow Lord's face – and stopped short, the steel vibrating an inch from Link's nose.

Dark grinned. "No, you wouldn't have."

Link shoved him, then sprang into the air, flipping back as Dark lunged in with another attack. Landing on his feet, the Shadow Lord found himself driven back as the Dark One, arrogantly holding his blade with but one hand, thrust and withdrew with the fluid strikes of a scorpion whipping its tail in for the sting.

"Ha!" Dark crowed, his other hand on his hip. "Have at thee, fiend!"

Driven by pure instinct, the Shadow Lord of Castleton flung his sword up to block each attack, then ducked a swing and drove in with a riposte. Their blades locked, their contorted faces peering over at each other, touching almost nose-to-nose.

"I'll have you know, good sir," Dark said, trembling as he fought for an advantage in the deadlock, "that I am a better lover than I am a fighter!"

Link slipped, momentarily distracted, and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Why are you telling me this?"

They twirled apart, their blades disengaging with a metallic shimmer. "And," the Shadow Lord said, "Link – the tremendously dashing Shadow Lord of Castleton – jumps onto a boulder, propels himself into the air and - simply splendid! – just misses the top of the sap's scalp with a rather tasty arc for the head. Ooh la la, the wenches will be fainting over that one. And here comes Link again – can you believe the tenacity of this man? – diving under that somewhat pathetic attack from the sap – really, Tingle could do better – rides the momentum, then drives a sharp elbow straight into his opponent's face."

Dark screamed, reeling back as he held his now bloody nose.

"And did you hear the crack on that one, mates?" Link said, grinning. "That just echoed around the arena." He paused, then, "Had there been an arena, that is."

Glaring over the ruined remains of his nose, the Dark Lord shook his head in bewilderment. "What are you doing, good sir?"

"Oh, and would you hark at that? The boy – and I use that term in the loosest sense, you understand – still lives." The Shadow Lord licked his lips, sword at the ready. "Let's take a look at Link's opponent today – though, we all know you'd all rather take a look at the splendid specimen of heroism that is the Shadow Lord himself. Mr Dark is sporting a rather fetching frilly silk tunic – a big hit with the ladies of fashion, no doubt – so frilly that you expect him to wear it under normal clothes and not outside. And – while the boy is severely in want of many things, the most glaring of his deficiencies is that he lacks a Splendid Green Hat. Even Tingle wears a hat, and compared to this sap, Tingle is a true man!"

Dark growled. "Why are you referring to yourself as though you were not the one whom is speaking?"

"I think the term is 'in the third-person', mate," Link replied. "And this is what is known as a running commentary." He winked. "Adds to the drama."

With a bellow of rage, the Dark One lunged in with a clumsy attack. Link sidestepped easily, then shoved his mirror-image in the back. Watching the Dark One stumble, the Shadow Lord felt his spirits rise immensely – the bravado and the taunts had all been a calculated ploy, of course. He knew that since they had virtually the same skills, they would not be able to outmatch the other. Link had to make Dark lose his focus, had to make him break his concentration.

Dark realised it at exactly the same instant. Wiping his brow with his sleeve, he cautiously waved his sword ahead of him. He pulled back a few steps. "Do you know," he said, "how hard it is for me to be referred as 'Dark?'"

The Shadow Lord tested his opponent with a jab; Dark brushed it aside, their swords clattering. "I'd blame your parents," Link said. "But I don't think you have any."

"I know I'm not that much of a 'Hero'," he said. "I know deep down that I'm worthless, that everything is beautiful and light apart from me." He swung in with a slice aimed at the Shadow Lord's legs; Link gracefully flipped out of the way. "But do I need to be constantly reminded of that because of my name?"

"It amazes me the amount of people I encounter who insist on making themselves miserable because of the phantasms in their own head." Realising the Dark One wasn't listening, the Shadow Lord decided to try a different approach – he lied. "I'm sure you're a good chap deep down." He feinted left, feinted again, then spun his blade up and around to cut at Dark's head; the Dark One caught the attack, then tried thrust a knee into Link's midsection. The Shadow Lord rode the blow, slamming his head into Dark's chin, then shoving him back yet again.

Dark Link glared, thin rivulets of blood webbing his chin with a crimson net. "I'm not, I assure you!" He lunged in with a strike aimed for Link's shoulder; the Shadow Lord twirled away with liquid speed, then hit a stiff riposte as Dark tried to follow-up with another attack. Dark, breathing heavily, stepped back, bringing his blade to bear. "I know what people say about me. I know the foul things they mutter behind my back."

"Have you actually heard them yourself, mate?" the Shadow Lord asked, his eyes searching for an opening. "If not, then I'd suggest you not listen to the whispers of your own self – if we really think about it, deep inside our imaginations always manage to come up with the most pessimistic of futures for ourselves."

Dark spat. "And this coming from you?" he growled. "After all the things you say about me?"

"At least I have the guts to say it to your face, mate," Link replied. "That's assuming that other people really are as obsessed with you as you seem to think they – or that they think of you are as much as you clearly think about yourself."

Dark hesitated and in that heartbeat of frozen time, the Shadow Lord pounced, one foot in front of the other as he stabbed in with a precise thrust. Dark gasped, catching the attack at the very last moment and only just managing to swat Link's sword aside.

"I'll have you know that I had a life!" Dark cried, the cords of muscle in his face straining against the skin. "I even got married. Yes, that's right good sir, I had a wife, too!"

"You surprise me."

"But she died!" Dark was almost screaming now. "Two years ago she died!"

"I'm terribly sorry," the Shadow Lord replied. "Suicide, was it?"

Dark did scream now - in pure rage. "That's it, good sir, you've pushed me around long enough," he said. "It just so happens that I had a chance encounter with a head of a Stalfos that you may well be familiar with."

Link cocked an eyebrow. "That would actually explain a lot, mate."

"And you know what I learnt from him?" Dark replied, ignoring the Shadow Lord. "A Spell of Summoning!"

Muttering incantations under his breath, Dark Link grinned as the air became thick and the sky suddenly darkened. Screams rang out as the earth split apart beneath his feet, a jagged yawning mouth opening wider and wider. The ground rumbled, then shook. A fierce burning wind roared from the depths, then, with achingly-slow deliberation, the bubbling molten tip of an immense volcano peeked out from the crack, angrily spitting out charred black rocks that ploughed into the ground, churning up grit and soil.

Framed against this chaotic background, a spray of red sparks pluming up behind him, Dark Link threw back his head and cackled. The Shadow Lord watched, mouth agape, as the volcano rose higher and higher into the air, its immense bulk blocking out the sun as sizzling rocks tumbled down its slopes. "Egads..." he gasped, before diving behind the nearby boulder. Burning projectiles of magma and ash rained down upon him, tearing into the land with a roar. Crouching, teeth clenched as his heart spiked in his chest, Link could hear the tree that he'd spotted earlier implode as something struck it, tiny fragments of ash and burnt bark catching on the breeze and flying into his face. "Insane...bleedin insane!"

He glanced over at his friends, saw them huddling against each other at the edge of the field. That's when he realised that they were relatively safe, that the volcano's attacks were precise and pinpoint, aimed just at him. For a moment he considered running for it, then stopped himself – Dark would make the volcano track his movements and then he'd put the others in danger, too.

Waves of heat beat at his back, a harsh and bitter pounding that drilled into his bones and thrummed into his head. Wispy fingers of smoke clawed at him, stinging his eyes and making him choke. His head swam. His heart kicked against his chest, protesting. His eyelids grew heavy, and he could see pure blackness seep in through the corners of vision. "No," he gasped. He forced one last image into his mind, one last thing for him to cling to. The Princess' smiling face, ghostly and still lined with her scar, gazed back at him from his heart's eye.

Ground trembling under his feet, the air filling with the acrid stench of sulphur, the Shadow Lord of Castleton let his head roll so that he faced his friends once more, then shouted over the din. "A little help would be appreciated here!"

Navi dared to swoop in a little closer, dodging spinning flecks of burning rock all the while. "What can we do?" she cried, her eyes glistening with concern under the tinted sky.

"You tell me, love!" Link roared as the very air rumbled. "You're the one with the sage advice whenever I'm dropped into these ever-so-dangerous situations!"

Navi whirled around and around, her wings buzzing with frantic worry. "Uhmmm...Uhmmm," she muttered. "Hey! Link!"

"Yes?"

"Find cover!"

Link flinched as a solitary shard of molten flint ricocheted off the boulder and streaked past his cheek. "I am behind cover, love!" Smoke began to sizzle off of his tunic, the fabric unravelling as the heat ate through it. His hair clung to his scalp due to the sweat pouring down his face. "Come on, love!" he shouted. "I know you can do it! I know you must have something! Some overlooked little fact you always manage to pop out in the midst of battle!"

"Uhmmm...uhmmm," said Navi, her tiny drenched face scrunched up. "Something I always pop out in the midst of..." She stopped short, her eyes lighting up. She snapped her fingers in delight. "Hey! Link!"

"Yes?" said Link, clutching his hat as sparks tumbled down from above.

"Listen!"

"Yes!"

"Hit it on its weak spot!"

Link stared at the Fairy. "It. Is. A. Bloody. Volcano. It. Does. Not. Have. Any. Bloody. Weak. Spots."

And then, just as abruptly as it had begun, the churning chaos stopped. Warm sunlight beat down on the swaying grass once more. Gasping for breath, the Shadow Lord dared to take a peek over the edge of the boulder. Dark Link stood alone, looking forlorn and having the grace to seem somewhat embarrassed, all trace of the volcano gone save for one solitary wisp of black smoke curling from the edge of his raised finger. Dark shrugged sheepishly. "I haven't quite perfected the spell yet."

His strength returning in a surge, Link sprang on top of the boulder, crouched, then somersaulted into the air. He landed, sword flashing in the sun, then came to a stop, the tip of his blade brushing against Dark's throat. The Dark One was already tensing, ready to swing in with a defensive strike – Link wasn't about to let him, though. He needed to get through the man's skin and make him slip once again. "You, mate," said the Shadow Lord, "are not only the wettest of all saps, but you are, if I may say, dressed in something that Tingle would probably buy from an old maiden, then be too embarrassed to wear in public himself – and and you are the most worthless amateur magician in the whole of Hyrule. Volcano? I bet you were trying to summon killer rabbits from your non-existent hat, weren't you, mate?"

Snarling now, Dark brushed aside Link's sword, then threw himself at the Shadow Lord once more. Link, grinning, parried the attack, coolly swivelled on his heels, then kicked the Dark One to the ground. Rocking on the balls of his feet, the Shadow Lord brought his sword to bear. Dark's head snapped up, a knowing glint in his eye. "Tell me something, good sir," he spat. "Are we not also fighting for the honour of your lady love, too?" A sickly grin spread over his face. "Oh, but wait. Such a one as Princess Zelda has no honour. I'm sure you were the last in line to taste the sweetness of her company. Why, I heard the whole of Hyrule – myself included – had already been showered with her affection before you stepped in."

Link felt his chest tighten with rage. He knew he should keep his cool. He knew that the words were just lies, that Dark knew what he knew, and wanted to put him off-guard just like the Shadow Lord had thrown the Dark One off his concentration, too. He knew-

"In fact, good sir," Dark went on, pulling himself steadily to his feet. "It would seem now that you only now enjoy her when she is well past her prime – a broken face and a pathetic excuse for an intellect no doubt satisfies someone of dubious tastes such as your good self."

Eyes narrowed, his body crouched in an attack stance, Link stared over the tip of his sword at the Dark One. "Mate," he growled in a whisper. "No one mocks the Princess...except me!"

Dark almost snarled in triumph as the Shadow Lord came at him, blade swinging blindly. Digging his heels in, the Dark One kept his footing, deftly blocking and dodging every rage-fuelled strike Link threw at him. Dark's heart soared – he had regained the advantage and any minute now the Shadow Lord would make a fatal mistake. The clang of metal against metal rang out over the field, and the onlookers saw nothing but a blur of ferocious movement as the Dark One kept Link at bay, swinging his sword here, curling it up there, blocking, dodging, whirling. Any minute now. Any...minute...now...

Dark's mouth dropped open in horror as he found himself shoved back, the Shadow Lord lunging in with precise thrusts and elegant strikes that arced through the air like liquid. His sword now flashing in quick bursts as though he held a bolt of lightning made metal, Link drove onwards, anger propelling his every movement. It wasn't anger for his own sake, though – no, that would be arrogance of the highest order and he hoped that he'd left that side of him behind long ago. No, it was anger in defence of the honour of those absent. Anger in defence of the Princess' honour. His Princess' honour.

The Shadow Lord drove one foot into the earth, then coiled the muscles in his other leg. The momentum threw him forward, and he sliced in with a razor-sharp arc that would have slit the very air itself. His sword found Dark's, and sent it flying. He landed, flipped his blade in the air, caught it by its flat end, then drove the hilt into Dark Link's face. Dazed, the Dark One fell to his knees, defeated.

In the huddle at the far side of the field, Simon DeLance leaned in close to the other spectators. "Do you think if I challenged him to a duel he'd finish me off once and for all?"

Mr C buzzed by his ear. "If you don't quit your whining, fool," he said, pulling an arrow free from his quiver. "I'll make you fall in love. How would you like that, sucka? Hmm?"

Staggering back, Simon's mouth fell open, aghast at the suggestion. "By all that is Holy, no!"

Back in the centre of the field, Link stood over the Dark One, his sword at his opponent's throat once more. "Let this be a lesson to you, mate," he said. "As a wise man once said : wearing frilly undergarments as normal clothes is the sure path to true defeat."

Dark glared up at him, defiant. "I would retort, good sir, that he who wears the most ridiculous of green hats has no place to criticise the attire of others."

"My, my, the insults are flying now, aren't they, sunshine?" The Shadow Lord raised an eyebrow. "That's twice you've deeply offended me – maybe I should just put an end to you right here."

Dark snorted in disgust. "You couldn't put an end to a Fairy in a bottle, good sir, even if you tried. In fact, I'd wager the only thing that shrinks in fear from you, good sir, is the good women of Hyrule after they see your hideous complexion. No match for mine, of course."

"What? What? Are you insane, mate? We look exactly the same!"

Dark scowled. "Only in your wildest imaginations, good sir. I assure you that we look nothing alike."

"Are you mad?" Link's eyes were bulging now. "Did getting trapped in the Water Temple knock out your senses? Oh, wait – I've always wanted to know how you escaped from that particular little inconvenience, if you'd be so kind to indulge me."

"I escaped solely by relying on my own wits and superior intelligence."

Link sheathed his sword, then folded his arms across his chest, looking distinctly unimpressed. "No, really."

Dark's head dropped and he mumbled something under his breath as he cast furtive glances here and there.

"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Clearing his throat, his eyes burning with shame, Dark beckoned for the Shadow Lord to come closer. Link craned his neck, and the sound of furious whispering followed, carrying in the air. The Shadow Lord looked up, shocked. "No!"

Dark had the grace to look suitably sheepish. "Yes."

"What," the Shadow Lord continued, "with the fish?"

"Yes," Dark mumbled. "The fish."

"Surely not the turtle, too?"

Dark looked extremely uncomfortable. "Yes, the turtle, too."

Link took a step back, one hand rubbing his chin, and shook his head. "You sick, sick man."

A scream of rage cut through their conversation. The Shadow Lord glanced up, his eyes widening as he saw the bolt of pure, quivering fury that was the Fairy Queen herself bearing down on him. At the last possible moment he dived, his prized headgear floating in the air where his hair had just been. He plucked it out of the air, growling. "Hey!" he spat. "Watch out for the hat, woman!"

Another scream – this one curdled with fear – followed. Link sprang to his feet, just in time to see Navi struggling in the Queen's grasp, a tiny knife at her neck. Her pleading eyes found Link's, her miniscule body heaving with strain as she fought to break free.

"Nobody move," the Queen said, her voice like molten metal. "I will have a slave to do my bidding – and this little one shall be it." Link made to leap forward, but the Queen pushed the knife in closer. "Ah ah!" she spat, her lips curled in a cruel grin. "We shall now be leaving. I apologise for the melodrama, but I like to be direct and to the point – if anyone tries anything, I kill her, and then I'll just have to find another slave." Waves of fat jiggled as she laughed.

Powerless, his hands curling and uncurling with rage, the Shadow Lord of Castleton watched as the Queen floated off into the morning sky, a helpless Navi dragged along behind her.