A/N: Goddamn Link's mindset in this chapter is so WRONG can't fucking wait for him to get some godsdamn character development :D
I totally get that some people are really fed-up with Link's dumbassery as of late... but trust me, it's intentional and it's temporary. *winks with both eyes* What's the point of writing a 700k fanfic about the same main character if you don't leave room for development? It will all come to bite him in the ass later, I assure you~!
Whenever I namedrop other soldiers and draftees, see if you can recognise them ;)
The Light Invasion
PART I - DESERT THE ARMY
Link of Ordon: Is your duty to your kingdom, or the parasite in your shadow?
Chapter 9 - A Clash of Steel and Timbre
Had Link slept at all that 'night'? It had begun with tosses and turns, until one of the other draftees snipped at him for creaking the bedframe. Link had caged himself in stillness as his head continued to gallop. He had met the prince, had tea with the prince, and received so many answers he craved from the prince, only for Midna to spoil it like a worm in an apple.
She was spoiling a lot of things. For years, he had been so excited to leave Ordon and explore the wider world. Ilia wanted that for him, Rusl wanted that for him, and most of all, Link wanted it for himself. Now that it was finally happening, what was the catch? An imp that soured every moment like Pergie's brine.
When Link was gifted his destiny, Midna mocked him for it. When he harmlessly relished in the open fields, Midna scolded him for it. She even said "I can't protect you out here" and then got mad when he checked into an inn. Then, after he so generously gave her passage into Castle Town, because maybe he gave the smallest damn about her, she repaid him by slandering the very prince trying to resolve this horrible conflict that her people had incited.
"He must have sent the light spirits into the twilight realm so that his army could march upon it." What rubbish. Next she'll try to convince him that the Goddess Hylia was Ganondorf's puppet, or that there was a secret society of cuccos in the heavens.
Back at the spring, Midna had convinced Link that he needed her, but he didn't need her snippy snappy snarks, or her ridiculous conspiracies, or her complete and utter disrespect for his privacy. Now that he was in an army full of men dedicated to reclaiming the spirits, he didn't need her help to get to the Twilight Realm either, nor would he need her guidance once the scouts did all the surveying.
The only reason why he gave her an inch, knowing full well she'd take a foot, was because of her magic. She could snare him with shadows, just as her fellow Twili had on the day of the draft, or she could snap away his belongings, just as she had a handful of times already, or she could set him aflame, just like she did to the shadowbeasts in the ranch. Maybe she also had the power to curse him into a wolf! There were countless ways she could mistreat, maim, or murder him if he didn't meet her demands. Still, no true hero would forsake the right thing at the whim of their shadow. Link would have to continue helping his allies, while also giving enough crumbs to the little imp to keep her dangerous temper at bay.
The bell rang, and the dorm sprang into motion. Link must have gotten some shut-eye, because it didn't feel like he had been awake for eight hours. He hadn't gotten enough rest, but he wasn't groggy yet. That would catch up to him later. For now, he scrambled with the rest to make the bed and shimmy into his gear. They had a small window before the other half of the army arrived.
As he stood straight-backed by his bunk at the back of the dorm, waiting for the captain's inspection, Link searched every face in his periphery. Many snuck a gawk at him, but not because they were family who were shocked to see he was alive and well. They were strangers marvelling his tunic. To be fair, it was a marvellous tunic.
The captain drew closer, and curiously, those closest to him stood straighter. Forced their gawping away. A few sneaky sheets rustled beside Link. Last second adjustments? How do you straighten up perfection?
Everything was dim in the candlelight, and dim made it harder to figure out what made this captain so special, but five beds ahead of Link, it clicked. Not a captain. General.
But why would Fabian's left-hand woman be inspecting the beds of such lowly soldiers? Unless one was considered a little less lowly than the others.
At long last (and in no time at all), Alexus stopped before Link. She was three heads taller than him and twice as wide, blotting out the little light there was. Just a silhouette with a few flames dancing in her brown eyes. Eyes that narrowed at Link's lower bunk. He should've put more work into straightening his sheets than he did straightening his hat.
"Link of Ordon," Alexus said in her gravelly voice. "On behalf of the prince, I will be giving you a tour of the training grounds." Her figure covered every eye looking Link's way, but they were looking his way, and this was not lost on Alexus. "But don't mistake your place, recruit," she projected, more for the room than him. "You're as fresh as this lot of meat, and we'll cure you just the same. Understood?"
Link saluted the way he saw other soldiers do yesterday. His fingers and thumbs formed a triangle over his heart, representing the Triforce. "Yes, general."
"Next time I see a salute that sloppy, you run a 'day's' lap around the city."
He snatched his hands behind his back. "Sorry, general."
A few soldiers snickered. "Same goes for you lot!" she snarled. "Hyrule is at war. If I catch you laughing on the battlefield, it better be at the shadowbeast on your spear."
'Shadowbeast' as in 'beast', or 'shadowbeast' as in 'Twili'? Midna would tear off his lips for spreading that false name throughout the army.
At Alexus's order, the soldiers marched from the dorm. She and Link took the flank. The back of every head was a stranger. Jaggle's crewcut, Bo's egg-top, Hanch's oily bob, and Fado's broad neck were all nowhere to be seen. Not even Rusl's choppy, sun-bleached hair bobbed among the crowd.
The drill-worn redeads shuffled down the other side of the hall, but the Ordonian's tanned, freckled faces weren't among them either. Good grief, they all looked exhausted, and Link was gonna feel much the same at the end of this 'day' and the next and the next.
Maybe Midna's demand that Link desert the army had some merit, but only as an indulgent fantasy. War meant getting to work. It was not Fabian's wish to push his citizens this hard; the Twili had forced his hand.
Link had a new theory about the little imp. It explained her outlandish conspiracies from last night. She was an insurgent from her own realm who wanted to puppet-master the chosen hero for her own bid for power. All that stuff about breaking him out of his basement, killing the shadowbeasts, and lifting the twilight? A ploy to win his trust, and it had worked. It had worked so well that he had committed the treason of sneaking her into the castle.
Letting her into the city was a mistake. Yesterday, he could've cut the strings without lifting a finger. That showed how dangerous Midna was. Able to trick Link into smuggling a spy.
Oh gods, if General Alexus found out what he did…
"As I understand it, you've killed shadowbeasts before." Alexus led him through a hall towards the ballroom balcony.
"Yes, general." Arguing against the use of 'shadowbeast' was pointless. He'd take Midna's hissy fit over Alexus's fondness for pikes any day.
"And how did you draw them from the shadows?"
Could shadowbeasts –actual shadowbeasts– even hide in the shadows? Best to assume they could. "They weren't in the shadows," Link said. "They patrolled the village and feasted on our goats."
For the first time, Alexus glanced over her shoulder at him, an eyebrow raised. "Live goats?"
"Yes, general."
"My my, I knew we were dealing with a tribe of dark mages, but not savages."
Link said nothing. Alexus could believe whatever she wanted about the Twili, but Link was here to fight them with the edge of his blade. Not the curse of his word.
"Seems like you got lucky, hero." They stopped before ornate double doors flanked by two guards. Beyond them, something cracked like a bullwhip. "Our reports say the shadowbeasts rarely leave the shadows. Fortunately, we have ways of forcing them out."
At the stomp of Alexus's boot, the guards on each side of the door grasped a brass ring handle and pulled. The doors groaned open to a ballroom balcony lording over bangs and hisses.
Upon one matt, like every other, was nothing but a soldier with a flail and a closed fist. He threw something at the floor. Flash. Pitch-black figures were sprawled and shrieking. Twili. Link reached for a hilt that wasn't there. A growl rumbled in the back of his throat.
Alexus laughed. "You bare your teeth like a beast." Link sealed his lips, but the general was half-smiling. "I like that."
There were Twili invaders in the ballroom, and Alexus was smiling. Twili were being expelled from shadows by whatever sparked that light, tangled in a tossed flail, and then speared into nothingness. Even as Hyrule held its own, a general would be remiss to watch the battle as if it was jousting practice. Link had a part to play. A duty to assist his comrades. "I'll run and get my weapons."
"You will do no such thing, soldier," Alexus sharped. "Look closer. Tell me what you see."
On several matts under several shadows, soldiers snatched something from a satchel and threw it down. Flash. Twili, dazed and snarling. They lunged, a flail was thrown, and they fell in its tangle. The soldiers drove spears through throats, hearts, and guts, but there was no blood. Not even a cry of agony. They simply faded from existence, leaving only the flail and a withered strip of parchment behind. Something tinged inside. Didn't he read something about magic parchment before?
Snatch. Throw. Flash. Enemy. Snare. Spear. Fade. This didn't feel like a battle against Twili invaders. It felt like a sport. A routine sport with equipment and techniques and rules.
"Is this a training exercise?" he asked.
"Looks like you've got something between your ears after all," Alexus said. "Shadowbeasts are undetectable in the shadows, so to combat them, we use deku nuts to create a flash that momentarily incinerates nearby shadows. Once expelled, we employ the snare-and-stab technique before they can slip back in."
"Are you using real Twili?" Link asked.
"Don't speak out of turn. And no, we aren't using these Twidle-dies or whatever nonsense you just spewed." But they clearly were. "We've been recreating shadowbeasts with Sheikah illusion spells."
That was it! One of Link's favourite books had been about the various magics of Hyrule. Sheikah would use hand-signs or parchment strips to conjure spells. Link had spent days of his youth trying to create a clone to play with or a Bo disguise to play mayor for the day, but alas, no magic answered his careful brush-strokes or rehearsed gestures. His books weren't instructional, as those were secrets held close to the royal family, or so it was rumoured.
Link itched for those deku nuts and flails. If he had those back in Ordon, perhaps he would not have been captured and cursed into his beastly form. Perhaps his home wouldn't have fallen under the twilight cloak. Perhaps the wider kingdom would not have suffered through hours of pitch darkness. Armed with these weapons and techniques, he would never allow another Twili to attack or steal from anyone else ever again.
But how would Midna feel about this? Didn't matter. No. It did. It mattered because learning these techniques meant incurring a new wrath. She would see him learning to expel her comrades from the shadows for a swift defeat. She would watch from the distance, away from the flashes, and gather all the intel she could on Hyrule. She would see Link become a danger to her, and once that happened, she might strike first while she still could.
Once he found a lonesome space for her little meeting (in exchange for peaceful toilet breaks), he'd have to play nice. Say that learning these techniques are part of his cover. And if she saw through it? If she struck first? Well, he'd be forced to smash a nut before she could smash him.
But if it came down to that, then Link would be exposed for bringing her into the heart of Hyrule's war effort.
From there, Alexus led Link through an armoury and forge, where blacksmiths banged out luminous swords to cut through shadow cloaks and mirror shields to rebound magical attacks. She breezed through the courtyard with Link. In the entrance sector, soldiers were learning how to surround a cluster of shadowbeasts -illusions of actual shadowbeasts- and slay them simultaneously. (Link had wondered about that; Hyrule didn't have access to Midna's shadow-snare.) On the west side, soldiers were taught how to use the shimmering paint to set up camps and protect their bases.
On the east, however, was where traditional melee took place. Soldier against soldier. Wooden swords and shields clacked and crossed and clamoured and chittered. The black-haired soldier from the 'day' before twirled around a flurry of three men and their mad swings. The soldier's sweep of the leg downed the first, a swipe at the head felled the second, and a swift jab to the gut crumpled the third.
"Before we teach soldiers our advanced techniques, we ensure they have the basic foundations of swordplay." Alexus clapped twice and from unseen nook, a maid laden with the Ordonian sword and shield came running. "You arrived with a blade on your back," she said. "Better be more than show."
The maid presented the gear like a crown atop a velvet cushion. As Link swung it onto his back and finicked with the straps, Alexus hollered at the troops. "Alright, nubcakes. Line up!" Her voice boomed across the hundred-foot yard. Everyone stuffed their swords into belts and scurried into line faster than Link could whistle Epona's favourite tune.
The long-haired soldier was the last to join the line-up with a leisurely swagger. Alexus seemed the type to bark at that sort of 'sluggishness', but she didn't. She hadn't even glanced. Apparently all the slack jaws and bulging eyes Link's way were far more offensive.
"Quit your gawping. You've all seen green cloth before." Link straightened his spine and rolled back his shoulders. The tunic was more flattering that way. "You stand before the new bearer of the Triforce of Courage, Link of Ordon. Prince Fabian has welcomed him as a special case within our ranks.
"But like the rest of you lot, he's fresh meat, and if we're gonna whip him into the chosen hero we need, then we have to learn what he's made of. If you want to take him on, step forward."
And thus five did. One had to limp but had the giddiest grin on his face. Too arrogant. Another stood pigeon-toed, head-bowed, and arms fiddling behind his back. Too shy. The other two, who had been defeated in seconds, puffed out their chests with hands on their hips, shooting glares at one another. Squeezed in the middle of their crossfire, the long-haired one stood with their arms crossed and a slight sneer on their face.
Alexus gestured at the line-up. "Pick your opponent."
Anyone else would be an easy victory –most of these men hadn't held a hilt before– but beating an overconfident newbie wouldn't do much to prove Link's worth. He needed to show that he could skip this basic training and move on to Twili-specific techniques. What was the fastest way to do that? Beat the best. He might sulk out the other end with a few good bruises and his tail between his legs, or he might soar into the training he needed the most.
So Link strode up to the three recruits crowded near each other, and the chest-puffers puffed out further, and inched closer, barring the way. "Pardon me," he said to them, and their grins widened. "Could you please move aside?"
Their grins dropped like a ripened apple. With hanging heads, they scooted aside, and the black-haired warrior was left. Their scowl was gone, but their brown eyes, just visible in the slits of their helmet, still drove daggers into him. Link better not have chosen a losing battle. "Can we duel?"
They opened their mouth to answer, but Alexus's voice wedged in like a lance. "We have several more capable warriors than her." Alexus said the final word like it was goat dung upon her tongue. Any sane soul would see that this 'her' was the best warrior in this sector of the courtyard, aside from the general herself.
Link faced Alexus with hands behind his back. Her resting frown was carved deeper. Okay. Don't think about her pike-happy tendencies. Just state your piece. "With all due respect, general, I'm no novice, and I'd like to fight someone with skill."
"She's no challenge."
"Then if I feel unchallenged after our battle, I'll duel another."
The general's lips pressed into a razor-thin line. "Very well. I suppose you could use a warm-up."
Something wasn't okay about this duel. Was it the dismissal of a clearly capable swordswoman as some novice? Or was it the fact that there was no win for him? If he won, his victory would've been too easy in the eyes of the general. If he lost, it would be to a 'novice' and he'd look like a fool, forced to drill through the basics that were baked into his body. If he backed out and chose an easier, but favoured opponent, he could fail some mysterious test and be branded as a coward.
Well, the only thing he could do was win this duel and then another of Alexus's choosing. But where would that leave his opponent? No more recognised and respected than before.
"Before we battle," Link said to his opponent, "can I know your-"
"Ashei," she cut in. Her voice was just as gravelly as the general's. Was this common of Castle Town women? Link had expected something posher. Something dainty.
"Nice to meet you, Ashei. I'm-"
"Link, yeah? We all heard the general squawk your name." Ashei had a lot of nerve speaking about the general in such a callous way. Was that why she was here with the new recruits? Did it have something to do with her blistering tongue?
"Hurry up, hero," Alexus snarked. "The shadowbeasts won't wait for your leisurely chat."
The opponents strode four paces apart and turned towards each other's stance. Link readied his shield, but when he closed his hand around the cold steel, he paused. This wasn't a fair fight.
"Uh, permission to speak, general?" he asked.
Alexus scowled. "What now?"
"May I have a training sword?"
She glared at him like he had the audacity to ask for four weeks paid vacation on his first day of servitude. "No," she said pointedly.
Ashei was completely unbothered by the disparity, twirling her cross-guarded dowl as if it were a needle-pointed rapier forged just for her. Still, it was wood. Wood that would not stand up against steel.
"Let's make things interesting," Alexus said. "The first one to bleed loses."
If Rusl was here, he'd lecture Link for entering such a dishonourable duel, but what could Link do? He might have a flashy tunic, triangle, and destiny, but he was a new recruit under the towering authority of a general.
"On my mark," Alexus hollered. "One." Ashei held her sword like a baton, her feet loose. "Two." Link shifted his stance, grinding his heels into the dirt. Loose feet meant lost footing. He could beat her there. "Three!"
Ashei swooped in like a hornet. Link raised his shield. The point bounced off. Two clumsy steps in the grass. Good. She was off-balance. He slashed with the flat side of his sword, but she twirled aside.
A pole bonked his head. He wheeled around, but her black hair spun from sight.
He wasn't used to swivelling about with the weight on his arms. Not without the momentum of a swing, but she danced around him so swiftly that it was as though he was surrounded by three whirlwinds. He barely righted himself after every duck, swerve, parry, and jab before he had to fight or take the next hit. Uncapable warrior? Ha! Hyrule had a very skewed notion of capable.
"When the enemy overwhelms, fall back," Rusl said. "There is no shame in taking a moment to gain your bearings."
With the footwork of a spin attack, Link spiralled away from a stab to the neck. Ashei curved after him with a swipe, but Link threw all his strength behind his shield.
Snap.
Half of Ashei's dowl swung from a few splinters of wood. "Match," Alexus called.
"No way." Ashei broke off the useless end, then flipped her new dagger upside-down in her grip. "Not until there's blood."
Again, she rushed in, but Link had range. He thrust for her waist, if only to nick, but she shifted away and swiped for his cheek. Those splintered ends raked his lashes, but no skin was caught. Oh, she was good. Too good.
Her swift dodges and counters meant one thing: she knew a good bash would devastate her, so she kept side-stepping that scenario.
This was it, then. No more countering. No more hasty strikes. It was time to become as sturdy as a Goron.
For the next several strikes, Link hid behind his shield. He shifted his arm and feet as necessary but kept with the rhythm of her strikes. His sword stayed at his thigh. No raising it until the right moment.
As Ashei tired, the thwacks and thumps against his shield grew further apart. Soon the window would be wide enough.
Thump. Drop the shield. Thrust. The steel tip flew for her hip. The first chainmail link snapped and-
He was stung by the splinters. Link smacked his shield hand over his cheek as he stumbled past his opponent. Something wet his palm. Blood. He had lost.
"Match to the hero," Alexus called. But how? He whirled towards Ashei and there she stood, panting, with a hand under the chainmail on her hip. The tip of Link's blade had a sliver of blood.
Damn what Alexus said. If Ashei hadn't won, then it had been a draw, but he couldn't afford to protest. He was too out-of-breath and the general was too out-of-patience. She marched up to Ashei and tore her hand away from the wound. "You've made a mess of yourself, soldier."
"I've had paper cuts worse than this," Ashei fired back. The scarce blood on Link's blade agreed with her.
"General," Alexus snarled. "Do not protest my order. You will go to the infirmary. The rest of us don't tear like a godsdamn flower petal, so don't pretend to be hardy."
There was a silent stalemate before Ashei rounded the general. The hand gripping the broken wood was egg-shell white, but it was as calloused and leathered as Link's. Pale skin denoted a life of luxury, but hardened hands were typical of a farmer, a labourer, or a warrior. It was odd to see them paired together.
"Hero," Alexus called. He spun on his heel and saluted. Sweet Nayru, let his salute be decent. "You did well but you held back." No, he hadn't. "I'd like to see you really try. Let's put you up against Purlo here." The blond soldier she pointed to gulped.
"Will you put your all into this next duel?" she asked. Link nodded. "Good." Alexus jerked her head to a nearby barrel of wooden hilts. "Grab a training sword."
A/N: Ashei is a decently significant character in this fic, so she needed a good introduction. More of her relationship with Alexus will be revealed next chapter ;)
Why do you think Alexus treats her best soldier like she's incompetent?
