A/N: This chapter and last chapter actually used to be three chapters but I managed to force myself to edit out a bunch of cat-related filler. I have robbed you of a snobby Twilit cat who believes that they are the true blue-eyed beast. You're welcome.
The Light Invasion
PART II - LIFT THE LIGHT
Region by region, dungeon by dungeon, trial by trial, Link and Midna build a fragile trust.
Chapter 21 - The Meagre Resistance
As much as Link had needed a genuine break ever since the night overstayed its welcome, there were too many worries to cycle through, and no way to get them out of his head. Back in Ordon, he could always talk to Ilia, or occasionally journal, but here, he had no voice and no listening ear and no quill or paper or paw to hold them steady. Farore, he was itching to sketch something, anything. This must be an inkling of how his parents felt when they were quarantined to their home with the plague.
Wolves weren't meant to carry so much woe about the cuff rubbing their ankle, or the suffocating infinity of the twilight, or the lonely women and children in Ordon, or the men forced to fight a misguided war, or the many questions he wanted to ask Midna and Nova but couldn't.
Those were the worst, because they compounded each day with every page he turned and every whisper from passers-by on the street. Well, those in Hylian. The bilingual Twili were more common than they thought themselves to be, because whenever they wanted to gossip in a public setting, that was the language they'd switch to.
A popular topic happened to be a missing princess:
"Any news on the princess yet?"
"Zant said he cast her out."
"I think she's dead."
"I think she's a spoiled little coward. Chose to shiver under a rock rather than defend her kingdom from that tyrant. How weak she must be."
If they wanted to meet a bratty 'princess' so badly, they only needed to visit Nova's vet clinic. Though, Midna was more snap and bite than whine and moan, and she didn't look the part. Calling Midna a princess would be like declaring a skullkid a prince.
Today –or tocircum?– dread and relief mingled like blood in the water. Yester… circum, Nova had peeled away the shadows around his injured paw and, after a brief examination and heated debate with Midna, declared him 'good enough' to continue his quest.
"Guess Tenebria has waited long enough," Nova had relented.
But come 'morning', they were forbidden from leaving until Nova's final say (which had made Midna rather huffy). So here they were, waiting in her entry parlour as Link scratched his scruff a third time and Midna drummed her fingers against her folded arms. And what was Nova doing? Scurrying between clinic and house and back again.
At long last, she knelt before them. "It's dangerous to go alone." She snapped her fingers. In a flurry of specks, dozens of items smattered the floor between her knees and Link's paws. "Take these." She gestured at an uncomfortably wolfish pelt. "A parker for the cold." Then a spread of dark brown bread, cloud-white cheese, and dried fruit the colour of blood. "A few meals to last until the next stop." She jingled a small, drawstring purse that could only fit a cucco egg, "Some silver to restock." Finally, she tapped a glass vial of a deep, violet liquid. "Midnight tonic. Use sparingly, and only when you're about to be patched up." Nova had schooled Midna in the basics of dressing wounds with shadow, but it would be a crude treatment. "Drink too much of this and you're out like a candle. Understand?"
Link nodded. Their next destination, Tenebria, was one of 'great land masses' by Twilit standards. Fractured mountains and valleys where the sparse inhabitants would study the world's magic, history, write in solitude, and worship the… Link didn't know that part. Nova and Midna had forgotten to explain it to him, and like every follow-up question he had, he couldn't ask.
Midna snapped away the supplies and swapped formalities with Nova, though without much of her usual stiffness. She refused a hug but Link gladly leaned into Nova's arms. "Keep an eye on that cuffed ankle when you transform back, okay?" Link gruffed an affirmative, and Nova rubbed his back approvingly.
She shuffled back on her knees, clasped her hands, and forced a grin: one that matched the tension in her shoulders. With a deep breath, she said, "Good luck. You can do it. I know you can do it. The day won't break us!"
The day won't break us… Odd turn of phrase. It made Midna float a little lighter, with a smile tugging at her curt nod. Yet another thing for Link to ask about once he became human again, or perhaps a riddle for the ride.
With final farewells and scritches exchanged, Midna delved into Link's shadow and he turned to the front door. Nova set her palm upon it, and the door of hard light faded away. Link to step into the bustling, Twilit street.
Twili stopped, they stared, and they panned their gazes from him to Nova. Her cheeks flushed purple, and she made shooing motions. "Go on," she said in Hylian, "off you pop."
A handful of Twili shuffled to the edges of the streets, and most followed suit, creating a clear path for Link to scamper through.
He glanced over his shoulder at Nova. One last look at the tender vet before the jostling, jabbering crowd swallowed her whole.
Zelda's finishing school tutor must be tutting her from the sacred realm. Here she was, in the skin and cloth of a very unladylike warrior, wading up a slippery slope of excrements. The current sloshed against Sheik's shins. A soft solid bumped it. Their body seized, their leg slipped, but their blistered grip on the brick walls stayed strong. There was only darkness ahead. Pitch darkness. If they shouted, it might reveal how much further they had to go, but that might beckon a soldier from their post.
Sheik inched forward again, and their left fingertips met the edge of the wall. Sheik felt around until they crouched on a low-ceilinged platform of brick. The wall opposite the sewage was made of wood. There was a thin crack of warm light where the wall could slide aside, and the scent of sauteed mushrooms wafted through.
"Oh, Telma, must you cook now?" Auru teased, rather close to where Sheik hid.
"Quit your drooling. I know the palace feeds you well," the barmaid tossed back, further away by the sounds of it. "Gotta leave something for our common folk." She and Auru laughed, but a third, mellow chuckle accompanied them.
"Well, as a fellow commoner, I'm afraid that I must agree with him." This voice was low and smooth. "If you won't offer it to us, surely you'll at least give it to our guest?"
Were they referring to Sheik? Their growling stomach did a somersault. Finally, something to eat other than that rancid soup. They slid the wall aside, crawled through, and stood. "I would very much appreciate that, thank-you."
The trio stared at them, blinking. Behind the counter, a busty woman with brown skin and red braids was frozen mid-stir. Auru, meanwhile, peered over the back of his chair. There were four other chairs around the circular table, and three of them were empty. On Auru's left sat a dark-skinned man with black dreadlocks falling over a cream servant's tunic. How curious. Zelda had never encountered him on the palace staff. This must be the enigma, the healer, the man who was never drafted.
Telma smirked and placed a plated omelette on the bench. "Well, ordinarily I would welcome you with a hot meal, but food is a bit scarce at the moment." She scooped the mushrooms on top of it.
Sheik's stomach grumbled and they reached for the wallet on their belt. "Name your price?"
She snorted and swished around the bench. "You couldn't afford it, honey." If only she knew she was speaking to the wealthiest person in all of Hyrule. Telma collected the plate and gestured to the table of two. "Please, do get settled. I'll be back in a jiffy." She crossed the room, disappeared behind a wall, and trotted up a flight of stairs. Auru had assured Sheik that only allies would be in this building tonight. Telma delivering room service to some unknown patron was a prick in the promise.
Sheik loosened their nerves with a sigh, sauntered around the table, and extended a hand to Auru. "Nice to see you again."
He gave Sheik a smile and a firm shake. "Likewise. Allow me to introduce you to our little resistance. You've just met Telma, the charming tender of this bar. This is Renado." Auru gestured to the shaman and he nodded in response.
Sheik strode around to him, hand on their hip, and shook his hand as well. "Sheik, agent of the queen."
"A pleasure to meet you," he said.
"And you're the one who has been slipping the antidote to our queen?" Sheik asked. Renado nodded, but it wasn't enough. "Please repeat the instructions for dosage."
"Add one drop from the vial at each meal to enhance the potency," Renado said matter-of-factly.
With that, some of the tension in Sheik's shoulders unravelled. "Thank-you, Renado. We owe you a great debt." Two layers of training, that of the poised princess and the stone-faced warrior, was a strong defence against Zelda's urge to fall to her knees, take his hand, and sob tears of gratitude. All Sheik felt was the sting in their eyes. After spending weeks imprisoned with the man poisoning her, what a comfort it was to be around the one who had come all this way just to heal her. It was undeniable proof that not all draft dodgers were spineless, lazy cowards as Alexus might call them.
Telma came down with a plate dirtied with crumbs and dried gravy. "Has everyone been introduced?" The three nodded. "Then get settled in like the rest of us, Sheik. Pip pip!"
Sheik took a seat next to Auru and eyed the three empty chairs. As Telma took the one across from Sheik, she sighed. "I'm afraid two of our members were on the draft list, and another was a soldier already."
"Who might they be?" Sheik asked.
Telma smirked, leaned forward, and rested her chin on her laced fingers. "We all have secrets to keep, honey."
Sheik accepted it with a nod.
"How about you give us a report on the queen?" she asked.
Renado, already so postured, sat with yet more attentiveness. Of course he must be dying to know how well his antidote worked, and as much as Sheik wished to tell him that it made Zelda well enough to walk and run and climb and sleuth, any secret that Sheik divulged could, one way or another, loop back to Fabian's ear. "She's still bed-bound," Sheik said.
Renado wilted, bowing his head.
"Aw, honey." Telma lay a hand on Renado's shoulder, but he brushed it off and drew himself upright with a breath.
"I can try something different, more potent. Anything to get her back on her feet."
"Absolutely not," Sheik said. Overdosage of anti-poisons usually had the opposite effect, and Sheik couldn't allow that to come back to Zelda. "You have made her head much clearer, and her will much stronger. Her recovery may be slow, but it's steady. Keep on as you have, and she will be well again soon."
Auru, Telma, and Renado exchanged odd glances; the kind that Zelda, as a politician, knew well. They had discussed this mysterious Sheik, and all possible signs of untrustworthiness. If Sheik were to win over these allies, then Sheik needed to do or say something in clear service of Zelda.
"I made a report of some recent findings to the queen that she asked I share with you all," they said. "It's about the chosen hero."
Auru furrowed his brow. "Is he not in the realm of shadows with the scout team?"
"Yes, he is in the twilight realm. No, he does not have the company of the scout team. He deserted them with the help of a shadowbeast hiding in his shade."
Renado and Telma looked to Auru, and his bewildered gaze flitted between them. "The prince didn't inform the council of this."
"The remaining scout team reported to him and the general privately," Sheik followed. "To quote him exactly, he said 'Bring him here. I trust that you will excel on this next mission with the utmost discretion,' and then he asked the general to escort them out."
Auru sighed and massaged his forehead. "Of course he did. How ruthless of him."
Telma gazed at one of the empty chairs. "And it explains why a certain someone didn't pop by with this little nugget of gossip."
"Regardless," Sheik said, "there are currently three people on their way to arrest this allegedly chosen hero. Lieutenants Larkson, and one who just goes by Ashei."
With the last name, it was as if a pebble had dropped. Telma toyed with a braid as Auru rubbed his chin. Seemed like the lady soldier was the standout threat.
"What course of action would the queen propose?" Auru asked.
"It is too early to tell if he is of noble cause," Sheik began. "He is a threat to the prince's agenda, but it is unclear if he is a threat to the kingdom as well. We believe he should be intercepted before he reaches the prince."
"Leave that to us, honey," Telma said.
To them? A barmaid, a thinly-trusted councillor in Fabian's eyes, and a healer who was bound to his post in the palace kitchens? "I should like to know your plan," Sheik pushed.
"I'm afraid we cannot tell you," said Auru.
"Need I remind you that I am the agent of the queen. She relies on me as her only informant."
All lips around the table remained pursed. When Zelda was active as queen, no one blatantly withheld information from her. To receive it was a simple matter of asking. Not here. Not as some unknown agent who these resistance members were right to suspect as a spy.
Sheik drew a deep breath. "Lord Auru, is there any way I can verify my relationship to the queen?"
"With all due respect, honey, that won't make a difference," Telma said solemnly. "This conspiracy isn't some run-of-the-mill assassination attempt. This is between Queen Zelda and her husband. Emotions are messy and wild and…" She gazed forlornly at Renado, but he was more concerned with tracing his knuckles. "We can't risk her swinging from hating him to forgiving him and divulging our secrets. What a pickle that would put us in."
Forgive him? Forgive him? What on Farore's green earth could possibly possess Zelda to forgive him?
Alas, pushing the issue would likely spark more suspicion. There was nothing to be done. For now.
"If it helps," said Renado, "not even I know what they have in mind." That did help. Sometimes it was safer for certain matters to be confidential. Zelda and thus Sheik needed to get comfortable with extending a little blind trust, just as her subjects did for her.
"Very well," Sheik relented. "I will continue to gather intel on my end and report it to you."
"You know when and where to find us," Telma said with a grin. "Next time, I'll have the scent box handy."
Sheik's face burned. How could they forget about the stench of raw sewage?!
One uncomfortable kargarok ride later, Link and Midna landed on an island the size of Ordon Spring. It floated a handspan away from the brilliant gold barrier between light and twilight. Beyond it, a ghostly mountain range loomed. To see the tops, Link needed to crane his head so far that he almost fell on his back. Back in Ordon, when he had fantasised about mountaineering, he had only thought of the moment when he became master of the peak. In the present, at the base, these mountains were the master of him.
But he was no ant. Soon, in a single leap, he would no longer be a wolf incapable of climbing a ladder. He would be the human who could run up nine feet walls and scale the tree towering over Fado's house in less than a minute. He was the chosen hero, wasn't he? Therefore, there should be no cliff he could not conquer.
Midna floated beside him. "Ready?"
Link nodded.
"You better be, because when you're on the other side, you'll have to pull me through."
Pull her through? Couldn't she just ride in his shadow like usual? He pawed at it so she knew his thought.
She sighed and rubbed her forearm. "It doesn't work like that. It's like those painted lines at Castle Town. If I try to travel by shadow, I'll be expelled. That's why a light-dweller needs to bring me through. If you were in the light trying to enter the twilight, I, a Twili, would need to pull you through."
But then wouldn't she be exposed to the light? He needed to be quick then. No hesitating. No delaying. He crouched low, crunched his hinds, and sprung forth, bounding across the stone until he reached the edge and leapt for the glassy barrier of honey-gold light.
When he hurtled through, his skin was stripped away, and he was stinging and raw and scrambled and mangled until his boots pounded solid ground and he stumbled to his hands and knees. Panting. Head throbbing. A chill in the air nipped at the points of his ears. He flexed his left hand, and his wrist stung. Shame that had to remain sore after ten circums of wearing that gods-awful cuff.
Pushing the pain aside, he rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and stretched his arms, legs, hips, and back. This must be what returning home after a journey in parts unknown felt like: his true body was like a familiar space with a thin layer of dust.
On his own two legs, he stood at the base of the mountain range, no longer hidden behind a hazy curtain. The rock itself was layered with shades of grey, like the stroke of a giant's paintbrush. As for the rock face, it was as if the giant had chiselled away at it with no vision or goal or intention: simply for the joy of chiselling itself. Elegant curves and points and angles paved a path to the snow-capped peak. Miles high. Consuming the sky. And Link would have to climb it all with his bare hands.
Could he do it? Was it possible? If only he still had Ashei around to give him some pointers. (How was she, anyway?)
If he kept dwelling in self-doubt, Midna would give him an earful for 'keeping her waiting'. He turned around, and through the smokey orange barrier, her faded figure hovered. It was as if she was in her shadow form already, aside from the glow of her cyan tattoos peaking through. (Those markings were another thing he had been burning to ask about for the past ten circums.)
He paced towards the barrier until his toes almost hung off the edge of the landmass. A few small pebbles and flecks of dirt fell into the white sliver of nothingness between him and the twilight. What effect would plunging his arm through have? A partial transformation? Maybe if he was quick, he wouldn't have to worry.
Deep breath, ready the hand, and go! Plunging through was like dipping his arm into boiling water with the thickness of honey. He hissed through clenched teeth as his bones and muscles distorted beneath bubbling skin, but her hair seized it. He tugged, and her hand-shaped ponytail broke into the light. Another tug, and he let go as she soared through, the shadows swallowing her physical form the moment she was free of his grasp.
For a moment she floated, curled up, eye squeezed shut, and hands running up and down her arms as if she was trying to wring out the pain.
He cleared his throat. His voice, after being locked away for so long, came out with a croak. "Are you oka–"
"The monastery is atop that cliff," she cut in, as if he had said nothing at all.
He nodded and she dropped into his shadow. There were many questions he was burning to ask, but they would have to wait a little longer. With any luck, she'd answer them before he reached the top of this mountain.
By the goddesses, that was a very, very tall mountain.
His wrist throbbed again.
A/N: Gengle actually appeared in the draft of this chapter as a poor, starving cat that Sheik opened a can of wet food for, but I ultimately chose to cut it out as it was filler (and I don't think Hyrule has invented cans yet). Yes, there was a lot of cat-related filler.
