Lymira closed the clasp of her pendant at the base of her neck, letting the vibrant cerulean stone rest above the neckline of her dress, also a stunning blue. The gown was delivered by Princess Zelda a few hours ago, along with an army of maids to help Lymira dress and arrange her hair and a wardrobe's worth of fancy gowns.
As someone who seldom wore gowns, she chose a simple, elegant one that draped over her shoulders. Her black curls were pinned atop her head, making her neck feel strangely light and vulnerable. With great reluctance, she'd decided to stash her sword and daggers in her room and not under the skirt.
Tonight was a social occasion, and the weaponry she required was significantly less metallic.
She could handle the hoity toity nobles and courtiers. Her plan was to ignore and enjoy her evening. The impending social interaction that was causing spiders of anxiety to crawl over her skin was having to see Dark again. They hadn't spoken since his shocking revelation on top of Death Mountain a few days ago.
And Lymira had no idea how to feel about it. Relieved? Angry? Cheated, somehow?
Should she take comfort in the knowledge that the man who'd single-handedly destroyed her people was dead? Be annoyed over losing her chance at exacting justice herself?
Letting out a loud groan, Lymira gave her reflection a final check and punched her useless thoughts to the back of her mind. There would be time to agonize over what to do—now that her life's primary mission was unnecessary—later. Tonight, she wanted to have fun.
Downstairs in the receiving hall, Silas waited for her. As she descended the stairs, she took great pleasure in seeing the look on his face when he turned and saw her.
He practically leapt forward to offer his arm. "I feel underdressed now," he joked, grinning broadly.
Lymira swept her gaze over his light blue, high-collared jacket, shiny belt, fitted white pants and polished boots. His hair had been smoothed back from his forehead, and the top half of his face was covered by white velvet mask decorated with tiny silver leaves.
"You clean up nice, yourself, farm boy."
Silas's grin never faltered. "Shall we?" He sketched courtly bow that was only a bit over the top. With a chuckle, she looped her arm though his and followed him into the adjacent ballroom.
Hyrule Castle's ballroom was a vision of blue and gold, from the oversize chandeliers lighting the polished dance floor to the navy banners and drapes artfully hanging over the windows and arches.
Around the perimeter were wide arches supported by carved columns, featuring a pretty design of leaves and flowers. On the west side of the room tables were set with rich blue cloths and laden with a feast, with servants in elegant uniforms milling around ready to serve guests. Across from the entryway was a wall of arched windows with a view of the castle gardens, speckled with sparkling lights.
"It's a bit much," Lymira remarked, motioning to the ceiling and the elaborate chandeliers.
Silas chuckled. "A bit," he agreed.
Lymira readjusted her hold on his beefy arm, trying to settle between a huge bicep and iron forearm. "I think you can quit taking that potion for muscle enhancements, by the way," she added. "You're big enough now."
A deep belly laugh reverberated through Silas as he threw his head back. "It's all natural," he told her, then winked, "But thank you."
"Hmmph."
Lymira and Silas blended into the crowd of lords, ladies, officials and guests. As expected, they were dressed extravagantly in bright colours and matching, detailed masks. Lymira suspected Princess Zelda had sent Silas's outfit as well, in order to match hers. Which begged the question of how the Hylian princess had known Lymira would choose this particular dress.
A lively waltz was struck up by the musicians on the far side of the room, and couples began to swarm the dance floor spinning and weaving a tapestry of moving colour. She held out her palm to Silas and arched a brow.
"Shall we?"
He accepted, escorting her onto the floor. "I'm not much of a dancer," he warned her, belying his confident strides.
"Neither am I," she confessed, as he placed one hand on her waist and held her other lightly in his.
They began to sway with the music, their steps not as precise as their fellow dancers. Still, she didn't complain if he stepped on the hem of her dress and he didn't crack a wince when she trod on his toes. With a grin, he abandoned the flowing steps of the waltz and spun Lymira outwards, winding her back in and catching her in his arms before dramatically dipping her. Laughing, she followed his lead, the two of them spinning and sliding over the floor in increasing speed and chaos with no regard for the proper movements, breathless with exertion.
Lymira swung her arm over Silas's broad shoulders, lifting her feet off the ground. He swept her up, spinning her in a tight circle. Laughing madly, she extended her arms out, letting the air whoosh past her and her hair fly loose from its pins.
The courtiers around them backed off, giving them a wide berth. Lymira ignored the ones who stared in alarm or disapproval, enjoying the kaleidoscope of lights whirling past her.
"I'm getting dizzy!" she warned him, who slowed and set her down with a chuckle. "I didn't say stop," she snickered when he put her back on her feet.
His blue eyes were bright with humour, his grin wide. "Want to go again?"
She touched her fingertips to her cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating there. "I think a drink first."
"I'll get you one."
"Don't be silly," she scoffed. "We'll go together. I can get my own drink."
Gallantly extending his arm, Silas let her loop her hand over his elbow and they pushed through the crowd. They'd reached the refreshments table and were accepting the drinks handed to them by the servants when Lymira felt someone's stare.
Peeking over her shoulder, she saw a tall man in a midnight blue coat and black pants, with a beautiful matching dark blue mask leaning against a column. Seeing her notice him, he lifted his own drink, a half-smile curving his mouth.
With an answering smile of her own, Lymira marched over, recognizing the eyes watching her from underneath the mask. He looked back into hers, not flinching or averting his gaze as she drew close. Showing him the same consideration, Lymira looked right into those deep, crimson irises. When apprehension or awkwardness tried to take over her, she tended to plough ahead anyway.
"Where's your date?" she asked. "Surely you didn't drive her away this quickly?"
Dark laughed, and the low, husky sound made her stomach do a somersault. "No. Elena's talking to a fellow scientist she met. She was fascinated with his work."
Silas joined them, and Dark's attention momentarily lifted from her face to greet his friend.
"Enjoying yourself at your first royal ball?"
Silas's grin was all for Lymira. "Immensely."
Dark spun the stem of his glass around in his fingers. Lymira traced the shape of his large hands and long fingers with her eyes. "I quite enjoyed your dance," he admitted with a smirk.
Silas laughed this time, a cheerful boom of sound that one couldn't help but be charmed by. "It's all the rage in Ordon," he joked. "What's the point of dancing if you're not having fun, I say."
"Agreed," Lymira said, raising her glass for a toast.
The three of them bumped their glasses together, enjoying a few sips of the fizzy liquid inside.
"Any chance I'll get to see how a northerner dances?" she asked Dark, plucking the glass from his fingers and passing it to her date to hold. Her own glass she drained and set on one of the serving tables.
His gaze flicked down to her extended hand. Dark slid his hand beneath hers, letting her fingertips curl around his palm.
"It may not be as exciting," he said with a wry look at Silas.
"I make up for that by being exciting myself," Lymira replied, her painted lips curling in a wicked grin.
Dark chuckled, grasping her hand while they walked back to the ballroom floor. The few times she'd elicited a laugh from him, it had been a short exhalation or muted rumble at most. As though expressing any humour wasn't allowed or his lungs didn't function properly. Lymira glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, calculating what it would take to snatch a real, honest laugh out of him. Maybe some dancing would loosen him up a bit. He was wound far too tight, in her opinion.
Dark spun to face her, resting his right hand at her waist while keeping hold of her other one. He held her a gentleman's distance away, but the heat of his palms scorched her even through her dress. She'd noticed he seemed to run a bit hotter than usual. Did the rest of him feel like a walking furnace? Lymira trailed her gaze over the thick fabric of his fancy coat, counting each of the shiny silver buttons from the collar to below the slim, black belt.
"What do you think of the castle so far?"
His question distracted her. She looked around at their extravagant surroundings. "It's ostentatious, isn't it?" she remarked, then caught his smile. "Sorry, that was rude, I guess," she said, chagrined.
He shrugged. "It's not my castle. And it is ostentatious."
Silence fell over them, so when Dark opened his mouth next, Lymira decided to cut him off.
"If you're about to say something about what you told me the other night, don't bother."
Dark shrugged. "I'm sure it's brought up some complicated feelings."
Lym snorted. "Complicated's one word."
When the song finished, Silas came over to steal Dark away for a private conversation, interrupting whatever Dark's reply might have been. Lymira wandered the ballroom, rebuffing offers to dance from a few noblemen eager to flirt with the beautiful foreign ambassador. She was trying some samplings of the food when Silas returned, a pensive look on his face. It changed to a smile when he saw she was watching him.
"Did you and Dark have a nice talk?" she asked teasingly, though she was curious.
Rather than playfully respond as she expected, he grew more serious.
"Want to walk in the garden?" he asked.
Surprised, but curious to see the beautiful courtyard garden, decorated with all sorts of enchanting lights she'd glimpsed through the giant windows, Lymira agreed and took his arm.
~oOo~
Dark fiddled with his collar for the tenth time, feeling strangled in the fitted clothes and noble finery he was forced to wear. It had been years since he'd attended a royal ball. It was less fun than he remembered, and the party hadn't even started yet.
The hall swirled with nobles, chatting and gossiping while they waited for the festivities to begin. He waited near the entrance, not only to remain visible to Elena when she arrived, but also to stay away from the clumps of socialites, either eager to pull him into uncomfortable conversations or snub him entirely.
Elena joined him in the reception hall accompanied by her father; an elderly nobleman with a mass of unruly grey hair and a slight limp to his walk. He greeted Dark with a polite smile.
"Lord Baxtry." Dark bowed, taken aback when the lord inclined his head in response.
"A pleasure to see you again," the old man said with a kind smile. He patted Dark's shoulder with one gnarled hand. Turning to his daughter, he squeezed her hand before releasing her. "Thank you, my dear. I'll leave you with your suitor."
As he passed, he shot Dark a twinkle-eyed wink. Dark tried to smile back in an equally conspiratorial way, knowing the old man's hopes were likely for naught. Elena's first love was science.
True to form, Elena wore a long-sleeved, high-necked gown of forest green velvet, the bodice adorned with pearls and peridot. It was one of the plainer dresses in the room, but Elena didn't care. She carried herself with the bearing and confidence of a proper Hyrulean lady.
Watching her father depart, walking with the use of a cane now instead of her arm, Elena sighed. "I told him he should stay with us for the evening," she grumbled. "He insists he can care for himself."
Rightly guessing the lord's intentions, Dark replied diplomatically: "He likely wants to catch up with friends."
Across the room, Lord Baxtry had joined a cluster of older men talking—or arguing—animatedly with one another. Elena sighed and turned to Dark, her formal hairstyle wobbling dangerously. Her long black hair was pinned to her head and fell in loose hoops to her shoulders, secured by pearl pins to match her dress.
"You look uncomfortable," she stated bluntly.
Suppressing a chuckle, Dark agreed. "I am. If I could, I would wear a full set of armour to this occasion."
The enormous double doors of the castle's ballroom swung open, and the crowd began to trickle in. Dark and Elena hung back, waiting for the crush of people to pass. Walking in side by side, she cast a look around the partygoers while Dark did a scan of all the exits from the room out of habit. He checked the shadowy corners of the vaulted ceiling next, his powers peeling back the layers so anything—or anyone—hidden there would be revealed. He didn't really expect to find an assassin lurking somewhere at the party, but it didn't hurt to check.
Elena wasn't interested in dancing, and she soon spotted a group of her fellow scientists from the royal academy, eagerly joining their conversation. Dark listened politely for a while, bringing Elena a drink that she held without sipping, waving the glass precariously when emphasizing her point in the developing argument.
Excusing himself, Dark retreated from the dance floor. When he caught sight of Silas and Lymira, swinging wildly around the room with huge smiles on their faces, he couldn't help a grin.
Silas deserved to enjoy himself for a night, and Dark was glad to see his friend take advantage of a social situation to let loose a bit. Their routine lives on the farm had never lent itself to much other than work.
As they wandered his way, Dark couldn't help but think Lymira and Silas were a good match. Not wanting to get in the middle of their night, Dark stayed where he was. Knowing he was caught when Lymira's sharp, strange eyes locked on him, he relented and accepted when she asked him to dance.
As he guided her around the floor, Dark could feel the yawning chasm between them. The avoidance of the past few days. It perturbed him how it bothered him, how he hated it.
When their idle talk lulled, Dark decided to address the topic he'd been avoiding the last few days, hoping to repair any damage he'd done.
"If you're about to say something about what you told me the other night, don't bother."
Dark shrugged. "I'm sure it's brought up some complicated feelings," he said, mentally groaning at his lame answer.
Lym snorted, confirming his thoughts. "Complicated's one word."
Dark looked down at her, but her gaze was turned away. His heart ached for her. He knew full well the news of Alatar's death wouldn't bring her the comfort she wanted and deserved. His death didn't bring her family, her tribe, back.
She'd deserved to know, and yet Dark experienced a twinge of guilt for telling her and unearthing old feelings of grief. Before he could muster more meager words of attempted comfort, Silas was at his shoulder.
"Can we talk?"
Dark released Lymira, turning to his friend with a nod. He thanked her for the dance, giving her his best courtly bow, which caused an amused grin to tug at her cheek.
"You and Lymira look happy," Dark said, following Silas to a less crowded corner of the ballroom.
Silas snuck a glance over his shoulder where Lymira walked off the dance floor with lithe grace, turning more than a few interested heads. His gaze landed on Dark with scrutiny.
"Are you having an enjoyable time?" the Ordonian asked him, eyeing him with too much introspection.
Dark shrugged. "Fine."
"Where's Elena?"
"Socializing. Did you pull me away for a reason or just to interrogate me?" Dark asked impatiently.
Silas took in a slow breath and blew it out. "I thought we should talk about Lymira."
Dark took his chance to steal a look, glad she wasn't Hylian and was well out of earshot. He could guess what Silas wanted to talk about, and he'd been prepared for it. He didn't hesitate in answering, ignoring the twinge of regret that slipped through.
"You have my blessing," he said to Silas.
Silas' brows rose. "Just like that?"
Dark forced his gaze back on his friend's. He'd confided in Silas about the dragon hunter takedown, the rescue of the dragon egg and all the rest, including the tense conversation he'd shared with Lymira on top of Death Mountain. Always dependable, Silas had been sympathetic and advised him to let Lymira break the silent standoff. As usual, he'd been right. Their conversation minutes ago hadn't been as strained or stilted as he expected. Although Dark was sure there were still complex feelings for her to sort through. Hell, he was still dealing with his feelings about Alatar's death and his escape, years later.
"I want you to be happy," Dark told Silas now, meeting his eyes in a rare moment to emphasize his genuineness. "I told Lymira I couldn't return her feelings, and I meant it. It's clear the two of you get along. I'm the last person to stand in your way."
Dark meant everything he'd said, but his deeper feelings must have coloured his words. Silas gave him a look he couldn't decipher, like he was trying to pry open Dark's heart and see inside. Keeping his other feelings walled away, he made sure Silas only saw encouragement.
Finally, Silas smiled, the wide, heart-stopping grin the Ordonian country girls liked to swoon over. He squeezed Dark's shoulder briefly. "You deserve to be happy, too, Dark," he said with a hint of admonishment. "I want you to know that."
He smiled back, but he didn't touch Silas. "I know. Go back to your evening. I'll come see you later."
Silas nodded and dropped his hand. Ignoring the warmth that lingered on his shoulder, Dark turned away.
With Elena busy chatting with her colleagues, he intended to find Link. None of the other party guests were particularly interesting in talking to him, but then again, he wasn't keen on their company either.
Dressed in his formal army uniform, Link was easy to spot. As Dark approached, he realized his brother wasn't alone. Speaking with him was an older man in a plum coat and grey pants, his fingers heavy with rings and his gaze weighty with the air of disdain Dark associated with some of Hyrule's oldest and richest families. His grey hair had been pulled back into a club at the base of his neck, his beard neatly trimmed.
Noticing Dark, Link's expression betrayed a bit of relief. "Dark! Perfect timing. Allow me to introduce—"
"Our mother's brother," Dark finished, giving the man the barest of nods. His eyebrows rose in slight surprise. "You share our mother's eyes," Dark explained.
"Yes," Link said, puzzled. "This is our uncle, Lord Magnus Aster."
Dark extended his hand for a greeting but noticed with a mental roll of his eyes that Maguns pretended not to notice.
"A pleasure to meet you," he said, his attention barely blipping over Dark before returning to Link.
"Nice to meet you," Dark replied, letting a little sarcasm leak into his voice. "Funny we haven't been introduced before now. Link has been a member of the army for the last eight years, and a regular face around the castle."
Link shot him a half-censuring, half-alarmed look. Dark didn't care if he offended their uncle.
"I have only recently learned of our familial connection," Magnus said smoothly, giving Link a flicker of a smile. "Link was kind enough to send me a letter a few months ago, and I decided tonight would be an excellent time to make his acquaintance."
Hiding his scowl, Dark said nothing. He'd suspected some of their mother's noble family was still alive but had never bothered to seek out the people who had disowned his mother for daring to fall in love with a part-Sheikah commoner.
He couldn't say he was pleased to see him now.
"I hope you will come visit me at my estate," Magnus was saying now. "Your brother, as well, of course," he added, with a glance at Dark. "It would be my honour to host you."
"Thank you for the invitation, uncle," Link replied. "I will consider it."
Don't bother, Dark thought. Magnus bowed his head and excused himself, walking off after one last genial smile for Link.
"Hard to believe we're related to him," Dark muttered.
Link frowned at him. "He's the only family we have left. We should at least try to be civil towards him."
"You be civil," Dark shot back. "I'll continue treating him like he has things to apologize for."
Link sighed. "Will you come with me tomorrow at least?"
"To his 'estate'?" Dark grimaced. "Fine, but I'm not going to act like he's honouring us by welcoming us into his life."
His brother gave him a withering look. "He's the only family we have left, Dark. We could at least try to get to know one another."
Dark wished Link's eternal optimism was well-founded, but he didn't see a warm familial relationship with Magnus in their future. A stab of insecurity struck him by surprise. Was he not enough family for Link? His brother would be getting married soon. Starting his own family. Stealing a glance at Link, he felt the knot of worry tighten in his chest.
"Let's go outside," Link muttered, his expression abruptly darkening.
"Why?"
His brother grimaced. "Some of the nobles from earlier are heading this way, and I'd rather not be here."
Dark followed Link to the other side of the ballroom without comment.
~oOo~
Moving swiftly through the revelers, the crush of warm bodies and perfumed skin, Silas and Lymira walked into the courtyard. The cool winter air was a welcome refreshment. The courtyard was serene, focused on a larger, central fountain depicting the three Goddesses, their arms upraised to the heavens.
Farther out, Lymira could see rows of snow-covered hedges and shrubs, trimmed precisely, leading others out strolling along scenic garden paths illuminated with coloured lanterns. Smaller fountains dotted the four corners of the garden, each one guarded by a different stone fairy, unearthly beautiful and benevolent.
Surrounding the entire courtyard was the thick stone wall, protected tonight by Hyrule's guards, no more than shadowy sentinels from this distance. Even the stone wall, while mostly functional, was carved and chiseled with pretty designs, just like the fountains. One thing Lymira had come to appreciate about Hyrule Castle was its lovely architecture. It was a fortress, and a seat of power foremost, but one thing the Hylians seemed to love was ambience.
Silas steered them towards one of the smaller fountains and sat down on its edge. "It feels nice to get out of there for a bit," he sighed, rolling his head on his shoulders to stretch his neck. "I feel suffocated with so many people."
Lymira remained standing, eyeing him shrewdly. "Did you and Dark have a nice conversation?"
Instead of changing the subject again or ignoring the question, he smiled this time. "You're very astute."
A smile tugged at her lips. "Yes. And direct, I'm told. I'm guessing Dark told you all about our…day," she finished, unsure how to phrase it.
Silas watched her. "He told me of your brave encounter with the dragon hunter on Death Mountain, and that he'd delivered some personal and…upsetting news to you. Nothing more."
Lymira wasn't sure about brave. She'd only done what any decent person would have. That is to say: chased an armed and dangerous dragon hunter up an active volcano and confronted him in a dragon's lava-filled lair. Still, she was a little perplexed at Dark's discretion.
"He doesn't need to keep my secrets," she said. "I assume you know all about—" she jabbed her fingers towards her eyes. A chuckle escaped Silas that he turned into a cough.
"Yes," he said. "I know all about his curse. Which I suppose you do as well?"
Lym nodded. "The man who cursed him is the same person responsible for the death of my entire tribe."
Silas recovered from his shock quickly. "I see…so Dark told you…"
"That he's dead?" It was weirdly hard to force the words out. Wasn't it a good thing? "Yeah, he told me."
Silas's gaze softened in sympathy. "I'm sorry you lost your family."
Lymira felt a wave of grief wash over her. Like tides, time dulled and smoothed the edges of hurt, loss and anger. But the salt still stung, even so many years after.
"I guess you understand what I'm feeling, huh?" she asked, remembering the sad tale of his own family's deaths.
Silas met her eyes, understanding and compassion there. He patted the edge of the fountain and she finally sat, releasing a pent-up breath.
"Lymira."
She turned towards him, caught off guard by his proximity, the intensity of his cerulean gaze. Had she sat so close to him?
"This might be the wrong time to say this, but I wanted to tell you how much I enjoy your company, and I'd…like to keep seeing you."
She blinked. "Are you asking me to date you?"
Silas smiled. "Well, I'd like to take you on a proper date, if you're agreeable."
Very agreeable, she thought, but then another thought prodded the back of her mind.
"What about Dark?" she asked.
It was his turn to blink. "What about him?"
"Don't you…" she trailed off, her thoughts coming to a sudden stop. Had she misread things?
"I'll say yes to a date," she told him abruptly. His grin widened to dazzling. "But Silas, I don't know how long I'll even be in Hyrule. With everything Dark told me…" She sighed, deciding to go all in.
"I came here as an ambassador, and that job will be done in a month or two, but I also came here to find out whose ass I needed to kick for killing my clan. And well, there's no joy in beating a corpse."
Silas chuckled at her morbidity. "I understand. I know our futures are both…uncertain right now. But I wouldn't want to miss a chance to see you again."
Touched by his sweet words—which was quite unlike her—she deflected her feelings. "Flatterer," she accused.
Silas laughed again, bending his head nearer to hers. His gaze traveled over her face as he leaned down, then flickered down to her mouth. She leaned in as well, the warmth of his closeness chasing away the chill in the air.
Then screams ripped through the quiet garden.
~oOo~
Link and Dark walked outside into the chilly air, past the glass-paned doors leading to a low balcony. They descended the stone steps, waiting until a group of partygoers passed to pick up their conversation.
"What happened?"
Link sighed again. "I forgot some of their names when they came up to pay their respects to Zelda. I started stumbling over my words, and they started laughing." He frowned. "Apparently I have no manners as well as a lack of grace under pressure."
Dark turned his chuckle into a snort. "Link," he said. "Who cares what they think?"
"I know you hate the nobility, Dark, but what they think matters. If I'm to be the future king—"
"You're going to be a great king."
"Not if I can't attend a simple ball without making a fool of myself!" He groaned, dropping onto a stone bench facing the outer courtyard's massive stone fountain. "I didn't deserve to stand up there with her."
Dark crossed his arms, staring down at his brother. Seeing his expression, Link waved a hand. "I know you have things to say. Go ahead."
"Link, I don't know Zelda as well as you, but I don't think she's marrying you just for your looks. And again, who cares what the nobles think? They're not the ones ruling the country." He sat down on the bench beside him, racking his brains for something more comforting to say. "You have Hyrule's best interests at heart. More than anyone else. And besides, Zelda has been preparing to rule her entire life. Your job is to help her, isn't it?"
A strange shadow flickered over Link's face. "I'm trying to. I don't—"
An odd twhip noise preceded a blast of pain in Dark's shoulder. Link's expression changed in an instant from worried to alert. Dark's vision went woozy, his left arm going limp and weak. Link's hand flew to his belt, palming a knife.
"Dark!"
The numb feeling was spreading to his other arm. Link tackled him to the ground, where he landed with a grunt. Why didn't his limbs work?
Another twhip, and something slammed into the bench, ripping out a chunk of stone. Someone in the garden screamed.
"Get down!" Link shouted.
Dark tried to move his fingers, growling when they were unresponsive. "The hell is happening?!" he demanded.
"Don't move!" Link's face appeared in his field of vision. "We're being shot at!"
Another bolt hit the fountain's edge over their heads, showering them with stone dust. Link must have dragged them behind it as cover. The mysterious projectile landed near Dark's paralyzed hand. A wicked-looking arrow with a glowing, purple crystalline tip. Magic?
Dark couldn't see what had hit him, but he could feel the paralyzing numbness creeping its ways down his legs. Blackness edged his sight, threatening to swallow him. It gave him an idea.
Soldiers had flooded the courtyard, taking cover behind hedges or columns. Someone had given Link his bow, and he was now firing back at their would-be assassin.
Dark closed his eyes. His body was currently useless, but his magic was still accessible. It jumped to his aid, flooding his veins and counteracting whatever poison had infected him. Pulling on the thin membrane between the world of Light and Shadow, Dark let it fall over him, allowing his metaphysical spirit to enter the realm of Shadow and take form.
Freed from the paralytic poison and hovering in Shadow, Dark could see the courtyard as no one else could. The familiar weightlessness of his body's absence allowed him to fly upwards and see the courtyard from a bird's eye view.
Link was a bright form, crouched by the indistinct fountain. Water in the Shadow realm appeared as bluish-white vapour, twisting and twining in the air. The grey shapes of Hylian soldiers dotted the courtyard, unimportant. The assassin stood out here like a beacon—pulsing with malicious intent.
Dark raced towards him; he wouldn't get away. This next part was tricky and had taken him years of practice to get right. It came in damned handy, though.
Reaching back through the veil, Dark seized the assassin's ankles and yanked hard. They fell to the ground with a distinctly feminine yelp. A woman assassin, then.
Dark released his hold on Shadow, slamming back into his body with painful force. The numbness returned, as well as the drowsiness.
The soldiers were mobilizing, catching up to the fallen assassin. Link knelt next to him, his expression concerned.
"Dark, can you hear me?"
He tried to speak, but the words came out mumbled. Sighing, he tried to sit up, but a wave of pain radiated from his shoulder.
"Dark!"
He slumped against the fountain, dizziness assailing him. Black spots popped across his vision, and then he saw nothing.