Caution:
This chapter contains gore and violence.
Midna could only stare in absent horror at the sight of her own mother taking the form of a gruesome monster from her nightmares. The two shadow beasts shambled at her, but Midna could barely move. Her mind screamed at her legs to carry her far away but they were unresponsive. Finally, just before the former Queen could grasp her, Midna spun around and sprinted away as fast as she could.
As she raced through the halls, the Twilight Princess wondered how this could be possible. How could Zant be behind this? Midna slowed to a halt when she passed by Burak's chambers. The smell of burnt flesh and decay was rank, but Midna needed to save her friends if she could. She stepped into the room and over the body of Burak's husband, Armo. His body lay where it fell, half of his skull caved in and his body mangled beyond conceivable repair.
Armo was a member of the Twilian Guard, charged with the protection of the Twilight Realm's lower classes. He and Midna were good friends, him having been the one to find her after her initial stint with the Mirror of Twilight. Armo was a good man, kind and courteous, and his skill with the javelin was commendable. He gave his life to protect Burak, and Midna could only hope it was not in vain.
Fighting down the vomit, Midna continued forward until she came into the bedroom. The stench was worse in there and made her eyes water, but she pressed on. Finally, she found the balcony nearby, where a puddle of dark blood pooled. Midna stopped at the threshold, unsure of what else she was going to find. She forced herself to step forward but immediately felt something drip into her hair.
It felt warm and when Midna dabbed her finger in the substance, she paled at the realization that it was fresh blood. With a sickening coldness in her stomach, Midna gazed up and promptly screamed at the sight of Burak hanging above the doorway with her throat slit.
That was the last she could take, and so Midna immediately spewed the contents of her stomach over the balcony railing, tears welling down her pale blue cheeks. The strength gone from her body, Midna collapsed on a bloodless spot on the balcony and wept. She stayed like that for ten minutes, and perhaps the Powers That Be arranged to have her undisturbed in her mourning.
This can't be happening, Midna thought. This is all just a nightmare, Burak is just fine and dandy, and I'm sound asleep in my bed. She glanced at the bloody puddle and her will broke. She felt numb as she leaned against the balcony railing, wishing to the gods above and below that this was not happening.
The Twilian's mind sent her back to a certain memory from long ago, when she was barely seven years old…
She had just finished her daily studies in magic and history, and decided to visit the stables in the rustic area that was nearer to the village than the palace. The uma grazed casually in the charcoal-colored fields, and she marveled at the sight. The uma were four-legged creatures, all with leathery grey skin and midnight black manes of smoke. Their elongated skulls bewildered the young Twilight Princess as she had only seen the round heads of her fellow Twilians. Their eyes ranged in color from cool teal to fiery red, but all were gentle creatures when treated with the proper respect and care.
Midna, however, did not know of the proper care, and so she ran up to one uma and not-too-gently poked it in the thigh. The uma, spooked at the sudden contact, reared up and neighed, swinging its forelegs wildly for protection. The innocently devious child stumbled back but her foot slipped on a foul-smelling substance, and the girl found herself entrenched in a thick pile of brown goo. She stared blankly at the uma, who had calmed down and went on its merry way to graze with others of its kind. Midna did not know how to react, until she made the mistake of inhaling through her nose. She gagged at the stench and tried to pull herself out of the muck, but all she did was sink in more.
She heard someone begin to giggle, and turned sharply to find a servant girl standing near the stable, covering her mouth and trying to still her laughter. She looked to about ten or twelve years old, definitely older than Midna at the least. Midna huffed and crossed her arms over her filthy chest, staring daggers at the servant's insolence.
"When you're quite finished laughing at me," the young princess said, "you can help me out of this mudhole, like a good servant."
The girl nodded and made her way over to Midna, still chuckling along the way. She offered her hand and prepared to haul her superior out of the muck, but was instead pulled into the muck by the princess. The two girls stared at each other before both broke out into fits of childish laughter.
"Unbefitting of royalty, wouldn't you say?" The servant girl quipped as she helped Midna out of the pile of goo. Stifling another giggle, the servant motioned to the stables. "Come, let's get you cleaned up."
Midna shrugged and followed behind the servant, who seemed to lack both the boring droll of kiss-ups and the annoying bite of those who viewed Midna less than favorably. This servant was very casual in her methods, and Midna found her presence oddly comforting.
"What's your name?" The Twilight Princess asked, watching the servant reach for a nearby bucket of water. Midna noticed that her robes were slightly more elegant than typical servants, with finer cloth and an interesting stone hair clip that held her fiery orange hair in a bun. Of course, Midna was merely guessing, considering the state of their clothes.
The servant bowed her head slightly and answered, "Burak," as she led the princess over to a large basin and helped her inside. Midna was accustomed to having others bathe her and so made little protest when Burak moved to remove her clothing. The princess shivered in her bare skin but kept silent as Burak gently dabbed at her forehead with a wet cloth.
"What are you doing out here, Princess Midna?" Burak asked as she dipped the cloth into the water bucket.
The Twilight Princess giggled and said, "Getting washed by a servant, of course!" She shrugged innocently at Burak's half-glare. "I wanted to see the uma. Mommy— Mother told me about them today and I was curious."
Burak chuckled at the princess' slip of the tongue. "Did she happen to warn you against running up to one and poking it?"
"No, I assumed those animals would know better. I am the princess, after all."
"With all due respect," Burak began slowly, "titles and royalty mean nothing to animals and foreigners. Beneath all of this filth, even without your label as princess, you're just Midna."
The Twilight Princess rolled her eyes and glanced down at the basin. "What's this here for, anyway? Did you predict that I would get covered in yucky stuff?"
Burak bit her lip trying not to laugh. "This is a wash basin for the uma when they frolic around in their own dung."
Midna's eyes widened as she stuttered out, "You mean… this is…" At Burak's nod, Midna snatched the cloth up, buried her face in it, and promptly screamed her seven-year-old lungs out.
Once she regained control of herself, Midna used some minor spells to lower Burak's body and laid her beside her husband, cleaning up both corpses as best she could. She used her magic to levitate them onto their bed, and after pulling up the covers and offering a prayer to her gods, the Twilight Princess set fire to the bed sheets, making sure to confine the flames to the bed and its occupants. As she left the room, Midna bowed her head and whispered, "Goodbye, Burak. Goodbye, Armo."
Her legs just barely managed to carry her away from the funeral pyre and into the hallway, and she was sure she would collapse again right there, if it were not for the scuffling sound of heavy limbs on cold stone. Every instinct screeched at Midna to run directly away from her incoming death and toward salvation, but her thoughts were clouded with the cold realization that she was alone.
Midna's friends and family, all gone, sent into a black abyss, lost forever. Her heart beat against her ribcage as she turned and faced the three shadow beasts lurking down the corridor. Too much was taken from Midna in too little time, and she felt herself slipping from the brink of control. Her home lay in bloody ruins, her closest friends were murdered in their own room, her parents were dead or transformed into monsters, and Midna felt something inside her consciousness snap.
With a murderous cry of fury, the Twilian summoned up the remainder of her magical energy and charged at the three demons in the hall. She willed the power to form into a black blade, and promptly impaled the closest shadow beast in its putrid shoulder. Oily blood dribbled from the wound as Midna shoved the sword deeper into the creature, piercing the one behind it in its mask.
Her hand stained black with the blood of nightmares, the Twilight Princess tried to attack the survivor, but it gave a paralyzing scream that seemed to revitalize its downed companions. Midna realized that as long as one remained, these hordes of creatures were invincible. For the second time in her life, Midna felt sweat run down her forehead and cheeks. She knew the touch of fear, and her body and mind were soaked in it. She raised her arm to strike again but one of the shadow beasts caught her wrist and squeezed, nearly crushing the bones. With a desperate yell, the Twilian dropped her sword and caught it with her free hand, then severed her captor's arm and scampered away, only to freeze in terror as the monster's arm regenerated in a splurge of malevolent red scripture.
With all the strength she could muster, Midna sped down the battle-worn hallways, taking care not to trip over abandoned weapons and mutilated bodies. She could not stop herself from recognizing the frozen faces of people she knew, all caught in the cold shadow of Death. She wove through the corridor, down the staircase, and came to the outer courtyard just behind the palace. There, Midna found something that sent tremors through her skin.
Seven shadow beasts, all holding members of the Twilian Council, bowed to a figure with its back to Midna. The figure faced the great expanse of the Twilian landscape, which now lay in dust and ruin, and raised a heavily sleeved arm. An angry red sphere inlaid with unknown scripture bloomed over the balcony and shot jolts of black lightning into the clouds far above.
In the distance, Midna could see with frightening clarity that the surrounding villages and minor cities were burning, and she could see several breeds of monsters attacking citizens and nobles alike. Midna could find no Twilian assisting the destruction, only twisted forms and panicked innocents. Children were hewn down like wheat, soldiers crumpled like damp parchment, and blood ran through the streets like malevolent red rivers. Raging fires crawled over heaps of corpses and ravaged homes and structures. This was no mere invasion; this was a full-out apocalypse.
The figure turned and faced Midna, revealing a strange helmet with bloated eyes and a shell where the mouth should be. When she made eye contact, an unnatural shiver ran through her spine. The cloak the masked assailant wore was familiar, with its glowing lines and shoulder pauldrons…
"Zant!" cried the Twilight Princess. She wasted no time and sent her last morsel of Twilian energy straight at him. It flew with speed over the heads of the shadow beasts and connected right between the helmet's two eyes. Zant's head snapped back, almost to the point of breaking his neck.
Damn, no magic left, Midna thought as she clutched her burning side, her lungs heavy and her blood cold, when Zant leaned his head back down, looking no worse for wear. Realizing this was a battle she could not win, Midna turned and headed for the left causeway. Zant was there waiting for her.
"Princess." His voice sent chills over Midna's skin, and he held a hand out to her. "By now, you must realize that you have no hope." He stepped forward, his leg snapping in place before him. Instinct ordered Midna to step back, but he was quicker and snatched her wrist.
"Release me at once!" she demanded, forcing the tremor in her throat away. "Your Ruler orders you—"
"I have no ruler." He did not raise his voice but the tone was enough to silence Midna. Zant traced a finger over her jaw despite her shudders of revulsion. "Not yet, anyway."
Hearing the implication, Midna glared daggers at him and spat at the ridiculous helmet. "If you think I would ever consent to someone like you…" The threat died in her throat when an icy hot pain shot through her captured wrist. She glanced down and almost screamed when she saw her skin charred and blistered. Her wrist was being engulfed by a viscous black sludge that crawled with terrifying life up her arm, burning through her flesh and searing her bones.
"If you will not lay with me, you will cower before me!" Zant forced her backwards and motioned almost casually at her. Pain shot up Midna's arm and into her brain, unbalancing her feet and sending her crashing to the floor.
"Stand strong, Princess!" called a Council member. Midna winced at the loud crack that echoed through her ears, and she knew even without looking that the brave Council member's neck was broken.
Calling on any strength she had left, the Twilight Princess forced herself up from the cold stone, but every muscle was screaming at her to stop moving. She ignored the burning in her muscles and stood shakily on her feet, glaring at Zant with such fury that her blood boiled. With a toothy smirk, Midna spat at his feet and threw herself off the balcony.
More agony shook over her skin and bones, feeling as if she were being compressed into a box too small for her. When she landed, Midna was surprised at how far the fall was, even considering the distance. Pain continued to plague her every movement as she hoisted herself up, but stopped at the sight of her hands.
They were blackened but smooth and unburnt, her damaged wrist was no longer sore, and her fingers glowed the same teal hue as the scripture on her forearms, which now had black growths resembling spikes. Midna held in her panic long enough to find a splintered breastplate nearby and see if there were any cuts or scrapes on her face.
What she saw was far worse than she imagined. In her reflection, where there should have been a beautiful Twilian woman, was a pathetically small imp with oversized hips and a shadow over the top half of her face. Her ears, once concealed under her hair and hood, now pointed out and were shaded black with more glowing Twilian scripture engraved into the skin. A single fang protruding from the left side of her mouth pierced her lower lip, drawing a small trickle of dark red blood. Her eyes, once sleek and angled, were enlarged and almond shaped. Black splotches of shadow silk remained over her body, covering her sensitive areas, leaving white skin around her neck, down her middle, over her belly, and along her right leg. Her fiery orange hair, once majestically framed around her face and neck, was now hanging limply in a ponytail and was spiked at the front, leaving her shadowed forehead bare for all to see. Midna, the Twilight Princess, screamed until her high-pitched voice died down and her throat was raw and coarse.
Using what remained of her strength, Midna dragged herself across the seemingly endless span of ground between where she landed and where the portal to Hyrule was. I need to escape, she thought, I need to find a way to save them…
"Save who?" whispered a cold, dark voice that seemed to come from the depths of the princess' very soul.
Midna froze and squeezed her eyes shut. She realized that without any magic left to contain it, the Fused Shadow was free to do as it pleased. No wonder I couldn't hear it until just now…
"We can aid you, Twilight Princess…" Midna looked up and found that she was very close to the portal, and that the Fused Shadow was floating before her, its one stone eye piercing into her soul. "Be not afraid, child… We can help you save those you love… wield Us and We will grant you power beyond anything you can dream…" Midna felt drawn to the Fused Shadow, to the idea of saving her realm. "We can grant you… Revenge…"
A demonic grin slowly spread across Midna's face, her eyes twitching and flaring with unholy fire. The helmet grew in size, stretching its stone surface to fit the contours of Midna's altered skull. As it descended and blocked all sight from her left eye, the Twilight Princess seethed with hatred. Zant caused all of this destruction, and now, with the Fused Shadow, Midna could personally see to his punishment.
"Yes…" she whispered through her grin. She felt energy pulse through her as she stepped onto the platform that activated the portal. "Yes…" She squeezed her hands into fists as her body broke into Twili particles. "YES!"
"This bread is really good," I said between bites. Ilia smiled at me and had some as well, but she seemed occupied with something. "Something on your mind?" That doesn't involve kissing a guy you just met?
She shook her head and replied, "Just curious. What is your land called?"
"America."
"Uh-mare-ick-uh… That sounds so familiar to me."
I froze and almost told her it was impossible, but I recalled what the Golden Goddesses told me when they visited me that night:
"Our universe exists in reality, as does any other story you have ever heard, seen, or even thought of. The same is true of all other universes."
That would mean that there are stories of a far off land called America…
"Yes, I remember now," Ilia said. "My mother used to read me to sleep with stories of heroes and warriors. I enjoyed one called 'The Revolutionary War,' about a group of colonies fighting its country for independence."
I frowned and said, "Huh, that was almost 250 years ago. Are there any stories after that one?"
Ilia scratched at her neck and then shook her head.
I shrugged in response. "I guess it makes sense though. The stories about Albion are longer than 500 years apart."
Ilia perked up and held my hands in excitement. "You've read Fable? It's one of my favorites!" I raised an eyebrow at our shared hands, and she nervously pulled hers away. She chuckled and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Ilia sighed and smiled whimsically as she closed her eyes. "I always thought they were just fantasies, daydreams to keep my dreams wondrous and adventurous."
I nodded and patted her shoulder. "I felt the same way about Hyrule. I played—" I cleared my throat before I could blurt that little piece of info out, "played games with my brothers about the Hero of Time. In America, that story is probably the most popular of all the ones about Hyrule. There've been very fierce debates over which story is the best."
Ilia tilted her head and leaned back against a crate. "I prefer the Legend of the Wind Waker. I've always wanted to go to the sea or Lake Hylia at the least."
Ah, so the split timelines still interact. I'll have to ask the Goddesses about this when I get back.
"I'm more of a Majora's Mask kind of guy."
Ilia opened one eye in surprise and asked, "Why? It's so dark and depressing." She shuddered and rubbed her arms. "Creepy as well. A mask that can control people?"
"Not much better than an eleven year old kid planting his sword in the bad guy's skull."
Ilia looked about to object, but she nodded instead. "Fair enough." She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. "What is America like? Surely, it must have grown after the Revolutionary War."
"It's fine, I guess. Tools and equipment improved us and we them. There are metal carriages that need no horse, buildings that seem to scrape against the sky, and these," I held up my phone, "to help keep track of stuff. We Americans are skilled at forgetting things."
Ilia giggled and took another piece of bread. "What about you?" I tensed up but she didn't seem to notice. "What's your life like?"
"Well… where to begin? I was born in the state of Texas, but because my father was in the army, our family moved around a lot. When he retired, we settled down in Virginia, just a few miles south of the country's capitol. There's really not much else to say." She seemed confused, but I was not in the mood to go over the details about countries and states and all that. Didn't her father tutor her about the ways of the world?
"Did you not have friends to play with?"
"Not until we moved to Georgia for a time, but by then, I was thirteen years old and didn't know anyone that well. Besides, I lost interest in people when…" I trailed off at the pain of that memory.
"When what?"
"Nothing," I spat out.
"Oh." Ilia seemed disappointed but there were some things that I was not willing to tell a perfect stranger. Maybe, in a month or so, I'd tell her. In the meantime, I perked up when I remembered something.
"Can you tell me why Rusl seems uncomfortable talking about this place?" I gestured around us at the house. "It seems like this ought to be someone's home, but it looks like no one's used it for years."
Ilia paled but nodded slowly. "It is not an easy story to tell, you understand." I nodded. "It was twelve years ago…"
I was almost six years old, and my friend Link and I were playing in a wooded area just beyond the great bridge connecting Ordon Province with Faron Woods. He was an orphan, his mother passed away after giving birth to him and his father was slain in a great battle. We were playing a game of heroes, with him as the dashing and brave knight and I the helpless but beautiful princess who needed to be rescued.
"O Hero! Brave, handsome Hero! Save me from this monster!" I play-cried, kneeling dramatically beneath a withered tree branch. Link was a mute, for the trauma of losing his father rendered him unable to speak in words, but he spoke with his body and eyes. He raised a small knife that I suspect he took from Rusl without his knowing and charged forward. Link broke the branch off and stood above it valiantly, the foe defeated and the princess saved.
My hero helped me to my feet and went to his knees. He kissed my hand and silently offered his servitude and honor for my love. Link was such a sweet boy, so full of love and trust. We laughed as we started on our way home, ignorant in our innocence. A great wolf's howl, cruel and malicious, blared out from the valley behind us, and when we turned, we found a knight armored in strange dark green steel lined with black. Blocking his face was a similarly colored helmet, but it held no slits for his eyes to see.
The blind warrior raised a great and terrible sword that glowed in an eerie blue light. My feet finally obeyed me, and I fled down the great bridge. When I crossed the threshold, I turned to see if Link was alright, but I found instead that he remained where he was, across the bridge and against the warrior.
I heard my father and others coming from the village, but the knight seemed interested in Link and Link alone. As if he could sense the knight's intentions, Link spun around and cut the ropes that bound the bridge to both sides of the chasm. I felt a thick arm wrap around me but I fought against it.
"I have to help Link!" I cried, the tears already stinging at my eyes. I looked back one last time at my best friend, hoping to the Goddesses above that he be spared. My wish was… not granted. I saw Link charge at the blind knight, but my eyes were then covered by my father's hand. I struggled to escape his grip but by the time he released me, we were already in our home. I begged him to let me go and save Link, but he firmly denied me.
I never saw Link again.
Ilia wiped tears from her cheeks as she finished, "It was after my sixteenth birthday when Rusl and my father explained the truth. The knight killed Link and then vanished in an orb of red and gold light. Rusl described the knight as a phantom created for one purpose and one only: The death of Link." She took a deep breath and hugged her knees. "This house was planned to be given to Link when he was old enough to take care of himself. Since that day, we've used it sparingly out of respect." Ilia paused and looked around. "It's late." She stood up and smiled kindly at me, but her tears still stained her cheeks. I watched her quietly leave the house, leaving me alone in the dimming lantern light.
"It is late," I agreed aloud. I pulled the lantern up and blew out the flame. "It is far too late."