She followed the royals into the halls, passing courtiers and nobles until they reached a large set of wooden doors. Zelda pushed them open without a hint of hesitation and strode in, leading Irene right to a set of stairs. They climbed up to the mezzanine and she directed Irene to a massive bookcase covered in dust. "This is all of Hyrule's history right here. What are you looking for, Irene?"
"I'm not sure," she said, ripping one book off and flipping through it. "I just--I keep remembering something my Gram always said. After my parents died, I--it was like I couldn't use my magic. Or . . . like it was weaker, somehow. It was like no matter how much I tried, or what I did, it just wouldn't work. I thought it was broken--that I had broken it. The last thing they left me--and I had ruined it."
Irene shook her head at herself and continued flipping. "And one day my Gram sat me down and just . . . helped me get it back. We sat there for hours, until I could get a spark again, or a whiff of fresh air. I was so happy to have it back--and then she told me that there was so much more to my magic than I thought, and that one day I'd realize that."
"I never realized what she meant," Irene muttered, "until now. Maybe."
"And what is that?" Link asked, returning with another stack of books.
"Hazen told me about other magic users--how they existed in other worlds, other Hyrules. But after we learned about the timeline split, he thought maybe those magic users were from other timelines entirely. So if I can find something about them in one of these books, then maybe I can find some clue about why the timeline split."
"You think those magic users were the cause of the split?" Zelda demanded.
Irene slowed down, raised her head. "I don't know," she said honestly. "Magic is dangerous. It's volatile and it can get out of control easily. Maybe . . . maybe they lost control," she said softly.
Zelda's eyes were bright. "Then let's start studying. Any ideas on where to begin?"
"I'm starting in my own world, maybe try earlier?"
Zelda muttered something and grabbed a book on Twilight.
For a while there was just the sound of flipping paper and occasional grumble. But the longer Irene read, as the hours dragged by, the more she realized she wasn't getting anywhere.
All of these stories say the witches came from 'somewhere', Irene thought, flipping a page. But where was that? And how did they get there?
She sighed through her nose and refocused. 'Not much is known about the witches or where they came from, but one such instance suggests they came from the Dark World, or something like it.'
"The Dark World?" Irene muttered. "That's new."
In the Rebellion of 529, some of these witches were captured by the enemy. Most did not break, but one witch, by the name of Analise Frey, was reported to have revealed information on the witches' origin. Most of it was a garbled mess. However, one phrase stood out.
"A darkness more beautiful and dangerous than the shadow of the sun," Irene muttered. "What does that mean?"
"What did you say?"
Irene jumped and whirled. Behind her stood a tall man that looked like a mirror image of Link, but with dark skin, white hair and red eyes. He raised a brow when Irene didn't answer.
"Dark! What are you doing here?"
Accurate name, Irene thought, relaxing when he passed to respond to Link's question. Seriously, that gave me the shivers.
"I came to see where Midna went. Zhen has his lessons with Ruso and Lulu in twenty minutes."
"Midna is here?"
Irene left them to talk and instead headed back into the bookshelves to look for more books. "Something to do with shadow," she muttered. "Really specific."
She rounded the corner and glanced at the window. On the couch below it, a woman slept soundly, half in light, half in shadow. Her orange hair flamed like fire in the sunlight. Tucked into her side was a boy around Hazen's age, if she had to guess, with a shock of white hair.
With a jolt Irene realized--this must be Zhen. Saval's twin brother. And the woman . . . was her mother.
The Queen of Twilight.
Who was now awake.
Irene stood frozen, wavering on one foot while Midna opened her eyes, amber glittering like precious gems in the sun. Zhen woke beside her, blinking. He had his father's dark complexion, stark against his mother's pale white skin.
Voices rounded the corner while Irene stood there, growing closer till Zelda rounded the corner. "I didn't even know she was here."
"Zhen wanted somewhere to study so she brought him some hours ago," Dark replied. "Now I have a question."
He turned to Irene. "What was it you said just now? That phrase, about darkness?"
"A darkness more beautiful and dangerous than the shadow of the sun," Zelda answered, watching Irene closely. "Why? What does it mean?"
Dark tore his gaze from Irene and faced his brother's wife. "It's a common phrase in Twilight. Old, actually pretty ancient, but you still find it carved in some of the oldest parts of Duskwatch, and it's all over the palace."
Duskwatch. Twilight.
A darkness more beautiful--
Irene's breath left her in the smallest of sighs, and even that was enough for everyone's attention. "Irene?"
"It's Twilight," she murmured, then louder. "It's Twilight. Where the witches came from." She whipped to Zelda for a moment before rushing back to the table and seizing Zelda's book. She flipped through slowly, looking for any sign of witches, and Zelda came over.
"I found this bit here. I was about to tell you when Dark came in."
She flipped to a page crammed full of text in tiny letters, so Irene had to squint to read it. "'The mages of Twilight were said to be extremely powerful, which made them perfect targets for Ganondorf's coup d'etat. However, this period is a mere fragment of time compared to the many centuries the Twilight mages inhabited the Twilight Realm.'"
Midna, Dark and Zhen had crowded the table to hear. "'Long before Ganondorf was banished to the Twilight Realm for his crimes in the Light World, the Twilight people had lived in peace. They were known as mages who practiced a particular brand of magic. Some called it dark magic, others simply a purer, more powerful form of light magic. Others still insisted it was a totally new kind of magic.'"
Irene sat back, oddly dissatisfied. "So that's it, then. The Twili were the ones who caused the split with this new magic?"
"That can't be right," Midna interjected. Her amber eyes were narrowed, staring at the passages in the book. "The Twili, then known as the Dark Interlopers, ended up in the Twilight Realm as a result of a failed attempt to steal the Triforce and take over the Sacred Realm, using a weapon called the Fused Shadow. They were punished and banished to a pocket of space, which, over time, became known as the Twilight Realm. Even the Fused Shadow doesn't have the kind of power to tear apart time itself."
"What if it was the goddesses, when they opened the pocket?" Zelda asked. "Could they do that?"
"Would they have known the consequences, though?" Link countered.
"Maybe not, but even if they did, they could have chosen a different punishment for the Interlopers," Dark answered. "There was no reason to go that far if they knew what would happen to the timestream."
"Or maybe it wasn't the Goddesses at all," Irene said, her voice cutting through the growing debate like a hot knife. They all turned to look at her.
"Maybe the Interlopers opened that rift themselves," she continued. "When they realized they wouldn't win the war, they ripped open the fabric of space and time. They may not have realized what they'd done until it was too late."
"But the Fused Shadow isn't that powerful--" Zelda began.
"One part, maybe," Midna said suddenly. She met the empress's wide eyes. "We only ever had one part--only heard legends about the power of one piece. The Interlopers had all of them. Could you imagine that kind of power?"
"And who's to say it was just the Fused Shadows?" Irene added. "Who's to say they didn't have other powers? My power, for instance?"
Now Zelda's eyes had gained an edge of steel. "Are you saying the Interlopers were witches?"
"Think about it," Irene insisted. "They became known as the Twili, who then left the Twilight Realm to come to my Hyrule. They became witches--no, they were witches, or mages, or whatever you want to call them."
"If they went from Ancient Hyrule to Twilight, and then to your Hyrule, then how did they get to Ancient Hyrule in the first place?" Link asked suddenly. "Were they always there, or did they jump ship like before?"
There was a short moment of silence. Then everyone was rushing to the bookshelves, except for Midna, Dark and Zhen, at least. Irene could hear the Queen of Twilight telling her son to go to his lessons with his father. Irene was surprised; she'd honestly forgotten the boy was even there, he was so quiet.
Then Midna was back, and the search was on.
By the time they'd found something, it was late.
A courtier had rushed in at one point, handing Zelda a folded clump of papers. She'd taken them with a tired smile and rifled through them quickly before answering Link's quiet question. They'd sat back, Zelda rubbing her face, before Midna had muttered in Irene's ear.
"They're reports," she'd murmured, voice so soft Irene barely heard it. "Every time the Doors flare up in activity, Purah and Robbie send a report to Zelda. They've been going crazy recently, out of nowhere."
"What do you mean, out of nowhere?"
"They operated just fine a few weeks ago. Then, all of a sudden, they went dead. Not even a flicker of power. And then shortly after you arrived, they flared up every few hours or so."
Midna had slipped her a look, one that clearly said Irene was somehow involved in it, and she couldn't find it in herself to disagree. It was probably true, after all.
Irene doubled down on her book now, half-eaten by the couch she sat in, staring at the words but not seeing them. She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open--but she couldn't sleep. She had to be strong. Zelda, Link Midna and Dark were all pouring all their energy into this. She had to, as well.
But Goddesses, I am so tired, she thought, and her eyelids traitorously began drooping again. She fought to keep them open, but it was a losing battle--
"I've got something!"
Adrenaline flooded her body, sending her scrambling to escape the couch. She rushed over to where Dark read on the couch, squinting at the book with everyone else, leaning in to hear what he was reciting.
"It's an account by the Hero who defeated the Calamity. The first time around," he added. So not the one we met, Irene thought, feeling guilty for some reason.
"'The people of Hyrule were hard to convince, but none more so than the Zonai. Even now, they remain in their villages, unwilling to come to peace talks or even the festival this past moon. All the tribes were invited. The Rito, as usual, degraded the Zonai for not attending. I myself wish they would at least humor the king and princess, but I understand one thing more than the Rito, at least.'"
"'The Zonai are a very curious people. Secretive and reclusive, they hardly ever come out of their villages, far to the north, and they are almost never even spoken of. They came quite literally out of nowhere--just appeared in the Northern Mountains one day and took up residence near the Delphian Highlands. Since then, that area has become . . . rather less traveled.'"
"Just appeared out of nowhere, huh?" Zelda muttered. "I'll bet."
"You think these Zonai are the future Interlopers?" Irene asked, her heart racing. Neither Zelda nor Link answered for a long moment. Then Link sighed through his nose.
"No," he said. "The Age of Calamity came after the Twilight Era. And as far as I know, their ruins don't have much by way of evidence of where they came from or where they went. It's clear they just vanished one day, leaving all their civilizations behind."
"That's awfully convenient," Midna muttered. "Does it have a year for when they disappeared?"
"Hmmm," Link muttered. "No, he--I've got nothing. You?" he asked Zelda quietly.
Zelda stared into empty space for a second, then shook her head. "I don't know, Zelda's talking about carbon dating, I--" She shrugged, a helpless expression on her face.
Irene stared for a minute, trying to decide why the empress had just spoken of herself in third person, but she was quickly brought to task.
"Irene, is there any kind of magic you can do to help us?" Dark asked.
"I--what?"
"He wants to know if you can somehow find more information by using your magic on these books," Midna clarified, which made absolutely nothing clearer.
"Um." Irene wavered, looking at her hands helplessly. "I--I suppose I could try? I'm not sure what I'm doing, though. I've never used it like this."
"Just do your best, Irene," Zelda said, nodding supportively.
But what if my best isn't good enough? Irene worried. What if my best can't help you?
Her Gram's voice came back to her, as it always did when she needed it. Your magic is so much more than you know. Irene sucked in a deep breath, watching through half-lidded eyes as the royalty around her dragged the table into the small seating area, watched as they arranged the books on the table's surface, pages facing up.
Just breathe. The magic is there. All you have to do is use it.
Healing, elements, battle, it doesn't matter. It is more than you know.
Just try.
Irene took a last breath, then raised her hands, palms facing up. She closed her eyes, imagining the words she needed, the information in those books, somewhere.
They were somewhere in here, in the pages coated in dust, in the ink dried over thousands of years. It was here--all she had to do was reach out and take it.
She wasn't aware of the wind blowing through the room, or the pages fluttering wildly. She saw not the queens and kings but words rising into the air, blending and merging until they weren't words at all, but scenes, playing out like a memory.
She saw a wide expanse of fields, the cold green of impending winter, the wind blowing across them harsh and freezing. She saw a group of people, in colored robes and crooked hats wave their hands over one field, watching as it bloomed in flowers of every color. She watched one press his hands to a woman's face, in a torchlit room lined with furs, and saw the wrinkles fade away to smooth skin.
She watched them point to a distant mountain, watching as it was cleaved in two, and she watched as they came upon a village wreathed in flame. She saw them back away from an unseen shape, only its warping shadow visible on the ground, a spiked horror.
Then the scenes changed. Now she watched them wave a hand, cutting open the air before them and step through. She watched them travel from one home to another, from that land of power and magic to one of shadows and beautiful, dangerous darkness, and then to a familiar landscape, the castle pointing to the sky like the proud talons of a great beast--and all the while, she watched the group of witches grow smaller with each and every jump.
Finally, as if as an afterthought, the scene changed one last time.
Instead of her home, Irene now saw a different group, yet she knew they were witches through the hats on their heads and color in their black robes. And she watched as they pored over books and tomes, rushing from table to table before it cut once more. Those same witches stood in the center of a broken stone monument, their hands weaving an opening in the air once more. Except this time, Irene could see inside the hole.
It was black, and yet filled with color, like how she imagined space to look. But instead of a void, three white lines stretched off into the distance, breaking off here and there, but continuing on heedlessly. The witches stared at the lines, and then at each other--and with a wave of their hands, wove those lines into one.
The moment that split was stitched back together, the witches vanished, and Irene felt the past slipping away, so she made a grab for it, and was rewarded with one last image.
The witches, her people, stood in a valley, at the base of a massive mountain, confused and frightened. As they looked around, the mountain let out a shuddering roar, and from beneath its stone rose a creature neither the witches nor Irene had ever seen. Glowing in blue light, carved of a strange brown stone, it let out another roar--
--and it all vanished with a shrill scream of wind.
Zelda brushed the witch's hair from her face, her shoulders rising and falling in a sigh.
"How is she?"
Link came to stand beside the bed, where Zelda sat. "Fast asleep," Zelda said. "That spell took her out."
This time, Link joined her with his own sigh. "I've never seen magic like that," he murmured. "Never even heard of it. And her origins--"
He broke off, shaking his head. Zelda didn't say anything, prompting Link to glance at her. "Do you believe it?"
"I do," Zelda said quietly, watching Irene's face. It was calm, the way it only ever was when she slept. When she was awake, it was filled with uncertainty and fear--a familiar expression. "I believe she may be the key to all this."
"How so?"
"Those visions didn't come out of nowhere, and they made sense, if one stops to think about them. They showed the witches' history, their path through time, and how they repaired it."
Zelda looked up at Link. "They fixed the timeline. Literally sewed it back together. If they could do that, who knows what else they could do? What she could do?"
She looked back at Irene's face. Link followed her gaze, his own blue eyes narrowed with thought. "You think she can fix the Doors?"
His voice was quiet. Zelda drew on her power, just a touch, and brought her hand to Irene's temple. Immediately, the witch began glowing in white light, her skin almost transparent with it. Zelda let her power go, and Irene's glow faded slowly, sinking back into her body.
"I think she can do more," Zelda said. "I think she can do much, much more."
She stood, brushing off her uniform. "But not yet. First, she must train."
Irene woke to the closing of a door.
She sat up, slowly because her body was thrumming with pain, and looked around blearily. She was in her room, that much was clear. Something felt different, though. She felt different.
Abruptly the memory of last night came back, and she lifted her hands shakily to her face. The flying words, molding into images, into memory, into history, and what she saw--
Her people. Traveling through time, healing injuries so grave the person should have been dead already, reversing age, sewing the timelines back together. How was it possible? Were those really her people--the witches? Could they truly have that power--could she? Did she?
It was so much. She could hardly process it, yet she wanted more. She wanted to know it all--how they could cut open space like that, with just a wave of their hands. How they escaped into the pocket that would become the Twilight Realm, how they staged an attack on the Sacred Realm--and why. What could they have wanted it for? Was it truly a bid for power, or was it something else? If she could just have another look, just another glimpse, maybe she could learn more--
No, she told herself, shutting her eyes. I have to focus on what's important. I have to find a way to--
To what? Irene hunched her shoulders, suddenly at a loss. What should she do now? They learned how the timeline was repaired. So . . . now what?
My original purpose here was to help Zelda find Hazen, she thought. So I should continue with that. Fix the Doors. Easy.
"Yeah, right," she muttered. "I don't even know what's wrong with them."
She rose from the bed and poured herself some water, trying to soothe her headache. She felt like she'd been beaten with a baton. That magic had taken a much greater toll than she'd even realized.
Her Gram had been right, at least. There was much more to her magic than she'd ever known. How had she done that? She'd never used a spell like that before--never known she could even do that. Maybe if she'd realized earlier, she could have saved everyone before--
A knock came at her door, breaking Irene out of her thoughts. She set the water down and headed to the door, wrapping her robe around herself. The elegance and wealth of this place still threw her off, but it wasn't unwelcome. At least not anymore.
She opened the door and found Zelda waiting. "Your Majesty," Irene said, a little surprised. "Come in."
Zelda nodded and stepped inside. She wasn't wearing her uniform jacket this time, just a white tank. Her hair was tied into its usual knot. "How are you feeling, Irene?"
Irene shifted a little. "Sore."
Zelda nodded again, almost to herself. "I expected that. Do you think you're up for a little exercise?"
"E-exercise?"
"Training, to be exact," Zelda clarified, in a tone that said 'no' would be ill-received. Irene cleared her throat and tried for a smile. "When should I be ready?"
Zelda returned the smile. "I'll be in the west courtyard. The guards will show you the way there."
She swept from the room, but at the door, she turned back to look at Irene. Her eyes were softer as she said, "I understand how you feel. There is a lot to discuss. But right now, we all need to be strong. I need you to be strong. Can you do that, Irene?"
How could she even say no? Irene swallowed and met the queen's gaze. "Yes, Your Majesty."
She inclined her head, and when she raised it, Zelda was gone.
"Training, huh," Irene murmured, turning away from the closed door. "What does one wear to training?"
She went through the dresser, rifling through silken blouses and loose pants, but it wasn't long before another knock sounded.
When she answered the door this time, it was an unfamiliar man. He handed a package to her and bowed, then shut the door gently. Bewildered, Irene carried the package to her bed and unwrapped it. A pile of dark blue, white, and violet fabric sat within the wrapper, and a note sat on top.
Something tells me long, flowing robes like those we saw aren't fit for fighting.
Unexpectedly, Irene snorted. She remembered something Zelda had mentioned once, while in the Sacred Grove.
"Trust me, dresses are not conducive to life-threatening situations. Take it from me."
It brought a smile to Irene's face. She put the note aside and lifted the fabrics, holding them up. They seemed to be made of a cloth she'd never seen before. It looked and felt like silk, but it was a bit heavier, almost like wool or cotton. She pulled it on, almost fumbling with the long, black cloak, but she got it on and went to stand before the mirror. A soft breath escaped her.
It seemed instead of a new robe, Zelda had commissioned Irene a whole new outfit. Black boots to her knees and dark blue shorts with gold stripes up the sides, like Zelda's own commander uniform. They rose up underneath a sort of blazer jacket with two rows of buttons up the front, their gold color standing out against the blue fabric. The sleeves went to her wrists and buttoned there. A cloak hung to her feet and clasped with the Hylian Wingcrest in gold, and on the back of it, thread stitched in the form of--
Irene pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. It was the symbol she'd seen in the visions--that of the white witches. A rising phoenix in white thread, its wings fading into the Wingcrest surrounding it.
The other pieces, still sitting on the bed, included a dagger and holster. Irene tied that around her leg for easy access, and several pouches full of powders, vials, and other materials. When she looked at herself in the mirror again, she had to bite her lip.
It was easily the most beautiful piece of clothing Irene had ever worn, her dresses be damned. Zelda had nailed Irene's personal, subtle preferences while also creating a piece that would identify her as someone with power. She felt--she felt important wearing this. Like she could do something.
It was almost silly that a simple outfit could have that effect, but she'd seen how the castle's inhabitants reacted depending on what Zelda herself wore. In her gowns, she was the empress, ruler of the Hylian Empire. But when she put on her uniform, she was suddenly someone else. She was a warrior queen, the one who had killed Ganondorf and ended the war. It was interesting to watch, to say the least.
Irene took a breath, her hair brushed and tied into a loose knot, almost embarrassed to wonder if people would look at her differently too. As someone who was here to help, instead of follow after the Empress like a lost puppy.
She met her gaze in the mirror and breathed in deep. New clothes or not, she would make a difference.
She turned from the mirror and went to open the door, stepping out into the hall. The guards came to attention around her, then split to let someone through, someone Irene knew immediately without her speaking a word.
She bit her lip. "Lady Tetra," she said, hoping she didn't sound strangled.
Tetra--Tessen's mother--merely looked at her once. "Let's go," she said, curtly, and Irene followed after her meekly.
They walked in silence for several minutes, and Irene was beginning to think they'd stay that way until the courtyard when Tetra spoke.
"What did he look like?"
Irene glanced at her. Tetra's gaze was fixed on the hall ahead, her sapphire earrings swinging with every step. "My son, how did he look?" she asked, her voice dangerously, waveringly soft.
Oh. "He . . . he seemed all right," Irene hedged, trying to remember what Tessen had actually looked like. "I only saw him for a second before we were split up, but . . ."
It was such a lame answer. But what could she say? That Tessen was perfectly fine? She couldn't very well lie--didn't want to lie--but she also wanted to comfort this mother.
Tetra herself didn't seem to notice Irene's struggle with her answer. She just kept walking, her jaw working with words unsaid--until she spoke again.
"I carried that boy through the entire war. All through the Takeover, during the Fall of Lorule and Termina and Great Bay. Every time his father left for another battle, I thought that would be it--I thought our son would grow up never knowing who his father was. I thought that was worse than anything. That my boy would never--"
She broke off, sucking in a deep breath. "Now I know better," she said, even softer than before. "Now I know that to lose him to a dead man, grown up with a good life, would be a nightmare I'd never wake from."
She didn't stop walking, but now she looked at Irene with glittering eyes. "I cannot lose my son," she whispered. "Not now. Please."
Tears burned in Irene's eyes. She sucked in a breath. "When I first met him, I thought he was the strangest person I'd ever met," she began, watching as Tetra's shoulders trembled. "A scholar and a soldier? Where I'm from, you're either one or the other. And he spoke in an accent, so it was hard to understand him at first. But I eventually got used to it."
"I didn't want to be his friend," Irene admitted, not daring to look at Tetra. "I'm not good at keeping them, and I thought it was pointless, since we wouldn't be able to stay that way. We'd defeat the mask, and go our separate ways, and that would be it. But he didn't let me think that way."
"He was--is--the closest thing I have to family now. Him and Hazen and Saval--they're more than my friends. When I joined them, I was a mess. I tried not to show it, but it's true. And he saw it. He never let me be alone--always pulling me to the fire, talking to me, being friendly even when I wasn't. He was determined to be my friend. And he helped me break down the walls I'd built to avoid having people like him around me."
Irene stopped, turned to look at Tetra. Her blue eyes seared into Irene's, making her wonder if she'd angered the Advisor. But she opened her mouth anyway, because she'd been wanting to say this for a while now.
"I know you're worried about him," she said, her voice beginning to fail her as her eyes filled. "And I'm sorry for what happened. But you aren't his only family."
Tetra's eyes flashed, but it didn't stop Irene. "You're not the only one who wants to save him," she said, forcing her voice to sound strong.
She was tired of people looking at her like this was all her fault. She was tired of hearing courtiers whispering about her when she passed, tired even of having to rely on Zelda to shut them up. She wanted them to call her helpful instead of a 'nuisance to the empress'. And most of all, she wanted her friends' parents to stop looking at her like she was disappointing them.
She couldn't tell if it had paid off immediately. But after a few long moments, Tetra's chest deflated a bit and she bit her lip. "People in this castle think you're the enemy," she said, pulling Irene in. She wrapped her arms around the witch, her voice soft in Irene's ear. "They're fools," she whispered, and let go.
Irene blinked, watching Tetra walk away. "The Empress awaits," she called back, waving a hand. Irene watched her go, a little breathless. She inhaled slowly, turning to face the doors, and summoned her power gently.
The Empress awaits.
Irene pushed the doors open and stepped into the courtyard.
It was a huge space. Large stone pavers covered the ground, pillars lined the sides but left the front open, revealing what looked like a wide area for--
"The barracks," Zelda called. She stood in the center of the courtyard, a few soldiers in dress uniform at her side. "It's the new sparring area for the Hylian Alliance."
Irene nodded, looking around. There were soldiers everywhere, now that she noticed. They ran to and fro and sparred in other areas of the courtyard, the sounds of clashing metal ringing out, and as Irene approached, the two beside Zelda began speaking.
"The Queen of Lorule has been notified, Your Majesty. She has promised to begin preparing as soon as possible."
"Good. And what of Holodrum and Labrynna?"
"Mayor Ruul is already setting aside foodstuffs, Your Majesty. Labrynna's queen has begun gathering her armies as well. She asks only when to begin marching."
"Hmm." Zelda rubbed her chin. "It will take several days to get to the harbor, and at least two and a half weeks on top of that to cross the Waker Sea, plus a few days to get this far north from Zora's Domain. Which takes us almost to a month . . . right. No longer than 35 days, I think. That should be enough time."
"I will deliver the message right away, Your Majesty."
"Thank you."
The soldier bowed and ran off, passing another soldier who was just coming in. "Empress! A notice from Waker!"
He handed Zelda the note while Irene watched, bewildered. Was there something going on? What armies?
"King Valoo sends his regards," the soldier panted, managing a salute. "He says his navy awaits only your command, and the Pearls are fully manned."
"'Inner Island bases Tower of the Gods, Six Eye Reef, and Stonewatcher are ready for orders. Commander Linebeck stationed at Lanayru Bay, standing by for orders. Middle Island bases Five Eye Reef, Ice Ring, Shark, Rock Spire and Pawprint are standing by as well. Orders sent to Outer Island bases Five Star, Fortress Rock, Gale, Bird's Peak and Overlook. By your leave, Your Majesty. Just leave some for me.' This man," Zelda laughed, looking up.
"Is something going on?" Irene asked, figuring this was as good a time as any.
Zelda nodded, handing the note back to the soldier. "I will be honest, Irene. I think you have the power of your ancestors. I think if you had the right training, you could learn to open up time and space the way they did. And if that is the case, I want my armies ready to march."
Irene's jaw nearly dropped. "You mean--you're bringing your army--"
Zelda's eyes had narrowed. "Nothing will stop me from finding that mask. And when I do, I will not leave you children to fight it alone."
She sucked in a deep breath, turning away to look somewhere west. Irene followed her gaze to the desert, glancing at the queen when she spoke again.
"I will find every last trace of Ganondorf and wipe it out," she said quietly. "If I must wage another war to do so, then I will."
Irene chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Do you really believe I have that power?"
Zelda turned to her. "I do. You just need the confidence and training to find it. That's what we're doing here."
She walked to the center of the courtyard and gestured for Irene to follow. "The Empire is preparing for war, Irene. We must do the same."
She took a deep breath and let it out. As she did, an almost invisible wave of power swept out from her, and everything froze. The trees swaying in the summer breeze, the birds' chirping, even the brush of air across Irene's cheek. The soldiers around either didn't notice, or weren't surprised. A blink from the empress, and the world moved again.
She met Irene's wide-eyed gaze and smiled a bit. "The Sage of Time," she explained. "Allows me control of time's flow, its speed. I learned how to use its power during the Takeover. If I hadn't, we likely would not be here today."
"The Sage taught me how to control my power," she said, coming closer. "It's inside, waiting for me to give it an order. It had been there since the day I was born. I didn't realize it, but it's true. The same is true of you."
Zelda took Irene's hands and lifted them to hers. Together, they began glowing--reacting to each other's magic. The empress took her hand away, and the gow subsided faintly. "You are a white witch--one of the most powerful magic users known to Hyrule and her history. Your magic is inside you," she said. "All this time, you've been using a mere fragment of its power. But there is more to it than simple healing and elemental control. Your Gram was right," she added, smiling.
"Now, make a ball of light," she instructed, stepping back.
Irene took a breath and raised her hand. But Zelda spoke again.
"Hand gestures are a crutch."
"Maybe for you," Irene muttered without thinking, but Zelda simply smiled. She pushed Irene's hand down gently. "The power is there. Waiting for you to call on it, waiting for a command. It doesn't need to be directed with physical movement. It knows where to go, so long as you do."
Okay. Come on, Irene, you can get this. She closed her eyes, reaching inside tentatively. The magic reacted, coiling up to meet her, and her fingers twitched. She clenched her fist. Come out, she said, and she was surprised when it just . . . did. Make a ball of light, she instructed.
Subtle warmth on her skin made her open her eyes, and she was greeted with a floating sphere of pure white light. It dried the sweat on her skin, reflected her earrings, brightened the shine in Zelda's blue eyes.
"Well done," she said. "Make another."
The second one was harder. The shape of the first started to malform when Irene tried to summon more power. "Separate a piece of your mind to control the first one," Zelda called. "Like walking and talking at the same time. The magic will do the rest."
Irene breathed in deep. It didn't make sense when she said it, but she did as instructed. Focus on talking, she thought, and felt a strand of magic uncoil from the rest. The one that takes more energy, more concentration. But keep the energy flowing--keep walking.
"Steady," she heard Zelda murmur, and took another breath.
The moment the second ball appeared, it was almost a sound--like static, or fire crackling. She opened her eyes to see two spheres now, hovering just below eye level. "Relax, Irene."
She realized her body was tense. Relaxing was hard and took more thought than she'd ever given it before, but she eventually lowered her shoulders. And with that calm she found it was easier to maintain the spheres' shapes.
Zelda said, "Good. Keeping the body light and relaxed helps to keep control of your magic. Maintaining steady breathing helps even more. Are you ready to keep going?"
"I'm ready," Irene said, rolling her shoulders.
"Good. Hold those two for as long as you can. I want you to focus on keeping their shape while also staying relaxed and breathing calmly. If you feel you can manage three spheres, go ahead. But don't burn yourself out, all right?"
She stepped away once Irene nodded, heading for the soldiers who heralded her. Irene closed her eyes against the bright sun and focused, turning her energy inward. Steady breathing. Maintain shape. Steady breathing. Maintain shape. Steady breathing--
Vaguely she wondered if it was supposed to be this easy so soon. It was hard at first, but now, after several minutes . . . should she split another one?
Might as well, she thought. It spun itself into being as she exhaled, and after a short adjustment, they were all steady, and she'd barely been affected.
Don't burn yourself out, Zelda had warned. Well . . . at what point would that be? Irene felt fine now--better than fine, actually. She opened her eyes to watch her spheres, feeling a tiny smile break through.
I wonder how much more I could do.
"The committee from Termina is on its way, Your Majesty."
Zelda stopped and turned. "On its way? For what?"
The courier blinked. "For the celebration, Your Majesty. Of the day Termina joined the empire. It's in a week."
Zelda stared at him. Blinked. "Oh, shit," she muttered. "I completely forgot."
The courier smiled sympathetically. "To be honest, I think most did as well," he offered. "There has been much going on lately."
"Indeed," Zelda murmured. She began walking again, the courier following. "Well, this will give me a chance to apprise them of the situation with my son, as well as Irene. Send a message to Tetra about their lodgings. What else?"
"Ilayen sends word. He and Dark reached Twilight last night. The king has begun mobilizing Twilight's armies. The royal family will be traveling here for their safety, as the report reads."
"Very well," Zelda responded. "It will be good to have them all back again. Any word on the children?"
"Young Yūre and Rova are doing very well. They hardly cry, Sasha tells me."
"That will make the journey a bit easier on Dark, I'd imagine."
"You can say that again," a new voice said, and Zelda turned to see Link approaching. He laughed with her. "Goddesses know my brother can't handle crying babies."
Zelda snickered as he kissed her head. "And they know you were the picture of a capable father," she teased.
Link feigned insult as the courier smothered a laugh. "Are you saying I didn't change enough diapers? Because I changed a lot of diapers, Your Majesty. Some might even say too many. And I heard you laughing, Jase."
"Oh, yes, the terrible diaper change," Zelda said, as Jase murmured an apology and Link waved it off with a smile. "Hazen put up with you, but Dinsel wanted no part of it."
"What kind of child wants a dirty diaper?" Link demanded, though he was laughing. "From the get-go, that child--what the?"
They stopped, staring around them. A sphere of light floated past, a bright spot in the gathering darkness. Zelda had hardly noticed the sun had set, but now, as the courtyard was wreathed in shadows, the light from the sphere made it more obvious. And there wasn't just one.
All through the courtyard, spheres of light floated aimlessly around, making the area look like a fairy garden. Zelda met Link's gaze, her bewildered, amazed smile matching his, and she reached out a hand to one of the spheres.
As soon as her finger met it, the sphere bounced away, almost propelled, though she'd barely touched it. Tiny golden sparks fell to the ground at her feet.
"Irene," she breathed.
She pulled Link along, weaving through the spheres, and it seemed they reacted to her presence--bouncing with sudden energy as she passed, then returning to their lazy route when she'd gone.
She rounded the corner of the courtyard where she'd left Irene and came to a stop, sitting back on her heels with a smile. Link stared at the witch, eyes closed, hands loose at her side, totally relaxed, and looked at Zelda in amazement.
There is so much more to your power than you know, her Gram had told her. She had no idea how right she was.
Link slipped his Deku mask on and stepped out of the bushes. He should be used to this mask by now, but walking always felt a bit strange in the beginning. He made his way to the gate and said to the guards, "My name is Link. I'm here to see the Deku King."
The guards nodded and stepped aside, allowing him in. Link entered the palace and headed for the throne room, ignoring the looks thrown his way.
They weren't mean, or disdainful, or even close. They were sad, and somehow that made it worse. It just brought home the pain of wearing this mask. The Deku butler's son had died in the very forest Link had been robbed in, by the very person who had robbed him. It filled Link with anger and grief thinking about it, and made him doubly determined to defeat Majora. It was a reminder, whenever he thought about giving up.
Do you regret it? Being the hero?
That boy's question still bothered Link. He didn't regret it, of course not. He saved Hyrule and Zelda. His friends and the sages, everyone was safe and happy now. No matter the cost to himself, that would always make it worth the struggle.
But he hadn't told Hazen that.
Yes, prince, sometimes I hate this hero's spirit.
He hadn't lied. He did hate it sometimes. He hated seeing the confused expression on Anju's face. He hated seeing Viscen's ghost in his head, slumped on the rocks. Dead. He hated seeing the Deku butler's son's ghost walking alongside him when he wore this mask, a dark brown cord connecting them at the wrists. He hated hearing Mikau's voice echoing in his mind--Please save her eggs. Do what I couldn't.
And he hated her smile--the one she gave him after they won, ignoring the blood and dirt covering him. He hated the hope it carried. Hope didn't do anything. Hope didn't earn him any damned respect--only his sword did that, and even then it was fleeting, built on fear and reputation. He hated that he couldn't escape that smile, no matter how far he ran.
A delusional part of him had actually thought about that prince's question. Had they been friends--him and Zelda? That train of thought never went far. Of course they weren't friends. She was the princess, and he was the weapon. There were oceans between them. And as long as he wielded the Master Sword, that would never change. As long as they called him Hero . . .
Link tried not to grind his teeth.
He passed through the halls, the sounds of the king's court growing closer with each wobbly step. She'd tried. Tried to be his friend. But when it became clear that the courtiers and nobles only derided her for it, she had reluctantly stepped back.
But only when Link himself had asked for it.
Her face had been tight, unhappy. Even though she was only ten years old at that time, her expression had translated so clearly her dislike of his request, but she had complied. When he asked her why, she'd simply looked at him, and said--
"That's what friends do for each other."
He'd been dumbstruck. Had wanted to argue that that was defeating the purpose. But she'd simply turned back to her tea, and he'd been left adrift.
He wanted to sigh now, but there were doors to the king's court, so Link sucked in a breath and walked in.
The Deku King had looked like an oversized walnut with a giant flower on his head when Link had first seen him, and that impression had not changed. Link nevertheless bowed before him, the loud, excited music of the chamber echoing on the stone. The King raised a hand, and the chattering and drums and pipes quieted, at least enough for a conversation to be had.
"You! The Savior of the Deku! Why have you returned to us?"
"I need your help, Your Majesty," Link said, in the butler's son's voice. "If you would, I need information on Majora's Mask."
The King broke into a strange dance. Link waited for him to finish, glad that the mask didn't allow for facial expressions. He had a feeling the king wouldn't appreciate Link rolling his eyes.
The dance finished, and the King looked at Link with what he imagined was a quizzical expression. "Why do you need to know about that evil mask?"
"It'll help me defeat it, and bring peace back to the Deku Kingdom," Link answered. The last part was a bit of bribery, but it worked, of course. Bribery always worked.
"Hmm." The King pretended to think about it. "Very well. I do not know much about the mask, young hero, but I have heard rumors of its appearances in Snowhead. You should check there."
Wonderful. Link tried not to sigh as he said, "Very well. Thank you, Your Majesty."
He turned as the Deku King began to dance again, and the music kicked back up, trying not to growl out loud. What a waste of time.
As soon as he was out of the palace, he took the mask off, carefully tucking it back into his bag, and took out his ocarina. He played the Song of Soaring, and when he opened his eyes next, he stood on a freezing peak.
Always have to be inconvenient, don't you, Majora? He thought, shivering. He pulled a cloak out of his bag and wrapped it around himself, having learned the hard way that Zora tunics didn't work very well in the snow. And he'd lined this particular cloak with wolfos fur, the warmest he could find.
He trudged through the paths to the mountain village, hoping the Deku King had known what he was talking about. With Link's luck, Majora hadn't even been sighted here, and Link was wasting his time. Wouldn't that be the joke of the century.
"He's been here," Tatl said, unexpectedly. Link's eyes flicked to her, spinning by his head, a sure sign of her discomfort.
He didn't respond. He knew she didn't want him to, not where Majora was usually concerned. Not when Tael was somewhere out there, vulnerable. Alone.
Link bit his lip to keep from speaking and just kept trudging on. He had entered the village and was walking blindly, his eyes on the road but his mind focused inward.
He wondered how he would even get home. Wondered if Zelda would wonder where he'd gone, if he'd made good on his promise. He wondered if she'd moved on already, or if she still considered him her friend, and still defended him against the nobles like she had so often before. Wishing she did felt wrong, and wishing for the opposite didn't feel right, so he settled for a frustrated sigh.
He shouldn't care. He'd left, just as he said he would. And now he was stuck here, trapped in a mirror world with no escape, no matter how many times he'd searched the woods. What did it matter?
Her face . . . when he'd shouted those damn words. His feet scuffed against the top layer of fresh powder, sending a spray of white snow glittering in the faint sun. She'd looked like someone had punched her in the gut, like someone had taken the breath from her lungs. Crushed. He wished he'd never gone to her room that night, wished he'd never started that argument.
It had been a mistake, an excuse. A stupid, foolish excuse to feel something, to have a dummy to focus his anger and regret and frustration on. And she had been entirely undeserving.
"Hoot hoot! Link, is that you?"
Link looked up, squinting against the dim sun. A shadow flew over his head and then alighted on the roof of one of the Gorons' houses. "Gaepora."
"Hoot hoot. What brings you to Snowhead?"
"Clearing the dungeon," Link answered mechanically, looking around. The owl cocked his head one way, then another.
"I see. Do you need directions?"
"Yes, well, actually I--"
"Hoo hoot! Very well. If you take the next left--"
Withholding a groan, Link tuned him out. It was his own fault for not being careful, for thinking about things he tried to make himself forget. And in true fashion, now he couldn't stop thinking about them.
Link stared at the snow, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Entirely undeserving of his anger, and yet he'd piled it all on, thrown it at her as if it were her fault. Vented it all out, and then shouted when she'd responded calmly. Why do you even bother? He'd shouted. Just drop the princess act for once in your life. They don't like you any more than me!
She'd frozen, her throat bobbing. A child--both of them. And yet, while Link had retained his memories of those seven years, Zelda hadn't. And he'd essentially blamed her for events that hadn't even happened. Had thrown it in her face.
You abandoned them, Zelda, he'd sneered. You left them to suffer and die while you played at being a Sheikah. And then when I woke up, you had me play the Hero, cleaning up the princess's messes.
She'd gone white as chalk. Link had stood there, chest heaving, bolstered by his memories of a false life--false, as far as anyone besides him was concerned. Lifted up by righteousness, by his anger and bitterness, fueled by those nobles and their littering, their veiled insults, comments made when they thought he couldn't hear, and even when he could.
Dog. Little hero. Weapon. No better than a slave, and as dumb as one.
So he'd spat at his princess, with no thought to how she might have reacted. So tired of being the court's dummy, he'd wanted one of his own. Just for once.
And once had been enough. Zelda had stood, straightening her dress in that way she had when she was upset and trying to hide it--carefully prim, every movement economical and precise. And she'd turned to him, and said--
"Is that it?"
Gaepora cocked his head, golden-brown eyes scanning Link. "Not everything is as it seems. Sometimes the truth is buried, such as this village is buried beneath the snow. Seeing the truth requires the skills you have acquired thus far. Good luck."
So the Lens of Truth. Gaepora flew off, leaving Link digging through his bag. He pulled the Lens out and held it at the ready. He made to walk forwards, heading for the Snowhead Temple, but after just one step he stopped, looking out at his surroundings.
Link hummed, changing direction. The path was easy to follow--falling snow had dusted the platforms, leaving obvious signs for where to jump. He made it to the last landing easily, stepping inside to the almost warmth. The cae walls blocked some of the wind, but it was still cold. He wrapped his cloak around himself and looked around.
"What now?" he muttered, ignoring the Skulltula's hissing.
Sometimes the truth is buried.
A transparent line, but helpful. Link held up the Lens of Truth to his eye and looked through it, turning in a slow circle. Nothing to see: cave walls, grass clumps, the treasure che--
Link wavered.
At the back wall, behind the treasure chest he'd gotten the Lens from, a massive white portal stood, swirling gently. He knew it was a portal only because he felt the same as when he'd fallen through the hole to Termina. His magic bar exceeded its limit, his magic items all activated at once, and he felt the familiar pull on his chest.
Swallowing, Link lowered the Lens. The portal disappeared. His magic bar didn't go back to normal, though, and his arrows kept going off in his bag. So the portal really was there. He approached, raising and lowering the Lens as he went until he stood directly before it. It continued to swirl, as if it couldn't care less whether he stepped through or not. Because it didn't. Because it was a portal, and he was a damned fool.
A fool with a thousand regrets, who hadn't given a thought to what he'd ever say to rectify them, because how could he? Without a way to return, for however long he'd been here, he hadn't even considered what he'd do when faced with that which he searched for. Now it stood before him, as if waiting for him to make a decision.
He tried thinking about it, but it all came down to one thing, really.
Didn't you have anyone precious to you?
Link swallowed against a tight throat. And he stepped through the portal.
Hello friends! Long chapter today because I just couldn't help myself. This is honestly one of my favorite chapters so far, so I hope y'all like it!