World's End

He planted his boot and moved no further. The earth was warm, worn, pliant, but motionless.

"We should have been there by now."

"How are you so sure?" Midna frowned.

"It's been so long since we've left the canyon," Link gestured in a frenzy. "By now we're nearing that village we once passed."

Faint memories of moonlight and forgiveness thrummed quietly behind her eyes and she felt them, soft as silk.

"Well, yeah. I guess."

"It's – it's weird, isn't it?" he insisted. "Zelda said these vessels had to be close to the chaos, else they'd have no control over the madness going on."

Midna peered at their surroundings. No longer was it dark, gone were the desolate crags and trampled grounds. She looked up; the sky – placid, pale, blue – stared back.

She noticed Link fidgeting, fingers coiling against themselves, voice contorted in a low mumble. Aryll at his elbow, eyes swimming with worry.

"You're right," And he was. Her veins boiled with it. How wrong it was. Her instinct was screaming, seething, and though the air was clean, the soil unmarred, it was all rotten. "Something's up."

A head of red bobbed into view, cutting across the horizon where blue met with dust and drooping grass.

"What?" Midna rubbed at her eye. "You're-"

"Oh! Goodness!"

The once-perhaps-always King of Evil was no stranger to defeat. Time and again he would have his ambitions ground to a halt, time and again the kingdoms he toppled would rise and greet him with his own failure, would pin him betwixt heroic steel, would tower above him with the princess' solemn, unending triumph; her cold, merciless wisdom that scraped the heavens.

He recognized nothing if not his own limits. He knew he had already, dangerously crossed them long ago.

Breath haggard, knuckles bloodied, jaw brutal yet broken, eyes sunken yet fierce. Living on less than a prayer.

Light cackled towards him, split his chest, splintered his back against the ashen wall. He mustered mites of his remaining, feeble strength and crushed it beneath his palm.

When Zelda couldn't take much more and made towards him, tears running freely, stance prepared for death together with him, he shook his head.

"Stay…back," blood spackled the gravel amidst every word. "Protect…Marin."

"No, I can't just leave you to your-" she broke off, gait trembling even as she tore spirits asunder, arm huddled around Marin even as she looked hopelessly towards him.

"I'll live…yet," he smiled. "When have I ever…stayed dead?"

She returned it, despite herself. Despair wrote itself into each corner of her lips.

"You're a never ending pain in my ass, that's for sure," she said, tears mingling with her smile.

Where once the battlefield was a storm, now not much remained but a muted sort of hell, the kind that paints the earth a quiet red. Darkness had swallowed the bodies of the fallen, had welcomed the gentle river of blood into its confines until they blended so closely it was impossible to tell one from the other.

Of the original regiment, less than a quarter had lasted.

At the slaughter's aftermath, Ganondorf stumbled silently to his feet and gazed towards the sky. Blackened. Charred. He found no hint of the stars, but he told himself they were still there.

"Anju?!"

"M-Miss Midna? What are you doing out here?"

The feeling of dread only waxed greater, and Midna almost clutched at her heart.

Her eyes darted from Anju's astonished expression to Link, who simply stood there, as confused as she was.

Ganondorf happened to catch a glimpse of Marin, still curled against Zelda. And he thought-

He thought to himself-

"The reason," Midna muttered to herself. "The reason, the reason, the reason, the reason we're out here so far and still nothing-"

Link unconsciously clutched Aryll tighter to himself as he tried to make sense of Midna's garble.

And it was just a fleeting thought – just for a moment, he wondered – and…

And it was such a small thing, but it started growing, taking form until finally he had doubt – how could he, he berated himself, didn't he trust her?

But the more he observed, the more he couldn't let it go.

Midna scolded herself for daring to even entertain such a horrid notion. But-

"Link," she asked slowly. "It was seventeen years ago, right? That…that the Goddesses turned mad."

"Um, yeah. Seventeen."

Again, she hated herself. But she had to make sure. So she steeled herself and continued.

Marin's clothes were frayed, burnt, blackened with soot, in complete disrepair.

And he loved Marin, he did. He wished all the happiness in the world for her and nothing less. But how could she possibly, possibly have not a scratch on her? And while he was torturing himself with the idea, he might as well ask the rest.

"How did she outrun the Goddesses' creatures all the way here?" he whispered.

They chose Outset as the first site of attack the chances of that happening we couldn't find a trace of them this entire way she chose to come with us she chose to we've walked so far and nothing seventeen years seventeen years

"How old is Aryll?" she whispered, as if afraid to disturb something.

Link frowned.

"Seventeen years old. Why?"

He felt it first rather than saw it. The growing, bulbous cone of light. A drop of color amidst the darkness.

"Zelda!" he screamed, tearing across the canyon to reach her. "RUN!"

Zelda reacted to his hoarse voice on instinct, and darted to the side as the world of darkness erupted into blue.

The force of it careened her into his body, and together they tumbled along the floor, a mess of blood and fabric and dirt.

"Link!" she hastily tugged him out of reach and leaped back as far as she could muster.

"Midna, what are you-"

But his voice was swallowed by the roaring winds as the air was rent with fire.

Gales tore the road to ribbons as magma covered the land and sent itself soaring.

Red blinded him. His vision blurred green.

Marin – but not her at all – floated before them, eyes brimmed with lightning, shoulders hunched with infinite knowledge, fingers swathed with wisps of insurmountable divinity and not a mote of sanity.

Demons masquerading as girls, parading their brazen power before them, and all Link could do was stare.

Stare at the crimson mass of power that most certainly was not his sister.

Their manic giggles snapped him back to reality.

"Anju" raised a finger and wagged it, idly brushing aside strands of green.

"Ready or not," she sang, voice so beautiful it sent him chills.

It was deranged just how impossibly beautiful they both were.

"Here," the monster wearing Aryll's face crooned.

"We," She twirled in place, her hair engulfing her like a red, bloody veil.

"Come!"

Far from light, far from darkness, they learned that day that Hell came in colors.

Author's Note: Hahaha I'm trash

Man, it's a been a while. It's just life getting in the way as usual, so don't worry, I'm still on this like butter on toast! Hopefully you guys are still enjoying it hehe ogod why am I so awful

I figured that since I was gone so long you guys deserved a doozy. And what a doozy it was, eh? I'm hoping some things from previous chapters are falling into place. I've been building towards this for a while now, so hopefully it came across well. Wow I use that word a lot. Hopefully hopefully hopefully hopefully hopefully.

Please review?! :D