A/N: This chapter was revised as of 4/6/2019 - Polished, minor errors and typos fixed.
When Heroes Fall
By: Selphie Kinneas 175
Chapter 13: Worth and Weakness
.:.
She peered into the distance.
Far away where only her unseeing eyes could see. She watched and waited and listened and focused. She was searching for something specific, but at the same time wandering aimlessly through space and time.
The darkness had become her playground.
In it she was free. Freer than she had ever been in her entire life. She was free to pirouette on top of clouds, to skip through fields of stars, to sing from the highest peak, to play with the rabbits outside of her old castle prison. So, she stayed there as often as she could. After all, when she would open her eyes... there would always be nothing.
She was still getting used to it. The days that permitted her to stay within the endless expanse of her mind's eye were by far her favorite. The other days reminded her too much of what she'd lost, and she struggled to keep up that tough front she'd been lectured to keep up all her life.
The darkness was exciting. It helped her to forget, helped her to remember in losing one of her senses, she had gained something greater. Her mother's voice would cripple her, though. Ren's presence would seize her throat. The thought of the rabbits made her cry. She would never be able to look upon any of them again.
It was around that time she would retreat back to the pink skies and chocolate hills and bunnies galore of her secret space of in-between.
It wasn't all made up, of course. She could see people, places, things. She could see what was happening in places miles away, in the hearts of people eons away, with the intent of doing things present or future. She had made that much known to everyone, but she was still learning how it all worked.
Her playground was also a jigsaw puzzle. Thousands of pieces with identical colors and shapes. Hundreds of fragments that looked like they went together but just didn't quite match. When two clicked, her heart reacted. Her pulse adjusted and her blind eyes danced behind sealed lids. It was how she knew.
She could feel those very same people, places, and things. She could feel places of great importance, housing people with strong emotions, wishing things on others whether good or ill. She was still teaching herself how to hone in on particular people. Misty swirls of color tended to show themselves when it was needed, but she knew she could venture where she wanted, when she wanted, she need only learn how to control it.
Stronger emotions yielded brighter colors. Weaker ones less so. Different colors meant different things, and she could only discern them by the sensation it gave her. Unpleasant feelings hurt her heart and stole her breath. Pleasant feelings warmed her chest and tickled her brain. She didn't know if she was always right, but she had to trust her gut. In the moment it always seemed to just click and she knew what she was doing. Her mother said she was touched by the goddesses... she didn't know if she believed it or not.
Despite having her own private fairytale land she could retreat to, she spent most of her time gazing at the real world. She longed to sharpen her understanding of her ability, to master her sight, to distinguish the ambiguous. So for days in and days out she sat, cross-legged with palms on top of her knees, eyelids shut and eyes exploring inwards.
From her room she saw a man just outside of the village crouching patiently, hunting for food for his family. She could see his diligence in shimmering hues of teal and azure. She saw a poor woman attempt to steal an apple from a food stall on the dirt road, only to be foiled by the owner. She could see her fear in musty shades of lemon and amber. She saw a wealthy man get down on one knee and propose to a lovely woman. She could see his love in radiant pigments of raspberry and maroon, and she could see her excitement in sparkling glows of ginger and clay. Those people were all near, though. She wanted to venture farther.
She wanted to see the magnificent people and otherworldly creatures she'd heard about in stories. She wanted to see the elegant zora, slicing through crystal waters like ballerinas. She wanted to see the powerful gorons, strong and muscular like the very boulders they emulate. She wanted to see the fabled yetis, kind and warm in demeanor despite their terrifying appearance. She wanted to see the gerudo, strong women warriors that she wasn't even sure still existed. She wanted to see her father, what he planned to do. She wanted to see the hero, how he planned to thwart the former.
So she looked farther.
Past milky causeways and shadowy firmaments she gazed. Her eyes pierced the barricade of reality and she walked in the betwixt where only deities tread. She looked where she could. She concentrated where she couldn't. Delicate steps traipsed through a dimensional space that was foreign but somehow comfortable. She had no idea what to do, but knew exactly what to do.
There was dark light. A conundrum, but it was there. There was a bright darkness. A contradiction, but it was undeniable. She honed in and peered deeper. She saw an egregious man standing tall in basked corruption. She saw a valiant man reduced to a false version of himself. She recognized the black and gray mists of malcontent. She recognized the green and gold swirls of courage.
Then she felt a presence in the real world.
"Ren."
The boy bit his lip. There was no question in her voice, no uncertainty in her tone – yet he had just barely entered the room.
"Hi," Ren nervously muttered, standing still in the threshold.
The girl's shoulders tensed up, "You distracted me."
Ren's voice hung awkwardly in his throat. He watched, unsure of what to say, as Emeline attempted to return to her inward place.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean-"
"Shh."
He went silent. She sat with legs crossed beneath her body atop her soft bed and her hands were rigid on top of her knees. Her eyes darted rapidly behind closed lids and her brows drew together as she focused. He had just wanted to talk to her, but clearly she was concentrated on something important. Ren wished he could shrink into the floor from embarrassment.
He took one soft step backwards, attempting to leave without further disturbing her, but her voice cut through the quiet air like a knife.
"Don't go," she called sharply, but her body did not so much as twitch.
He halted in his tracks. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.
"Come here."
He swallowed hard before approaching her. He couldn't explain it, but ever since she'd gained her otherworldly power, he felt so nervous around her. He stood beside her bed and after a moment she reached her hand out to him. She said not a word, she simply held out her hand toward him. With one hand, he took it.
He stood still, she sat still. Her features were strained and Ren watched her with curiosity. After some time passed, she extended her other hand out to him.
He scrutinized it with confusion and barely whispered, "Em-"
"Take my hand," she requested gracefully, yet firmly.
So he did. He grabbed her free hand in his and sat down on the bed across from her. One hand in each, he stared at her pretty face, wishing he could see what she was seeing.
She felt his inquisitiveness, "I can see your father with ease..."
Ren's sapphire eyes sparkled with surprise, "My dad?"
"Your presence... your touch..." she explained almost inaudibly, "It helps me to see him more clearly."
The boy grabbed her hands even tighter, "Is he okay?"
She squinted harder, and he hung on her every nuance. Her icy blonde hair billowing around her like a waterfall, her dainty hands light as a feather upon his palms, her elegance in her overwhelming concentration.
Emeline's delicate fingers squeezed, thinking deeply on what she was seeing. Ren saw her conclusion in the upturn of her thin brows, in the frown on her rosy lips.
"Not... particularly," she answered at length.
Ren looked disheartened, she felt it.
"He is strong-willed," she described with concern in her small voice, "But he is in danger."
Ren's gaze fell to the floor. He worried for his father, despite not exactly having great feelings towards him. Truthfully, he didn't really know what he felt anymore. There was an undeniable part of him that loved him, but he felt so angry with him at the same time. There was an irrefutable part of him that rooted for him, but he also longed for this opportunity to prove himself.
"Do you still plan to go to him?" Emeline's lacy voice pierced through his thoughts.
"I..." Ren pondered it for a moment. He had been so eager about the plan before, and he still was, but it scared him. His desire to justify his worth proved to be stronger than his fear. "Yes," he answered at last.
The princess seemed somber, "I worry what will happen if my father finds you. My mother believes he will stop at nothing to get the hero to cooperate..." she frowned deeply, "He may... harm you."
"He won't find me," Ren said, squeezing her hands.
Emeline did not seem convinced.
"I'm good at sneaking," he smirked, "I'll be careful."
She smiled ever so slightly, "I pray the goddesses will walk with you."
Ren sat then, still as stone, grasping his friend's hands and staring at her closed lids. She withdrew inward again and he was left to himself. He felt alone, and in his loneliness he thought again of his mother. He wished he could turn the images off, but they always came back. He loved her beyond words, but being reminded that he would never see her again was too painful. He wanted just to speak to her again, to ask for her advice, her opinion. Would she be proud of what he was doing? Or would she scold him? He would even like to be scolded by her, just one more time.
His heart beat fast and he grew impatient. He wanted to make his mother proud, he wanted to make them all proud. He wouldn't wait for permission or the perfect time – he would leave now.
"I'm gonna go, Emmy," he blurted at last, rising to his feet.
"Now?" she questioned.
"Yeah," he stood awkwardly, wanting to give her some gesture of goodbye, but not knowing what would be appropriate.
He took her petite hand and raised it to his lips. She giggled softly and Ren's cheeks grew hot.
"I, uh, heard that was something fancy to do before royalty," he stammered, pausing in uncomfortable silence for a moment before abruptly heading for the door, "Sorry if it was weird, bye."
She heard his footsteps soar out into the hall and down the stairs. She raised cool hands to her warm cheeks, blushing gingerly. She couldn't explain it, but she felt like she could fully be herself around him, yet she was reluctant at the same time. She could see that he liked her, and perhaps it made her more nervous than not knowing. While she found it a bit bitter to lose out on finding out as a surprise, simply knowing was easier on the heart. She definitely still... thought he was handsome.
Ren was quick, hoping to get out before anyone should try and stop him. He knew they had all agreed to the idea, but he wanted to avoid the lectures and speeches. He didn't want to hear about how safe he needed to be, he already knew that. He didn't want to hear about how brave and strong his father was, he was already aware. He wanted to leave, help his dad however he could, and come back with whatever news it should bring before any of them could even start to worry. He was so eager to prove that he was more than just the hero's son – he could be a hero, too.
It was currently dinnertime and most everyone was occupied enjoying their meal together in the next room over. Ren took that as his opportunity and darted out to his equine companion.
"Mila," he smiled when she greeted him with a whinny. He ran his fingers through her white mane and breathed deep the crisp, night air.
"Let's go," he said at last.
And they were off.
In a dark place miles away from the boy and his horse, the man he sought saw her.
Again.
He always saw her. It was torment. It was peace. It was agony. It was bliss. She came when he needed her most, an occurrence he had realized happened far too often. Most times he welcomed the cruel fantasy, but it always ended up leaving him more alone than he had been before. Most times she was kind and loving like she had been at the end, but sometimes she was brutally harsh.
"You're stupid."
Her words stung. Her voice was dull.
He didn't say anything – he could never find his voice or the willpower, or both. Sometimes he thought she just didn't permit him the ability.
"How could you go and get yourself in this situation?"
He opened his eyes and saw her hovering on the other side of the bars. Her hands were on her hips and she had that familiar face of pure disgust.
"UGH!" she moaned, "I should've just kept you as my servant. I knew you were too dumb to go it on your own."
He hung his head, finding nothing but a ragged, chained body on a cold, dark floor. She was right. She was always right.
"Well, good job, Mr. Important Hero. You went and made your friends worry again," she scoffed, "Typical. Do you ever think before you do stuff? Or is it just fun to jump right in and see how horribly messed-up-beyond-all-recognition you can make things?"
"Shut up, Midna," he finally whispered.
"Hah! Excuse me? You're my slave, you can't talk to me like th-"
"Shut up," he said again, his voice weak.
"Tch," she sneered, "You always were useless. Me closing that portal was the best decision I could have made. Din knows you would've just screwed everything u-"
"Shut up!" he yelled, but when he looked up at her, she was gone.
Viscen stood in her place.
"Why, I'm hurt," the king mocked
Link's shoulders visibly slouched and he allowed his head to hang low.
"I simply came to have a little chat with my dear friend," Viscen explained, entering the cell and approaching the hero.
Link was slumped forward, his hands hoisted up to head level bound by cuffs and chains to the wall behind him. He sat on his knees with his gaze downward.
Viscen examined him gleefully for a moment, but he hid his giddy demeanor. He knelt down before his guest and his voice was low and calm, something Link had yet to hear from him.
"Tell me truthfully, hero, why will you not open the twilight portal for me?"
Link didn't say anything, and he expected the king to explode as he normally did. Instead, he breathed slow and restrained his anger. The patient silence was surprising, so Link spoke up.
"You have bad intentions," the hero muttered, "I don't see a reason why I would."
Viscen pursed his lips and opened his mouth to respond, but Link cut him off.
"I don't know how to get there anyway."
"Sure you do," Viscen cooed, "Those mind tricks are not so easily played on me, my friend."
"I'm not your friend," Link mumbled, "And it's true."
"Hm," Viscen pondered, and the air again went quiet.
The king eyed the man before him curiously. Link's shaggy hair covered his face as he sat and mutely coped with his situation. Viscen didn't understand so much about him.
"Why are you the hero?"
Link scoffed, "I ask myself that every day, Your Majesty."
Viscen's eyes narrowed. It didn't make sense. If the stories were true, he had only been a boy when he was plucked by the hands of the goddesses themselves. Why would they choose someone like that, and not someone like himself?
He looked then to his captive's hand, dangling limply from its confines. He saw there the glowing triangle of the gods. It was faint, pulsing with the slow beat of the heart it latched to. Seeing it so openly mock him made the king's blood boil.
Viscen grabbed Link's left hand harshly, "Why should you have this?"
Link breathed deep, growing tired of the mad king's antics, "I don't know."
His lack of a real reply only made Viscen angrier.
"Why should you have this!" he shouted, crushing the hero's hand in his own.
"I don't know!" Link yelled, at last meeting his captor's glare.
The hero's eyes were bloodshot and his face was sullen and pale. Viscen didn't care. He withdrew a small knife from his side and placed the sharp steel to the back of Link's hand.
"I will just take it for myself if the idiotic deities cannot see who truly deserves it."
Viscen spat his declaration through gritted teeth and sunk the blade into the hero's flesh. Link squirmed, trying with all his might to yank his hand away, but the metal chains proved to be much stronger than he was. The king traced his knife along the edges of the gaudy triangles, sinking just deep enough to remove the skin but not piercing his hand.
Link groaned in pain, still trying to wrestle his hand free though he knew it was futile. His flesh grew hot as blood freely poured down his arm. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, focusing on filling his lungs and nothing more.
Viscen concentrated. He leaned in close and carved wildly like a butcher. He scraped over bone and muscle and paid the mess he made no mind. To his surprise, the triforce glowed brighter. The deeper he traced and the more skin he peeled back the stronger the triangles shone. They pulsed rapidly in time with the hero's heart, illuminating the dark room around them. They grew so bright they nearly blinded the king, but he would not stop until he was complete.
Link's breaths were ragged but he directed all of his strength to simply breathing. Focusing on the mundane action of drawing air into his lungs was a way to cope with the pain, albeit not all too well. Focus on the in, the out, the beating of his heart. The in, the out, the beating of his heart. The in, the out, the beating of his heart. The in... the out... the beating of his heart...
Just when pain and exhaustion were about to claim him, Viscen threw his knife to the ground in an outrage. Link barely peeked through his bangs – the king had managed to skin the entirety of the back of his left hand, but still the triforce shone. Blood streamed down Link's forearm and dripped off of his elbow like a river. The sight of his own blood didn't do anything to him anymore, he was just... so tired.
All was silent for some time, the only sound being that of Link's heavy breathing. Viscen watched him and somehow grew angrier.
"Just give it to me," the king bellowed, crawling nearer to his guest, "Just give it to me!"
Link panted, "It doesn't work like that."
Viscen snarled, his fists clenched in his lap, "I deserve it."
Link said nothing. The king's fury was nearly at its apex, but he inhaled deeply through his nose and calmed himself.
"Have you ever been to Labrynna, hero?"
Link huffed, battling dark hands that wished to take him away.
Viscen didn't care that he didn't answer, "I thought not. It is my home kingdom, and it is beautiful. It has vast towns and valleys, animals and people, just like Hyrule... and yet the goddesses shun us."
The hero listened, though the pain made it difficult; the thumping of his pulse in his ears sounded like thunder.
"The goddesses coddle Hyrule like an infant, swaddle it in their light, while all other kingdoms are ignored and left to ruin. Why, hero?" he seethed, "Why should that be fair?"
Link was silent.
Viscen breathed and kept himself composed, changing the subject if only slightly, "I was cast out. My brother, being the first born, was all prepared to assume the throne. He died, and it should have fallen to me," he paused to suppress the rising anger, "My father and mother, the king and queen of Labrynna, didn't think me worthy of the throne. They sent me to another kingdom to prove myself to them, to prove I could manage to not run a kingdom into the ground. I would say I have succeeded. But I want more."
Link absorbed the words, but still didn't care much. He was in too much pain, too exhausted, too dehydrated and starved – this was the same man that threatened his loved ones, he cared not for some sob story that led him to be the malevolent man he was today.
"I will have the goddesses' favor. They will give me the triforce. I will rule all lands and make my father and mother see the true leader I am. See that I am worthy of ruling our beautiful home land."
Link inhaled and exhaled, closing his eyes tight as he endured in silence. The words were like an incessant buzzing in his ear.
Viscen sighed, reveling in a distant memory, "My brother was a show-off. He was boastful and smug, but he was everything I longed to be. That Mutoh," he grieved, "Never knew an ounce of hardship, always having everyone's favor. But I loved him, our parents loved him even more. His death was their second biggest disappointment. Being left with me as their only son and heir was their first."
Link's brow tightened and he just barely peeked up at the king through tangled locks. He had deep bags under his russet eyes and his dark chestnut beard was speckled with gray. The look on his face was one of actual... sadness. Had Viscen actually cared for someone? It didn't matter, Link shook away the thought. He was a vile man with vile intentions.
"So, hero," he spoke after a length of silence, "Do you think me worthy?"
Link looked down again, panting less as time slowly worked on transforming the pain to numbness.
Viscen detested his silence. He grabbed his knife and placed the flat of the steel under Link's chin, lifting his head up to meet him.
Once he knew he had his attention, the hero's eyes locked wearily into his own, he spoke bluntly, "I said... Do you think me worthy?"
Link swallowed hard, a severe dryness in his throat like sandpaper. Moments passed and they simply stared. Link saw fierce dedication in the king's brown eyes, an unwavering conviction to his goal. He didn't see pure, unbridled evil like he did when he looked into the eyes of Ganondorf all those years ago, but he saw a savage, cutthroat avenue by which he would stop at nothing to achieve his objective. Viscen saw devastating fatigue in the hero's blue eyes, an exciting blow to his morale. He saw pallid skin and so much blood. He saw a weariness that he inflicted upon him, and he felt proud. Underneath it all was that indomitable courage, a bravery and power born from years of misery – maybe just a few more days could be the tipping point.
When the king's gaze did not falter and his blade remained cold beneath his chin, Link replied softly, "That is not my decision."
Viscen's eyes narrowed. The obvious shirk of his question irritated him, but it mattered not anymore. He had done what he set out to do today – dig the hero just a little bit deeper.
With that, the king stood and headed for the iron door. Link's voice stopped him in the threshold.
"You need me alive, do you not?"
The hero's voice was frail; it filled Viscen with joy.
"Why, yes. Yes, I do," he answered smugly.
"This will become infected."
Viscen knew what he referred to, eyeing the arrow still protruding from his chest.
He shrugged, "I imagine you've still got a week or so before it claims you."
Link exhaled slowly, focusing again on his breaths. There was no reasoning with him, no arguing. His time frame was correct, but he was an idiot. If he died here, so be it; Viscen would never get what he wanted. Perhaps it would be the right thing to do.
No more words were spoken. The king took his leave and locked the metal door behind him. Link was left again in darkness. The only sound was that of his own blood dripping from his fingertips and his elbow to the stone floor. He shut his eyes tight, inviting unconsciousness to take him into its sweet embrace.
He didn't hear the pitter-patter of quiet footsteps approaching.
Ren appeared like a ghost from the shadows. Quiet as a mouse, sly as a fox. No one saw him coming, even the hero whose senses were keen. Although now, perhaps, they were quite dulled.
The boy, hunkered down low, grasped the metal bars that kept him from his father. He glanced nervously over his shoulder, seeing and hearing no one around. He looked back to the hero, and his skin crawled at the sight of him. The blood, the arrow, the slumped and defeated form of the man he'd always pictured as a god. Ren's mouth hung open awkwardly for a moment – Link still had not moved or acknowledged his presence. He wasn't... dead? Right?
"D-" he tried to call out but stopped. 'Dad' was still too weird to say.
"L-" no, 'Link' was weirder still – who called their parents by their first name?
"Hey," he resolved, his voice hushed.
Link did not respond.
"Hey," Ren tried again, adding only a hint of volume with another fearful glance behind him.
Link still did not react. Ren was getting scared.
"Hey!" he finally spoke aloud to which his father flinched.
Ren heaved a sigh of relief when his hero peered at him through pained slits. His heart dropped when he looked back down with no reception.
"Hey?" he repeated with much more concern in his tone, "I came to try and help..."
He could hear his father breathing hard, and he could hear dripping, but there was nothing else. What could he do? He couldn't break him out, couldn't unlock this door or bend these bars. He couldn't break his chains, he couldn't even wake him up. What was he thinking... there was nothing he could do. He wanted to be a hero, but some people simply weren't. He just... wasn't.
"I... don't know what to do," Ren whispered, eyes growing wet as he stared helplessly.
After an eternity, Link picked his head back up. He eyed his son strangely for a long time. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming. If he was, what did it matter? He talked to Midna all the time and she was never really there.
If he really was there, how did he manage to get in here? Link realized then that he had seen very few guards patrolling the eerie halls outside his cell. Almost an alarmingly low amount. It was strange and he knew there was some mischievous reason behind it, but he had not the strength or the energy to question it - or his son's presence - at the moment.
Ghost or not, Link spoke up.
"I'm sorry you came all this way."
His voice was hoarse but it made Ren's heart beat fast again – just hearing him speak at least let him know he was hanging on.
The boy gripped the bars tighter, his confidence waxing and waning, "What can I do? There's gotta be something!"
Link's head drooped low again. Ren watched with pain in his heart. Everything felt so strange. He held such anger and disdain at this man, but more than anything he wanted the chance to see if they could make it work. He lost his mother, the least he could do was attempt to have a relationship with his father, even if he wasn't happy with the things he'd done. After all, he was the hero – as everyone wouldn't shut up about – others needed him, too, not just his son.
"There's gotta be someone that can get you out of here," Ren thought aloud, "The queen already said she couldn't... so who?"
Link's chest squeezed as her name emerged from the darkest recesses of his mind, "Midna."
Ren furrowed his brow, "Midna? Is that a person? Who's that?"
"No point," Link sighed, the heavy breath forcing him to cough. Pain shot through his chest and he winced something awful. It made Ren flinch. Link grimaced, casting an irritated glance at the object protruding from the front of his shoulder. He collected himself and finished, "Can't get to her."
Ren's eyes narrowed as he thought, "Can't get to her?"
He contemplated, and contemplated, and contemplated. Then it dawned on him.
"Is that what you were trying to fix that portal for? Is... Midna... over there?"
All was silent.
Link breathed and at last said, "Yes."
"Then we'll figure out how to open it!" Ren exclaimed excitedly, "We'll get her, bring her here, and she can get you out!"
The hero chuckled dryly, "It isn't that simple."
Ren pushed himself to his feet with a grin, "I bet we can figure it out."
Link couldn't help but smile, too; the boy had Ilia's optimism.
"Is..." the hero croaked, licking his chapped lips, "Is everyone safe?"
"Yeah," Ren nodded – no need to mention the loss of Talo and Luda's baby yet; it would devastate him.
Link sighed in relief. He couldn't help but worry with the constant threats on his loved ones that Viscen threw out like candy.
The room was quiet again, and when he could feel Ren getting antsy to leave, Link said, "Tell Zelda it didn't work."
Ren looked confused, "What didn't work?"
"Just tell her," he rasped, "She'll understand."
Ren eyed him curiously, but he knew there was much to this man that he had yet to understand, that he would likely never even begin to fathom.
Before he could go, Link added one final thing, "Be careful. The lack of guards concerns me."
He gave his father a confident nod and whispered, "I will. I'll be back. I promise."
Link nodded in return, and was once again alone, Ren having left as quickly and quietly as he had come. It was dark, it was quiet, and he was in far too much agony to fight those inviting clutches of the deep any longer. He was out like a light.
Ren tiptoed out of the dungeon like a thief from a mansion. He was silent and cautious, and he reached sunlight with a sigh of relief. He wiped his hands down his sides and moved to blend in with the bustling crowd. His heart raced, eager to get back to Kakariko and tell everyone what he had managed to do. Taking long strides forward in ecstatic concentration, someone suddenly grabbed his arm.
He gasped at the shock, turning to the aggressor in momentary fear.
"What are you doing, kid?"
It was Ashei. He exhaled as his immediate panic dissolved.
"I snuck into the dun-"
"Sh!" the woman chastised, pulling the boy harder and thrusting him into a nearby side street, "You can't just go shouting that from town square!"
"Sorry, I-" he panted; she made him nervous.
"Have you seen Shad?" she grasped his shoulders firmly, "For Din's sake please tell me you've seen him."
"I have," he wheezed, "He's at Kakariko, he's safe."
Ashei placed a hand on her hip and the other to her forehead, throwing her gaze up to the clouds with a huff, "What an absolute idiot, yeah? He had me worried sick!"
"It's not his fault. He got kidnapped by Viscen," Ren explained.
Ashei's eyes were wide as saucers, "What! That nasty good-for-nothing wannabe king! I'll slit his throa-"
"Sh!" Ren covered her mouth with his hand which she quickly swatted away. He smirked as he repeated her prior words, "You can't just go shouting that from town square."
"Tch," she adjusted her collar, "We aren't in town square," she mumbled begrudgingly.
Ren chuckled apprehensively, still unable to read her. At last he said, "I'm going back there now, wanna come?"
"Well, wait," she said, looking around for any eavesdroppers and then lowering her voice, "What were you doing sneaking into the dungeon?"
"My dad's in there. I went to try and help."
Ashei looked confused before it dawned on her, "That must've been what all the commotion was the other day..." she muttered under her breath and then dramatized, "You mean to tell me, Mister High-and-Mighty-Big-and-Strong, the hero that saved us all, got himself locked away in the castle dungeon? You're pulling my leg, yeah?"
Ren shook his head, "Come with me, I'll fill you in on everything."
"Alright, alright. I guess I would like to give my stupid husband a scolding in person," she mused, "I'll just go make sure Telma and Auru are alright keeping Aveil for a bit."
Aveil. Ren shuddered. The girl was cute, and very sweet, but she was so overbearing – and clearly had a crush on him.
"I'll... wait here," he muttered.
Ashei shrugged, "Suit yourself."
Their return to Kakariko Village was a swift one. Ren still felt quite anxious around the tough, warrior woman – she was outspoken and blunt, and it was a personality he had yet to get used to. He liked her, though. She made him feel safe and protected, and he gathered he could learn a lot in the ways of the sword from her. Although, he didn't really know anything as it was.
He explained to her everything that had happened. The queen and princess being tossed from the waterfall and the king thinking them dead. Emeline's blindness and her new ability to peer through worlds. Viscen's arrival and his threat against Shad. Luda and Talo and the misfortune that befell their family. There were holes in Link's side of the story as no one yet knew exactly what happened at the domain that led to him being imprisoned, but they knew he was captured, and they knew they had roles to fulfill.
Ashei seemed surprised. Other than the king's quiet manipulation and political upheaval, Hyrule had found a decent amount of peace in the years following the twilight. The hero's uprooting of that evil had ushered the kingdom into an era of harmony – as much as it could, anyway.
They arrived in town the following day, and when they went to hitch their steeds outside the inn, Ren saw something that caught him off guard.
"Is that Epona?" Ashei asked, clearly just as confused, "I thought Link was back in the dungeon, yeah?"
"He is..." Ren trailed off, completely perplexed.
He tied Mila up beside his father's horse and hastened inside. To his surprise, he saw a familiar face.
"Grandpa Rusl!"
The older man turned at the sound, his weary face instantly relieved.
He sighed with open arms and his grandson embraced him, "Thank the goddesses."
"Ren!" Colin chided, "You think you can just run off without telling anyone? You scared us all to death."
"Sorry, Uncle Colin," Ren said as he released and stood tall, "But I saw my dad."
"You di-"
"Shad!" Ashei yelped as soon as she caught sight of her husband across the room, not caring that she was interrupting their slightly-more-important conversation.
"My dear!" Shad exclaimed, "You're al-"
"Don't give me that 'my dear' crap!" she yelled, closing the gap and planting her hands on her hips, "I've been worried sick, yeah? What gives!"
"I didn't exactly have a say in my departure..." Shad stammered, all eyes on him awkwardly.
"You could've written me a letter you idiot!"
The scholar twiddled his thumbs, "Well, I started to, but I got sidetracked by all the commotion going on."
He could see Zelda put a hand to her forehead and Rusl stifle laughter out of the corner of his eye.
Ashei narrowed her eyes at her husband, "You're lucky there's more pressing stuff at hand. Your little girl was scared, yeah? You inconsiderate jerk."
Before he could say another word, she gave him a look and reached into her pocket.
"Here."
He squinted down at her hands extended to him. He saw brand new glasses, and he smiled from ear to ear. He grabbed them and put them on with a happy sigh.
"Figured you might need them," she said.
All stood in silence a moment, unsure if they had permission to speak. With some nervous looks, Rusl at last spoke up.
"I knew you two would end up together," their older friend smirked.
Ashei rolled her eyes, "Gross."
Colin chuckled at the scene, but he wanted to know about his big brother.
"You saw Link, Ren?"
Ren nodded, "He's in the dungeon."
"How did you get in?" Colin asked.
Ren shrugged, "There was only, like, one guard. It was easy."
Zelda furrowed her brow in confusion. Why on Farore's green earth would Viscen only have one soldier guarding the dungeon? She didn't like it, but the conversation continued on before she could mention her discomfort.
"Is he alright?" Rusl inquired, now even more concerned about his son than he had been when he knew nothing.
Ren frowned, "He... doesn't look good."
"He is in pain," Emeline's quiet voice drew their attention from the top of the stairs. She rarely left her room, but she felt Ren's presence, and she had seen much in his absence.
"Yeah," Ren nodded, gazing up at her. He swallowed at the knot in his stomach – looking up at her like this, she almost looked like an angel.
His cheeks visibly flushed and he did his best to not let anyone notice, but Emeline saw. He could tell because she smiled.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, "He, uh – He didn't say much... He wanted me to tell you, Your Majesty," he turned toward the queen, "That... 'it didn't work.'"
Ren was confused, but Zelda looked contemplative.
"But I have no idea what he meant," Ren added after the silence.
Zelda thought for only a moment before her connection to her hero told her everything she needed to know, "The prophecy..." her voice was soft, "We were wrong about what it meant..."
"A prophecy?" Shad perked up, "Those were the pages missing from the book the old chap was combing over all those years ago?"
Zelda nodded, "Yes... We thought we had it figured out."
Rusl held up his hands, "Hold on, I don't understand. What is Link trying to do?"
Colin and Ren eyed each other anxiously. Rusl had only arrived moments before his grandson, and they had only gotten to fill him in on the basics of what was going on.
"Link is trying to open a portal," Colin explained bluntly.
Rusl instantly remembered the girl who'd claimed his son's heart all those years ago. The girl from the other world that helped keep him alive on his journey. Link was trying to get back to her. To Midna. He couldn't have forgotten her name if he'd tried – it was the strangest wake-up call to realize his world was not the only world; it was something that had stuck with him all his life.
He didn't know who else – if any – knew of Midna's origins, so he did not mention it.
"I see," was all he said.
"Father's goal is for Link to open the portal for him, as he cannot do it himself," Emeline clarified.
"Right," Zelda added, "We believed we needed to combine a piece from our world and a piece from their world together along with the Master Sword, and the way would open."
"But none save for the hero can lift the blade of evil's bane," Emeline said, descending the stairs slowly and with no trouble, "Thus father's reason for stringing him along."
Colin's brow furrowed as he remembered something, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to say it.
"But we deciphered the prophecy incorrectly..." Zelda surmised, resting her chin in her hand.
"I always knew 'prophecies' were bull, yeah?" Ashei scoffed.
"Not quite, Ashei," Shad interjected, a finger pointed in the air, "It was simply interpreted inaccurately."
Ashei rolled her eyes and the queen spoke, "It does explicitly mention sealing away darkest evil. That must mean the Master Sword, mustn't it?"
"Hmm," Shad pondered, "Why, yes, I would deduce that that part is correct."
Ren was growing bored of the conjecture, "My dad said that Midna could get him out, so let's just open the portal, get her, and she can free him."
Everyone recoiled at the name they had not heard in a lifetime.
"That's the weird girl that showed up at the end of the twilight war, yeah?" Ashei mused.
Shad nodded to his wife before turning to Ren, "That is what we are trying to do, old boy. We must first figure out how to do so."
"If the Master Sword is a vital component, then we are hopeless without the hero," Emeline said.
The scholar squinted, thinking hard, "To need what lies beyond a portal to help our friend, but needing said friend to open said portal," he chuckled nervously, "It is quite the conundrum."
"I - uh," Colin cleared his throat awkwardly, "I lifted Link's sword once."
Rusl inhaled deeply, remembering the event all those years ago and how exceptionally angry it had made the hero. Link had worried that the goddesses aimed to toy with his younger brother, and it enraged him. Perhaps they had other plans.
"Ah, yes!" Shad exclaimed, "I recall the old chap coming to the bar in quite a tizzy over it."
"Damn kid nearly split a seam," Ashei sneered.
"I tried to again," Colin admitted, "But I couldn't... I didn't tell anyone because I was embarrassed." He glanced around at those in his company in silence before adding, "I was only able to pick it up the one time."
"The blade of evil's bane..." Emeline whispered, approaching the group and walking straight toward Ren.
She reached out to him and Ren knew what to do. He grabbed her hands and held them tight. She saw the unseeable. She knew the unknowable.
"A legendary weapon... but it has a light of its own."
"The spirit of the blade!" Shad blurted excitedly, "Yes, I have read countless books on the spirit that resides within the sword. A soul that watches over the hero even in slumber."
"Yes," Emeline spoke softly, "Its light is so... so bright," her eyes shut tighter, focusing intently, "I can see it as if it is next to me. It is calling out... It longs for someone to retrieve it, to use it to help save its master."
"Ahh... yes," Shad thought aloud, "This is something I have considered before... Perhaps the spirit of the blade, although dormant, can make conscious decisions. Now, of course, the hero is the only one permitted to wield it without abandon, but... maybe..."
"It lets someone use it if it needs to. If it means saving the hero's life," Ashei added, "I remember us tossing that idea around years ago, yeah?"
"It is possible," Emeline murmured, "But we cannot hypothesize what the spirit will deem worthy, or whom."
"Surely as long as it's someone that's trying to help out my dad, it will let us pick it up, right?" Ren proclaimed, releasing the princess' hands and heading for the door, "Let's go get it!"
"Not yet," Zelda stopped him, "We now do not even know what to do with it if we are able to retrieve it. We were wrong about the prophecy – we have to start all over. Link must feel so defeated..."
"Well, can't we at least go get it and then figure it out?" Ren compromised.
"There may be monsters, Ren," Rusl said, looking sternly at his grandson before turning to his son with the same expression, "Your mother is worried, Colin."
Colin sighed, "I know, dad. I'm sorry. I'll write her a letter tonight, okay?"
Rusl exhaled just the same, "Alright, my boy. I know you want to help your big brother. We all do. Hopefully we can work together and figure this out quickly... Uli just wants you all back home."
"I know," Ren said, "I miss her pumpkin soup."
Rusl smiled, but said no more.
"We'll take the night at least, right, Ren?" Colin bargained.
Ren was torn, "You didn't see my dad. I don't want to leave him like that any longer than we have to."
Zelda approached him with a gentle touch, "I understand. I can feel his pain in my heart... But Viscen is cunning. We must be tactful and thorough in everything we do. We must have a plan."
"This stuff seems way out of my jurisdiction," Rusl stated, "I... think I'll just check on Renado and the others."
The older man took his leave, heading upstairs and into the room where the shaman sat with his daughter, her husband, and their two little ones. They were doing their best to cope with their loss together – it was just difficult. Rusl felt out of place with all the talk of prophecies, and thought maybe his old friends could benefit from a familiar presence.
They watched him go, but Shad's enthusiasm didn't allow the room to stay quiet for long.
"Read us the verse again, Your Majesty, if you please."
"I was going to ask if I could pick your brain, Shad," the queen smiled, "You want to try and decipher it now?"
"Why, yes, of course!" Shad declared, "This is all quite fascinating, and I would be elated if my knowledge could help the dear boy."
Zelda nodded, inhaled, and recalled the words like poetry, "'One of noble intentions shall combine light and twilight-'"
"That must be our dear hero and the pieces from each world respectively," Shad interjected, his brow taut with concentration, "I do not believe that is where you were incorrect. Go on."
Zelda listened intently and obliged, "'...where purest waters flow like time unending into the winding river.'"
"This, I assume, is the part you both believed to refer to Zora's Domain?" Shad asked, pacing back and forth.
"Yes," the queen nodded.
"Hm," the scholar held his chin firmly, "I do not believe it would be so literal. Waters flow, time unending, winding river... I believe these should all be metaphors."
"But where else has something that even sounds remotely close to that description?" Ashei added from the corner of the room, "Just sounds like it means a river or a lake, yeah?"
"No, it is not so plain," Shad refuted bluntly, "What is the next part?"
"'The spirit of that which seals away darkest evil-'"
"The Master Sword," Shad surmised with a quick push at his new glasses, "Continue."
"'...will shine upon the stone before time stagnates,'" Zelda concluded with a serious expression.
"That phrase refers to the prior," Shad thought aloud, now pacing more slowly, "This is the second mention of time. Purest waters flow like time unending... Shine upon the stone before time stagnates... These must be referencing a single place where time is physical."
"Pff," Ashei snorted, "There's no such place, yeah? This all sounds like such mumbo jumbo."
"There is a place," Emeline spoke up, waking Ren from his stupor.
Zelda looked at her daughter and knew, "The Temple of Time."
Shad's brow furrowed, "The Temple of Time? Why, that is said to have been lost to decay and overgrowth centuries ago."
"I see time ticking and unticking deep within a forest. Forward and reverse. Forward and reverse," Emeline almost chanted, "Past, present, and future live there together."
"That must be what it's talking about then, right?" Ren offered.
"U-Um, perhaps," Shad stammered, flabbergasted that something of such intrigue may yet still exist, "That would answer the references to time. But there still lies the mention of water, and of a stone."
"Link has travelled to all manner of places around Hyrule," Zelda muttered, "If only he were here. His knowledge would be helpful."
"I'll go back to him," Ren declared, "I'll ask him about the Temple of Time. I'll find out what we need to know."
They all at once appeared collectively concerned.
Zelda spoke, "I wish to keep you from entering that wretched place as much as possible. I can only imagine the unspeakable things Viscen may do if he caught you."
"Yes, dear boy," Shad chimed in, "The probability of you being discovered only increases the more times you sneak in."
"There's no other way without finding out what my dad knows, right?" Ren glanced around at everyone, "I can do it. No one saw me last time."
"I saw you," Ashei mumbled.
"It scares me, Ren," Colin said, leaning against the far wall, "The king isn't just some moron. He's managed to capture the toughest, smartest guy I know. It's not that I don't believe in you, I'm just scared."
Ren tried to understand, but he just couldn't relate. He didn't have anyone that looked up to him, that he pledged himself to protect. He didn't know what that felt like – all he knew was that he wanted to help, and he would do anything to that end.
"I'll be fine, Uncle Colin," Ren smiled coyly, "You worry too much."
Colin sighed and whispered, "I guess."
"I'll ride with you," Ashei said, "But let's at least stay the night, yeah? Colin's right – it's late."
Ren's shoulders slumped, "Fine, I guess."
"And no sneaking out in the middle of the night again," Colin chastised.
"Yeah, yeah," Ren muttered under his breath.
Zelda seemed like she wanted to say something, they all saw it. They waited until at last she gathered the words.
"I do not like sending you into that place," she stated with a calm, yet stern voice, "I know the desire to feel worthy compels you, but do not let it consume you."
Ren seemed slightly rattled by her warning. He did want to show his worth, more than anything. He wanted to prove to everyone he was his own person; he didn't want to live in his father's shadow anymore. At the same time, he wanted to be just like him. He wanted to do what he would do, say what he would say, but... he didn't know him. He had nothing tangible to go off of, no examples or precedents to go by – only a combination of legends told and retold and what his imagination had dreamt up all these years.
That desire, he felt, already had consumed him.
But he didn't need to admit it.
"Of course, Your Majesty."
Winding roads where merit and fragility meet.
A big thank you to the following for helping me get this chapter out there!
SonadowKokoro100, Debora, Chloe Rose, Claudia, Gabby-J, Jessie, Lotus Eater, Ivalee, Mandelbrot, Lee Glerum, Big Jake, Jacob Peachey, Francisco Hernández
You guys are amazing!
