A/N: SURPRISE!
I have finally gotten the next chapter up (only took me about a year to do, but better late than never, right?). *Sighs* I'm really, really sorry for making you all wait so long for this, I really do feel bad about it. My HSC Prelim year was busy, to say the least, and during my disappearance I have had little to no time for myself (it was hell at some points; I did have a bit of an emotional breakdown towards the end of it all).
I'm going to set myself up a study timetable soon, and I plan on reserving several slots to work on this fic, so hopefully this will get updated on a regular basis from now on.
Regardless, thank you for everyone who has stuck with me and waited ever-so patiently for this next chapter. I really do appreciate it, and as cheesy as this sounds I cannot completely express my appreciation for you guys (and girls, if you don't like being referred to as 'guy') with words alone. Thank you!
As usual, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! I love hearing your thoughts on what's happened so far, so feel free to make any comments/reviews!
And without further adieu, I give you the newest chapter of Entwined Destinies!
Edits:
- Minor grammatical, formatting and phrasing corrections
Chapter 8 – Your Move
The dragon stared idly at the icy stalactite, his mind devoid of thought and face portraying no real emotion. Every so often, his vision would be obscured by his misty breath, which would rise and hang in the air for a moment or two before dissolving into the surrounding space. Watching the condensed air swirl and morph into strange shapes had proved entertaining for a short while, but the novelty of it soon wore off, leaving the dragon with nothing to do but wait.
And he hated waiting.
Especially when he could be making better use of himself elsewhere.
A frown played across Spyro's face, turning his previously blank expression into an image of frustration. So far, nothing had disturbed the icy halls of Cyril's home, leaving the young dragon doubtful at the thought of any intruders coming to attack him and his charge. The Hylian had done nothing to help ease the dragon's sense of uselessness either, sleeping soundly since the search partly had left.
Drumming his talons on the frozen floor, the purple dragon moved his gaze around the room, searching for something to do that would either help Cyril out in some manner or prove to be mildly entertaining. He scrutinized the contents of the room, but it wasn't long before his gaze fell back to the icy stalactite that he'd been staring at earlier. A mischievous grin pulled at the dragon's lips as a small thought occurred to him, and, even though it wouldn't necessarily prove helpful to Cyril, it would certainly keep the dragon occupied for a short period of time. Not to mention it would help siphon off some of the dragon's excess magic and frustration.
Purple irises locked onto the icicle, and the dragon's misty breath began to turn smoky. Spyro focused, tapping in to his supernatural energies and stoking the fires that burned deep within him. He shot a small, experimental flame from the corner of his mouth, watching as it curled and licked at the air. Satisfied, the dragon drew in a deep breath and readied himself. That icicle would not be there for long.
A torrent of fire burst from the dragon's mouth, its heated flames racing towards the ceiling, ready to strike without mercy. The ice fizzled as the dragonish fires made contact with its frozen form, the unmoving water hissing angrily as fiery tongues licked hungrily at its surface. Water began to run down the contours of the icicle, reflecting the orange glow of the dragon's relentless flames. Steam rose and water fell as the fires continued to rain upon the ice.
With one last huff, Spyro released the final flame, which, to his apparent disappointment, fell short of its target. The dragon looked over the now sad excuse for an icicle, which had been reduced to a pitiful stub that protruded from the ceiling. The ice continued to hiss and sizzle quietly, while droplets of water slid down the icy stub and fell to the ground at a slow, steady pace. Some of the ice around the stub had also melted, leaving a rather large cavity in the ceiling that Cyril would surely notice (and probably not appreciate) upon his return.
Releasing a quiet sigh, the dragon shifted his gaze towards his charge, who had, thankfully, remained asleep during Spyro's little display. He looked over the sleeping creature again, creating gashes in the ice at his paws as he scratched at it absentmindedly. The Hylian had hardly moved throughout the duration of Spyro's stay, which the dragon had considered normal for someone as ill as he was. Not bothering to give the subject a second thought, the dragon returned to gazing emptily at the icy cavern.
It wasn't until after a short period of nothingness that Spyro realized how tired he was, and an abrupt wave of weariness washed over his scaly body. Seeing as there was little he could do to help, he rested his head on his paws and allowed his eyes to droop. His eyes grew heavy, and just before sleep claimed his being he noticed the slight shifting of covers in front of him.
Despite the severity of the situation, the creature held himself at full height, beady eyes locked on to the figure before him. The figure sat on a throne of sorts, slouching to the left as he supported his head with an armored hand. Not a single word had escaped the figure's lips since the creature had been brought before him; he had simply watched the creature with a calculating gaze, smiling slightly as he sensed the creature begin to squirm under the foreboding suspense. Intense golden irises bored into the creature, patiently waiting for its confident façade to collapse.
To show fear is to show weakness, and weakness is something that I have little tolerance for.
The words echoed through the bulblin's mind, forcing him to keep his eyes trained on his superior. His recent failure had cost his master greatly, and having witnessed his wrath before gave him every right to be fearful of the figure's next words. Despite this, the bulblin dared not to allow any emotion seep into his expression.
It was a test of his resolve, and if he were to fail this test his master would surely smite him were he stood.
A few more minutes trickled by, almost at an unbearable pace.
"…You do realize that you're mistake has cost me."
The sudden rumble of his master's voice almost startled the bulblin. Almost.
"Yes, my lord."
The figure waited for the bulblin to continue, sitting in silence for a few moments. The lack of its petty excuses irked him somewhat, and his waning patience urged him to prompt the worthless creature before him to elaborate upon its misadventure. After all, the messenger hadn't fully delivered news of the event before his anger had gotten the better of him.
A slight expression of dry mirth fell over the figure's face. "Explain yourself."
"We were attacked, my lord. We practically had them; the boy had been poisoned by one of our archers and was on the verge of succumbing to its effects, and the girl had been injured by one of our troops."
The figure watched as the bulblin paused for a moment. He watched as the creature gathered its thoughts, a hint of hesitation reflecting in its beady eyes.
After drawing in a quick breath, it continued, "Before we could fully intercept them, there was a blue flash of light, and a large creature appeared. It-"
Curiosity piqued, the figure cut in. "What sort of creature?"
"I'm not entirely sure, my lord, but it appeared to be some kind of large, blue, winged reptilian, for the lack of a better description."
"…Continue."
"Very well my lord. The creature attacked us, injuring and killing several of our troops before disappearing in a flash of blue light, just as it had arrived. We attempted to apprehend it for later examination, but the sheer size and power of the beast outmatched the strength we held in numbers."
The figure didn't bother to conceal his skepticism, allowing it to contort his expression into a look of amused doubt; after all, this was by far the most imaginative excuse that his dim-witted minions had managed to conjure, either in a hopeless attempt to soothe his anger or to save their own hides. Regardless of their intentions, he could see little truth in the bulblin's story.
"My men can confirm the creature's existence, my lord." The bulblin said, carefully reading his master's expression. "We even have the bodies of those who were mauled by the beast, if you wish to see the evidence."
"How do I know that you have not simply provoked another creature into attacking the bodies to make them appear as if something else had killed them?"
Do not abandon your post or your purpose, for those who do will face a punishment worse than death. This I can assure you.
The words haunted the bulblin's mind; it was another warning.
"The bite and claw marks on their bodies are unique, Master. They fail to match any of the creatures that roam the fields of your land."
The figure smiled; not out of joy, nor of the relief that his minion was indeed being honest, but of the dry satisfaction he felt towards the bulblin's unwavering demeanor. He had showed no fear and commitment in the delivery of his report; something that those who had stood in the same chamber before him had failed to maintain.
"Very well then. What of the Hylians?"
"Gone; the beast took them as it fled."
The words seemed to hover around the room, echoing its torment to all that stood within the vast, empty space. The figure finally drew his eyes away from the bulblin, lowering them to the ground in thought. A few moments trickled by.
"What of the 'Hero's' mare?" the figure uttered, practically spitting as he pronounced the title of the young man who he had failed to see as a threat for far too long; a foolish mistake that had done far more damage than it should have.
"The beast didn't take it. It's still probably wandering Hyrule Field, looking for her master, my lord," the bulblin replied, curious as to way his master was asking such an obscure question.
"Find it and capture it. I'm sure that the 'Hero' will be missing that infernal creature dearly upon his return, and if there is no sign of him by the next half-moon you are free to do as you wish with it," the figure ordered, an air of nonchalance surrounding his voice. "You are dismissed."
"Thank you, Lord Ganondorf," the bulblin replied, lowering itself into a deep bow. It turned around and began to move towards the room's only exit, relief already washing over him. As he approached the large double-doors, the sound of his master's voice resonated within the chamber, a dark undertone lacing his words as they reached the bulblin's ears.
"Do not think for a moment that you are forgiven for your insolence. The only thing that has kept you alive today was your resolve; if you had faltered, even for a moment, I would have seen to it that your blood painted this very room crimson. Fail me in this task, and I assure you that I will not be giving you any chance for redemption."
"Yes, my lord."
"I told you he would interfere soon."
An irritated frown fell across the figure's face as the voice reached his ears: soft and smooth, laced with a subtle, snide tone that rarely failed to present itself within his words.
So much for taking a few moments alone to regain one's composure.
"I thought I took care of you two days ago."
"Ah, well you see…" the intruder began, shifting from his position against the wall. He took a few steps towards the armored man before him, who was still to provide him with the courtesy of facing him. He grinned, sensing an influx of annoyance within the other man as he approached, "… it takes a little more than an incineration spell and that molten forge of yours get rid of me"
The armored figure sighed and finally faced the intruder, angry golden irises boring into those of the intruder, who was garbed in black with a hood drawn over his face, hiding his features. The armored man didn't need to see his face to tell that he was smiling.
"What is it that you want, Tamaldran?"
The intruder laughed. "Well, other than to say 'I told you so', I have little more to say."
"No aimless fool would return to my domain after being cast out of it and into the molten earth below for the third time," Ganondorf growled. "I know better than to think that someone such as yourself would return to me without a purpose."
"And what if I have? What if I returned here simply to spite you over your troops' most recent… misadventure." Tamaldran replied, his snide tone making itself prominent in his insult.
"Because such a senseless goal would not yield a big enough reward for you, considering the amount of time and energy taken to achieve it. Would I be correct in saying so?"
"Ah, you know me too well, Ganondorf." The intruder said, taking a few steps towards an open window. Hidden eyes scanned across the desolate and dying land before him; it was hard to imagine the reason as to why his armored acquaintance was so bent on claiming it as his, even in such a horrid state. He sensed the other man take a few steps towards him, patiently waiting for him to elaborate upon his sudden and evidently unwelcome appearance.
"I warned you that he would intervene soon," Tamaldran said, all traces of his usual snideness gone.
"So you said," Ganondorf replied. "And I suppose the creature that the bulblin spoke of during his report had something to do with it?"
"That it did," the intruder replied, still staring out of the open window, not bothering to face his acquaintance. "In fact, the creature's arrival would have been a result of his actions."
"What actions?"
"Of that I am not sure, but based on the description of its appearance that that bulblin provided you with, I'd have to say the creature brought itself here, after being prompted to do so."
Ganondorf's eyes fell to the floor, his temper rising slightly at the information. "What, exactly, was that infernal creature?"
Tamaldran gave a mirthless laugh, still not removing his gaze from the open window. "A dragon, no doubt, however this was no ordinary dragon that your troops encountered."
"Dragons no longer exist here."
"Not that you're aware of," Tamaldran replied, finally facing the man, a nonchalant tone briefly occupying his voice. "Besides, this particular beast is not native to Hyrule."
Ganondorf simply stared at the hooded man, his irritable expression demanding for him to further elaborate. Tamaldran sighed, returning his gaze to the dying landscape, the scenery neatly framed by the open window.
"This dragon is not of this world; he reigns from another realm, completely different to this one and inaccessible to any ordinary mortal. He is a guardian of sorts, spending his days watching and recording the events of his own realm, and evidently those of this realm as well. His existence is known by only a handful of souls, and those that do know of him refer to him as 'The Chronicler'."
"And what exactly does this 'Chronicler' want with the princess and 'Hero'?"
"Nothing, as far as I can tell, simply to rescue them from your bulblins, although I do not believe he would've done so without prior knowledge of the ambush. That creature has access to a huge store of information; it wouldn't surprise me if Liathri has subtly provided him with some sort of foresight into what has passed."
"…So what do we do next? If Liathri is indeed beginning to work against us, how can we stop him?!"
The question forced Tamaldran to face Ganondorf once again, raising his head slightly as he contemplated his answer.
"If Liathri wishes to drag another world into the affairs of this one, than we shall assist him in doing so."
"And how is that going to help us?!" the armored man replied, his tone livid and expression incredulous. "I have come too far to have my plans destroyed by an insolent fool who is yet to reveal himself to me!"
"Calm yourself. I am not planning to do so in such a way that will ruin all you've worked for; we made a deal, remember?"
Ganondorf didn't offer a response to the hooded man's question. He simply stared at him, golden irises ablaze with fury.
"Liathri is not the only one with connections to the other realms," Tamaldran paused, making sure that he had the other man's full attention. "Unfortunately, mine are… a little less than animated, at this present time, and there are certain rules that prevent me from changing this." He paused again, taking a moment to observe the calculating gaze that Ganondorf was giving him.
"And what is it that you want me to do about it?" the armored man inquired, still somewhat irked at Tamaldran's earlier suggestion.
Tamaldran smiled. "I'm going to be quite blatant with you, Ganondorf; I want you to revive my connections to the Dragon Realms. If you succeed, I shall provide you with an ally whose power is equal to your own and I will personally ensure that he remains loyal to you and your cause."
"How do I know that this isn't some sort of ploy intended to dispose of me?"
"If I had wanted to get rid of you I would've done so long before now. Besides, I have nothing to gain from your death. Only Liathri would make some gain from your death, and we wouldn't want him to get the upper hand, now would we?"
Golden irises remained on the hooded man, the churning of thoughts evident in their subtle glow. Ganondorf shifted his gaze to the window, taking in all that he had worked so hard to achieve; all that could be taken away from him by a certain Hylian if he was left unattended.
"Very well then, I will help you. What is it that you want me to do?"
The hooded man made his sneer visible from beneath the shadows of his hood. "I shall take you to the place where my final connection was severed; where your new ally rests. There you are to spill the life's blood of your sworn enemy and smear it across the ground. Channel your energy into the earth, split its core and release him and all of his fury."
Ganondorf opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but was cut off as Tamaldran answered his unspoken troubles.
"Do not fret; the 'Hero' will be there, I assure you. He too has business there."
The armored man nodded, fully accepting his task.
Tamaldran smiled.
Your move, Liathri.