Night 4

I had never imagined I'd be so homesick in my life. Staring at the seagulls for what seemed to be an eternity, I ignored the jubilant laughter of Aryll and Maggie as they talked to Moe, his grunting and snorts of laughter unappealing to my ears. There was no telling what was happening on the outside world, no clues for us at all. No other rescue attempts came, and the loss of hope was etched into our features, though the other girls were better at hiding it.

That afternoon was dull and uninviting as well. I had given up on the birds outside our window, and had resorted to wandering around our cage. It seemed now that Moe was always the one who brought our food, and he would always loiter, starting long, dreadful conversation with the girl of no wealth. Aryll had attempted to talk to me various times, but having nothing to say, I did not answer. I felt somewhat guilty, but I did not want to talk. Maybe it was because I was afraid she'd start bawling on me like she did Maggie, upset over her brother's unclear future. I could not relate with her or comfort her in any way. I'm not that type of person.

And even still, when the moon began to rise over the horizon we could see of the sea, there was nothing. Maggie's corner of our prison held various things that Moe had given her, which she cherished. Odds and ends like an old dish, a lavishing amount of skull necklaces, and what he claimed to be a blanket for her to sleep with, though it looked like a rag that had never been washed. I had advised her not to touch it, much less sleep with it, but she had insisted, wrapping herself in the filthy thing. The little respect I had held for her had diminished significantly. I could not bring myself to look at her, wrapped in ll its ugliness.

Aryll was whom I was most worried about, and I knew that even if I wanted to go comfort her in her sleep as she cried soundlessly, I would be of no help. She needed words of kindness, things I could not give. I had never given comfort through words, but harsh scorn. Even if I attempted, I would screw up horribly, and I did not want to make her feel worse. So at night, I would watch her from my corner, wrapping myself in our tablecloth, which was infinitely cleaner than Maggie's blanket. She'd mutter "grandma", or "Link", and I'd know she was feeling far more homesick than I was.

Somehow during the days, I'd forgotten that she was younger than I, and had never been away from home. She was a mere child, and I could naught but feel extreme sorrow for her. Her loneliness was far greater than mine would ever be.

Night 5

I could not bring myself to eat that morning.

I had awoken to Aryll's depressed sobs, and I couldn't bear to sleep again that night. Perhaps I might have dreamed of her tears, or her saddened face. It did not matter, for I did not sleep after that anyway.

"I hope Moe comes early for lunch." sighed Maggie as she stuffed a loaf of bread into her mouth. She chewed mercilessly as I made a face that showed my disgust. Aryll nibbled gaily on her own loaf.

"I think the seagulls are happier today," the smallest girl said brightly, pointing to the window.

"Maybe we can throw some bread for them!" exclaimed Maggie in excitement.

"And where would they land?" I countered, finishing the rest of my bread, "The bread would fall into the water and be soiled."

"Then we'll aim better!" said Maggie, hope glittering in her round, almost bulging eyes. I squinted at her, as if asking if she were serious. But my answer came when Aryll and her both got up and headed for the window, the leftovers of their bread in their hands.

"Come watch, Mila!" Aryll said, already throwing chunks of her breakfast at odd angles. Maggie was doing the same, but their bread was disappearing rather fast. The bread they were throwing was bigger than necessary, and the birds wouldn't even go for it, unable to shove the whole crumb down their throats.

I rolled my eyes in slight frustration, getting up myself, heaving up my long gown. Strolling to the window, I stopped them both from wasting more bread by snatching it out from out of their hands.

"The pieces are too big." I muttered. My small explanation was further demonstrated as I tore off a piece of bread as small as my fingernail, and dropped it at the small ledge underneath our window. We watched as a horde of birds dove for it, recognizing it as food they were able to swallow. A smaller bird was victorious.

I dropped some more, scattering the small crumbs so there was enough for all the birds, while still having some left over. I almost smiled as I watched them flock to the bread in mobs, trying to find a nice chunk for them. It was rather peaceful, and I could hear myself almost exclaim in small delight as each piece disappeared. I would never let the others see this happiness though, whether it was my pride or shame that held me back.

Aryll smiled at me sweetly as I handed back their bread. Maggie was gawking at me as though she didn't recognize me. I almost sneered at the realization that I was almost content at that moment. I felt it was rather pathetic, wanting to feed birds…

…Yet…

As I sat back into my corner again, watching as the two girls practiced my demonstrations, I felt a small hint of a smile crawl itself onto my face, feeling a bit of freedom. I scratched my nose in wonder, hoping that Maggie hadn't spotted my expression.

It went on like that for about twenty minutes, before the doors opened again and Moe came striding in with more bread and water. He had brought more skull necklaces, which were all hanging loosely around his neck.

"Moe!" cried Maggie in glee as she rushed to greet him. He smiled widely, showing his row of perfect, pointed teeth in full.

"Brought mo' necklaces me did!" he grunted in what was supposed to sound like he was rather proud of himself.

"Oh, thank you!" said the pauper girl. She gladly took the necklaces, putting one around her neck. "I love these things!"

They chattered some more, and Aryll and I watched, as Moe seemed to blush an ugly, putrid purple, before rushing out of the room. Aryll giggled as Maggie watched him go in confusion, unsure of what just happened.

"What just happened?"

"I believe you're making another admirer." I pointed out, bringing out my fan to hide my smiling face. No one needed to know I thought the situation mildly amusing.

"REALLY?!" Maggie squealed, running over and pulling us into her tight embrace. Aryll seemed to enjoy this small moment of friendship, but I thought it rather uncomfortable. Unfortunately, neither of them picked up on it.

"I really think I'm going to marry him!"

I coughed over the rim of my fan violently, shaking my head in complete shock. "Why?" I asked incredulously. But Maggie did not seem to hear me. She merely gazed at the doors, as if hoping he would walk right back in, wanting to have another conversation.

The night felt dull after the days events, and I as I saw Aryll eye the window longingly, I closed my eyes, banishing the picture of her crying from my thoughts, before I lied down to tired temptations of sleep.

Night 6

Something was terribly off that morning. The ray of sunlight coming from the window seemed less bright, and the sky was cloudy. You could barely see the sun at all. In fact, the sky had turned miserably dark, and thunder could be heard coming at a distance. Moe didn't come today either, making Maggie slightly depressed. It was not until late afternoon when we got our first meal.

But the shocker was that it was not a creature of the night that brought it.

A rather tall man with long black robes, broad shoulders, dark, almost black skin, and a small amount of blazing red hair, did the delivery of our meal. His cruel face was set on us, and I had no idea why, but this man seemed to hover over us dangerously. I could feel the impending doom reign over us as he came to our cell.

"Good afternoon." he said in a treacherous voice. It was sickly sweet, oiled down to suppress the evilness of his natural exterior.

None of us replied though. Unconsciously, I stepped in front of Aryll, shielding her from this being of evil.

"No reply? How very rude." We still did not speak. I don't think any of us could speak…

"I am Ganon, who ordered your kidnapping." I narrowed my eyes in anger. So it was this man's fault we were here.

"Still no reply? It does not matter. I am merely looking for a someone." His eyes seemed to glint as he looked at each of us, though he could not see much of Aryll.

"Which of you is Princess Zelda?"

I blinked in surprise. Maggie turned to me with a befuddled expression, and I shrugged slightly. I looked back to Aryll, who shook her head, as though saying she had no idea who that was.

"Princess who?" asked Maggie.

"Zelda," said Ganon, "Princess of Hyrule."

"What's Hyrule?" asked Aryll, stepping aside a bit to see the man clearly.

"It is a mystical land hidden away by the Gods." Ganon answered maliciously, "Which of you is the princess?"

"None of us are a princess or named Zelda." said Maggie, stepping forward slightly, "It's none of us."

A glimmer of hope escaped through Maggie's visage. Maybe, just maybe, he'd let us go since we weren't who he was looking for.

But the hope vanished when I saw him chuckle. "There aren't many girls of your age, so it has to be one of you."

"But-" Aryll protested, but he interrupted her.

"Do not lie to me." He glanced at me, and I stepped in front of Aryll again. "You resemble her… somewhat." I hated the glint in his eye.

"I am not royalty, and my name is Mila. I. Am. Not. Princess. Zelda." I felt heat rush to my cheeks as he scoffed at my defiance. He turned to leave.

"Aren't you going to release us?" asked Maggie, "None of us are Princess Zelda!"

He chuckled again, but did not answer. He placed the food next to our cell just in arms reach, before chuckling to himself. He then left us alone.

"What was that about?" I asked, reaching for our food. I was starved. Maggie came up behind me, and she grabbed for bread as well. Aryll took her water, slipping it lightly, thought I could see her hands were trembling. She must have been angered or frightened by the man, or even both.

"You know, Mila, you could be Princess Zelda." said Maggie with a chuckle. I wanted to kick her for saying something so careless. If the man was still listening…

"Why do you think that?" I asked, biting into my late lunch.

"Well, you're pretty, blonde, and rich. You dress as extravagantly as a princess, and are as wealthy as a princess. Maybe your real name is Zelda!"

I glared at her, swallowing hard. "I'm not a princess." I felt an intense amount of emotion weave into my heart, and the main one was shame. I had once thought I was a princess, when I was very small. I had been so spoiled that it hadn't crossed my mind that I was anything but a princess. But I had learned quickly that I wasn't, even though my father treated me like one. It was then that I had become cold, harsh, and distant from others.

My ears burned from self-loathing as I recalled what the standard 'princess' would be like: kind, beautiful, smart, and rich. The checklist in my mind could check off the last three items, but I knew I was not a kind individual. I was rude. I was pessimistic. I was far from being a kind, generous, well-mannered person. It was awful to realize, but it was fact. I was not a princess. I was a spoiled brat.

"I'm far from a princess." I muttered, mostly to myself. Maggie gave me a look of concern, but I shrugged it off. I couldn't stand to admit that Maggie might be a better princess than I would ever be. I couldn't even look at Aryll, who was even more of a princess than Maggie or myself. I sauntered to my corner, where I went to the small reflective stone I had found. I could not help but make a scowl when I saw my face. The lack of sunlight had paled my complexion, and my freckles were starting to stand out. My once fine, glossy blonde hair was somewhat messy, and my curls were slightly limp.

I was vain…

I was mean…

I was arrogant…

I could not be Princess Zelda…

I couldn't be a princess at all…