A Note To New Readers:
Hey there! This story is currently undergoing some maintenance at the moment, and as such, what you have read up until this point may clash, be out of place or jump ahead/behind the chapters that follow. Please know that I am writing as fast as I can to rerelease these new chapters and believe me when I say that the story will be more concise and flow better, (not to mention be much more interesting from the get go). Please bear with me and enjoy nonetheless!
-Jack Knights
Voices, muffled and distant, broke through his muddled mind. He cracked open an eye, and was instantly assaulted by light. It stung, the swirling colours, making him nauseous. He groaned, and the voices died away. Something blocked out the light and he focused, momentarily on the face leaning over his own. It was old, lined deeply with white hair and black eyes. Its mouth moved, but he didn't understand. The face disappeared, only to be replaced by a much angrier one, which was red and covered in sweat. He too spoke to him, but he was too tired to try and read his lips and fell into the darkness once more.
He exited the room, trying to portray the air of nobility Ganondorf so obviously wanted him to. The handmaiden waiting patiently outside his door gasped, hiding her surprise to find the once casual doctor looking regal and deadly. She timidly stated that Ganondorf wished to see him in the dining hall. He merely nodded at her and she shied away more so. Am I really that imposing? Dagg couldn't help but wonder. Or is she merely frightened of me now? She took the lead, even though he knew the way, and set a brisk pace, her shiny black shoes clipping as tersely as her replies had been.
They stopped outside a set of wide wooden doors, which were closed at the moment. Dagg made to open them, but they swung inward of their own accord. Trying to compose himself, he turned to the servant girl and flashed her a smile.
"Thank you," he said as warmly as he could, but the girl simply curtsied quickly and headed back the way she came. Frowning, he turned back to the newly opened doors and walked inside.
The dining hall, for it really was that great a room, was currently furnished with only one long table set at the end of the room, despite being able to house twenty of similar size easily. The long windows at the back of the room were open, the dark drapes cast aside to let in the light and air. At the head of the table and directly facing him, sat Ganondorf, resting his chin on a hand. Despite the laid back slouch to the King's posture, his eyes were shining with attentiveness, never leaving the figure striding confidently into the room.
"What troubles you?" he asked, surprising Dagg. "You're frowning quite unhappily."
"I hadn't realized," he said, waving it off. His expression set into plain lines, emotionless. "You summoned me?"
"Yes, I did," Ganondorf motioned for him to take a seat next to him. "We shall be dining together this fine afternoon."
Dagg gulped. To refuse to sit next to him would surely anger the King and his neck still ached painfully. However, the idea of sitting that close to the evil man was hardly comforting. He fidgeted for a moment before swallowing his pride and taking the seat drawn up for him. He noticed Ganondorf raise an eyebrow at him in mild amusement but made no comment. The less he had to speak with the tyrant, the better.
Once Dagg was settled, Ganondorf snapped his fingers and a string of servant instantly poured into the room, setting the table, pouring rich red wine and serving food with moments of another. With a flourish of aprons, their lunch was ready and the distraction the efficient cooks provided was gone all too soon.
"Eat," Ganondorf commanded when Dagg merely stared at his empty plate. Immediately, he began to pile whatever was within his reach onto his plate, not particularly hungry for anything. It was only when he noticed his plate was full did he acknowledge what he was doing. I'm eating an afternoon meal with the tyrant King of all Hyrule, he realized. He felt like laughing and crying at the same time but did neither. Instead, he picked at his food, taking small bites of whatever he'd served for himself and washing it down with wine. If the company had been better, he might have taken notice of the splendid and tasty meal, but as it was, he barely tasted it.
Ganondorf sighed, bringing his thoughts back around. He chanced a glance at the King, who was frowning much he had been, staring a hole in the wall.
"What must I do?" he asked suddenly. Dagg blinked in surprise; the question was not what he had expected. "I give you everything a man could want; a castle to call his home, a room only outdone by my own, clothes as fine as my own. And still, you remain chagrined with me. What must I do to win your favour?"
When Dagg didn't answer, Ganondorf shook his head and snapped his fingers again. A guard strode into the room and saluted.
"Execute the chefs," he murmured. "And send the maid attending to our guest to the dungeons for a flogging."
Dagg turned to stare at him, appalled. His mouth hung open in shock and his body shook with rage. But still he remained quiet.
"Is that really necessary? You look like a half-wit fool with your mouth open like that," Ganondorf muttered, bored.
"Better a fool than a murderer!" he snapped, losing control of his temper. Ganondorf turned his red eyes on him and Dagg's anger ebbed away, only to be replaced with fear. The barely controlled rage in those crimson eyes bore into him, feeling as though it touched his very soul. He hastily got to his feet, thanked the King for the meal and strode out the room, trying to keep his composure. All the while the King's eyes followed him with unspeakable fury.
"What the hell happened to him?" a distinctly female voice asked, preoccupied, sounding underwater.
"The track had an adverse effect on him," Link heard the man defend himself. "I didn't know it would take such a toll on his body."
"I thought you said you tested it before," a scolding male with a deep rumbling voice muttered.
"I did, but no-one had such a volatile reaction."
"We must ban it then!" a shrill woman argued. "As a representative for all Hylians, him included, I say it must be so."
"Lenna, let's not be hasty," a calming man said. "Besides, you cannot speak for your brother, or the rest of us. We are a democratic organization, are we not?" a pause and then, "Then we do as we always have. We vote on it."
"I will not stand for it!" the shill woman shouted, causing Link's head to pound. He groaned, wishing she would shut up.
"Then sit down," a commanding female said. "He awakens."
Link cracked his eyes open, coming face to face with a pair of bright green eyes, which darted about, analyzing him.
"Do you have to stand so close?" he croaked, causing someone to burst into hearty laughter. The eyes backed up, belonging to a Hylian woman with fire red hair and Link noticed a large Goron was the source of the laughter.
"I told you already," the girl with pink hair from before muttered, crossing her arms, "sit down and shut up, Lenna." Beside her stood the man with black hair, the one who had stabbed him in the chest with a syringe. Link narrowed his eyes at them both, not trusting them entirely. The Hylian woman through her arms up with a huff and stalked out of the room, vowing to be back later. Link watched her go, not missing her piercing gaze.
"Thank the Goddesses," he muttered. "She was giving me a headache."
This caused the Goron in the back of the room to break out in laughter again and Link couldn't help but crack a smile at him, his jovial mood contagious. "I like him!"
"Only because he's as blunt and insensitive as you are, Gor Fostus," a woman said, stepping from the shadows. Her hair was a short cut shock of white, framing a set of heavily lidded red eyes. Her skin was akin to her hair and she wore a padded body suit. The Goron turned to her and frowned.
"Just because you are as emotionless as a Beamos…" Link heard him mutter before the girl with pink hair silenced them with a gesture.
"If you continue with your petty squabbling, then you can leave," she said, sounding more like a disapproving adult than the small child she appeared to be.
"Kore is right," the raven-haired man agreed. "Our Hylian friend here needs some peace and quiet. Please, respect that."
"Of course, Sai," she murmured, melding back into the shadows. Link blinked in surprise; she was gone, as if she hadn't really been in the room to begin with. Now that's one move I'd like to learn myself… he mused.
"I suppose I'll take my leave as well," Fostus said, shaking his head. "The younglings are clamouring for action again," he added as he went for the door. "If they don't get some soon, I'm afraid I might not be able to contain them."
"Very well, we'll see what we can do," Kore said with a sigh. When the Goron had left, she cursed, rubbing her temples. "God, I hating dealing with them. It's not but arguments and insults."
"Who were they?" Link interrupted. Sai looked at him as if just noticing he was in the room.
"They are…" he hesitated, his face going pale. He moved over to the desk throwing papers and miscellaneous objects around as he looked for something. He glanced up at his pink haired companion and shook his head. She rolled her eyes and shrugged, a silent conversation passing between the two. "Not all that important at this time."
"They seemed so," Link countered, eyeing Sai as a twinge of pain crossed his features. Kore seemed not to notice. "They certainly seem to put you on edge."
"You don't know the half of it," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Look, that information is only privy to those who have to know."
"And I don't have that right?"
"My, you catch on fast," she said with sarcasm. "Sai, I'd better get going. The caravans are due back soon and I need to make sure the paths are clear."
"Alright, go," he said without looking up. "I'll do… whatever."
She raised an eyebrow but didn't question him. Kore shrugged and with that, she turned and left, leaving Link to stare at the space she'd occupied with distaste. Sai looked up long enough to laugh wheezing slightly. "I'm sorry about her. She's eager to get things done."
"Impatient is the word you're looking for," Link corrected. Sai chuckled again, rummaging around the large desk. He suddenly heaved, coughing violently before falling to his knees. Link stood, going over to the man, draping his arm across his shoulders as he settled him back into his chair. "Sai, what is it? What's wrong?"
"I need… my case," he said between coughs and gasps. "Dark blue… buckled."
Link immediately threw everything off the table, scattering papers. There, half hidden under an encyclopaedia was the case the ailing man described. He opened it, surprised that it contained a vial of dull orange liquid.
"Give me…" Sai rasped, reaching out. Link gave the man the case, which he almost dropped in his haste to take it. With shaky hands, he downed the vial wincing at the taste. He coughed again, thumping himself on the chest. Within seconds, his pallor diminished and he leaned back in his chair, breathing deeply, eyes closed.
"Are you…" Link asked, fearful the man was unconscious.
"No, I'm not dead," he murmured, opening his eyes. He sighed and sat up straight, a look of disgust crossing his face. "God that was some awful stuff," he muttered.
"So… what in Din's name was that all about?"
"Din? Oh, no, she's got nothing to do with this," Sai said, his dry humour returning. "You've been udner lockdown, per se."
"'Lockdown?'" he asked, confused.
"More of a quarantine, if you will," Sai clarified, watching him
"What the hell for? I'm not ill!" he protested. "Look at me, I'm in good health!"
"For now, yes," Sai said evenly, reaching into a drawer and removing a flask. He unstopped it and the strong smell of gin wafted past Link's nose, making him frown in dislike. Sai offered him a swig, but he politely declined, growing impatient. The raven-haired man took a swig, his eyes widening as the alcohol no doubt burned his throat. He coughed once before shaking his head.
"What makes you think I'm fatally ill in the first place?" Link asked again when Sai grew quiet.
"I've come across it before," he said solemnly. "I can sense it within you, hiding, growing. If anyone would know, it's me."
You are not worthy of my power, a woman muttered. You are nothing like him.
Who… who are you? he called out. The darkness was impenetrable and he couldn't see. A wind picked up around his ankles and he shivered.
You're weak.
What? Who are you?
…Nothing but a scared child, the slight, feminine voice whispered.
Who are you, dammit! he shouted. There was a sigh behind him and he turned, lashing out with his fist. It sailed through the air, but never struck a thing.
Even after all this time, you still don't realize what you are, the voice muttered, growing distant. Pity… you have great potential…
Where are you going? I still haven't answered my question! he shouted, giving chase despite his lack of vision.
Your answers… lie with him…
Who, who do I need to find!
Where are you? My true vessel… she murmured instead, her presence disappearing. Sheik stopped running, surprised by the sudden pain in his back. It overwhelmed him and he fell, the floor vanishing beneath his feet. As he tumbled through space, a pinprick of light below him slowly grew until it consumed him in searing heat.
She had had a difficult time falling asleep that night; nightmares of the strange Hylian's advances mixed with the massacre she'd instigated with the Moblins two days ago and the presence that inhabited her mind. Dawn had come all too soon, as had Sid, coming to wake her for a brief breakfast before they set off. She noted that ten of the Knights—save the one Sid pointed out to be Commander Varne—were all some combination of angry, disgusted and condescending towards the half-breed.
Jaz watched him go about getting them food, either not hearing their murmurings of insults and displeasures with him or simply ignoring them and felt her heart go out to Sid. He handed her a slice of bread with a smile, balancing their share of food on the wooden plank each ate from. She thanked him and smiled back, trying to hide the sudden wave of pity that hit her. If this was what he had to suffer through every day, her life wasn't half as punishing.
They ate in relative silence, and were done with their meal quickly, packing their things away into their saddles and the caravan soon after. Jaz asked a dark-skinned Hylian, Borvo, if she could help out in anyway, but he merely laughed a short bark and told her not to worry about chipping her nails. She silently fumed over being assumed to be weak and petty, though the soldier had not implied in so many words. Sid noticed and trotted over to her as she climbed into the caravan, his brows drawn together.
"Jaz, what's wrong?" he asked. She turned to face him and her expression softened some.
"Nothing," she said all too quickly. "I'm just wary about getting in here again. My nose was nearly cut off last time when an axe fell loose."
"You can ride with me if you like," Sid offered. Jaz noticed out of the corner of her eye that Alan had been listening intently and now turned to watch them.
"Sure, alright," she breathed as her heart skipped a beat when the scarred man narrowed his eyes at her. "If it's alright, that is," she added hastily.
"Oh, I'm sure it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me not to offer if I couldn't," Sid grinned. "Besides, if the weapons come loose like you say, then it's dangerous for you to be in there while we're moving it."
And so, when they were packed and ready to go, Sid gave her a hand up onto his horse. Surprising everyone present, save the commander, she swung her leg over to the other side of the animal, sitting as they all did. If Sid had found it odd for a lady, even her, to do so, he made no comment as he mounted his stallion.