A/N: It's past 4am. I haven't slept a wink. Have an update. (at least I'm on time now?)

The Light Invasion

PART II - LIFT THE LIGHT

Region by region, dungeon by dungeon, trial by trial, Link and Midna build a fragile trust.

Chapter 37 - Down with the Ship

Link tapped his charcoal against his knee. Perhaps he should be worried about smudging his trousers, but they were grubby enough after a few circums in the desert heat. Smudged trousers were nothing compared to the mocking glare of the blank page.

His drawing skills had improved considerably since his first attempts in Gerudo Desert (how he missed that night-time chill). He always had a gift for visualising things exactly in his mind, and now his sketches did a much better job at conveying it. He had redrawn Luce Prima, this time in all its vibrancy under the twilight. He had touched up his drawings of Malogra Village and the Mariana Valley too. More recently, he had done a satisfactory job drawing the piers and stalls and ships of Port Duun.

With the Tower of Tides nowhere in sight and more downtime to burn, he got more practice drawing people, too. Nova, Tuushu, Ruther, Sahn, Solaria, and many, many Midnas populated the pages. He had drawn everything to the best of his ability, and that left him with most frustrating question of all:

What should he draw now?

Because the things that were on his mind were impossible to illustrate. Namely, how to bring up the planned twilight invasion with Midna. When he first found out about it, he was resolute in his choice to discuss it with her, but that felt so far away at the time, and then he was forced to focus on the shadowbeasts and learning to sail. Only when Midna asked him about his future did that conversation he overheard in the wheat fields come crashing back. The moment to bring it up had arrived.

And Link, bearer of Courage, had taken the coward's approach. He had asked vague questions, probed Midna about what her involvement was in this wider conflict, and brought up adjacent topics like the fused shadows, instead of asking the one question he needed to:

"Did you know Zant was planning a twilight invasion?"

And what if Link did ask? He and Midna had been getting along so well lately, and it wasn't just because their quest had drawn them closer, or because they got better at communicating with each other. It was because they had dropped the subject of whoever instigated this war entirely. It was a difference of opinion they had simply forgotten about, or more likely, chosen to ignore.

So if Link so much as suggested that Fabian was provoked by the Twili to do what he did, Midna might raise her defenses and lash out. It could sour what precious little time they had left together.

But the closer they came to the light invasion's end, the sooner Link needed to arm himself with proof against Fabian.

Okay. Be brave, be strong. Say what needs to be said, and have faith that your friendship with Midna is strong enough to weather it.

"Uh, Midna?" he called.

Her head rose from his shadow. "Hmm?"

"Remember when we napped in the wheat fields?"

Midna emerged in full, sitting against the deck with her legs crossed. "Miss the moderate climate, Wolfie?"

Now that she mentioned it, yes, but he couldn't afford to lose focus. "I overheard a few farmers while you were still sleeping. Something about–"

Gold glinted up ahead. It came from several spots on the surface, closing in from where their compass led. Link walked to the bow, shaded his eyes, and squinted in the distance. Were those fins? A dozen or so, it seemed. They dipped below the water.

Midna hovered beside him. "What are you looking at, Wolfie?"

"Get the anchor." Link went to hoist the sail.

"Alright," the chain jingled under Midna's spell, "but why the rush?"

With a final tug, the sail was full again, and the boat began to drift forward as Link tied down the rope. "I just spotted Lanayru's minions." He tossed the other rope -the one that turns the sail- at Midna. "Tower shouldn't be too far away. You get us there." He fastened his sword and shield on his bare back. "I'll cover you."

"Wait." She summoned the fanged grapple, fastened the snake head around his angle, and tied the other end around the mast. "In case you fall overboard."

Link nodded. "Good thinking."

She smirked. "I know."

She pulled the rope. Caught the wind. The boat lurched forward, causing Link to stumble, but circums at sand sea had taught him how to regain and maintain balance in a beat.

He faced the bow with his back to the mast and held his sword in two hands, just as the Shade had taught him in Silva. The first hint of gold, and he'd be ready.

The first minion leapt onto the bow. With the support of its spear, it rose from its knee. A humanoid figure with flippers for feet, fins on their forearms, a crustation-like mask, and a fishlike tail extending from the back of its head. Luminescent zoras, or lumazoras, he ought to call them.

Link charged with a downward strike. Blocked by the spear. He reeled back and thrust. With a dying shriek, the lumazora burst into particles. Not so tough, were they?

Midna screeched. The boat lurched to the side. Link stumbled and whipped around. She had dodged a leaping lumazora. He only just saw its 'splash'.

Link sidled to her side.

"No!" she shouted. "You'll get hit by the sail!"

"Then make sure I don't. The lumazoras are drawing us apart. You're the target."

"Luma-what-now?" She steered the tiller, righting their route. "At least it's better than 'glowgor'."

A second lumazora leapt for Midna. He cleaved it from shoulder to waist. Midna cried out as the particles passed through her, exposing patches of grey. Link sheathed his sword, readied his shield, snatched up the rope, and tossed it to Midna.

From then on, each new leaper was bashed away by Link's shield. They 'splashed' back in the sand, where they could always leap in again. If only killing them didn't put Midna at risk.

As Link bashed away one on the right, another from the left tackled him overboard, but not completely, thanks to the grapple. His knee hung off the edge of the boat. He kept his eyes and mouth shut, resisted the urge to sneeze out the sand clogging his nostrils. Tendrils coiled around his tied leg and pulled him back on board. He scrambled to his feet, sneezing and coughing, until another leaping lumazora forced him back into the fray.

Something jet black rose over the horizon. The tower? No, it was too short, barely more than six feet, and yet the compass was pointing towards it.

"I see it!" Midna yelled. Ah, Link was too quick to judge.

An impact shook the boat. A spear had punctured the hull. The wielder wrenched it free, and sand trickled through the hole.

Midna threw the rope at Link and dove, calling upon the shadows to plug it. With Midna out of the way, Link swapped shield for sword, stood on the bench, and pulled the sail stable. They were still drifting off course. He moved the tiller with his foot.

Golden fins chased them, flanked them on each side. One curved in, dipped below the sand, and leaped after him. Link slashed, only to be rebounded by the spear. His foot slipped off the back of the boat, and accidentally pulled the sail counter to the wind. The boat slowed.

Link fumbled for footing. More spears punctured the hull, more sand poured in, and more shadows clotted the holes. His straggling leg found purchase and he adjusted the sail to catch the wind. They picked up speed again. The 'tower' was minutes away now, its narrow pier reaching out.

The four remaining, trailing fins passed the ship and curved to meet it. Two-by-two, the lumazoras leapt onto the bow. The first two pointed their spears Link's way and charged along the deck. Link bit the rope, snatched his shield, and met both strikes with a bash and a parry. Whatever the other two lumazoras onboard were doing, he couldn't spare a glance. Link countered the attacks of the adversaries as he strained to keep the sail stable with only his teeth and the crane of his neck.

Sand pooled up to his ankles, then his mid-calves. "They're destroying the plugs," Midna shouted.

Well, there wasn't much Link could do. His hands and mouth were full! But he couldn't ignore a sinking ship, and the pier was only several hundred feet away now. He could swim the distance.

Link released the rope, parried the next strike, and stabbed the culprit. The second brought down their spear. He arched back, but it slashed across his chest. He cried out, his legs gave way, and his nape crashed against the submerged bench. The spear descended. Link rolled under the tiller and scrambled to his feet. The lumazora struggled to free their spear from between the wooden panels. Link severed its head and turned to the pair of survivors near the bow, burning away the last of Midna's plugs.

The sand was above Link's knees now. The ship cruised at a chu chu's pace and sank faster.

Link stashed his shield, held his sword in two hands, and charged in. He was gonna cleave them both with the same strike. Once in range, he swung, and they backflipped off the boat.

The sand had reached his hips.

He sheathed his sword and sprung into a trudgen stroke. Something on his ankle dragged him down. The sand above muffled Midna's scream.

Link kicked and clawed desperately, but he was going down with the ship. Hot rubbery flesh kept bumping him, and spears scratched him, as if the lumazoras were as blind in the sand as he. One stroke of luck would be all it would take to skewer him, and even if they didn't, his lungs were screaming for air. What dragged him down?

The grapple. It still tethered him to the mast.

He pulled up his knee, fumbled around his ankle, and pried the snakehead open. As he kicked upwards, or what he hoped was up, his motions alerted the lumazoras, and they pierced his arms, his shoulders, his back, his ribs. He couldn't hiss in pain, couldn't gasp, couldn't scream. He couldn't do anything that would let the sand seep into his lungs, even as it seeped into his wounds.

He broke the surface, gulped for air, breathed sand, coughed and hacked. He cracked open his eyes, vision blurry, irritated by the grains. Where to go? The block loomed to his left. He kicked towards it, head above water. Gradually, his vision sharpened. The long pier drew closer, and above it, Midna waved him in with her hand of hair, her urgent cries a haze in his ears.

Two hands clamped his right ankle. Two more his left wrist. Again, he was dragged under. This time with a mouthful of sand. He writhed against his captors, right hand fumbling for his hilt. Found. Drawn. The swings were clumsy in his unfavoured hand, but he bit something by his ankle, and there was a fuzzy cry of defeat as the grip faded away. A swing at his left, and the final lumazora desolved.

He kicked for the surface again, burst above, inhaled sand, coughed, and inhaled more. The world spun around him, his treading was sluggish, and his sword was so heavy in his fading grip. He couldn't afford to lose it, but he couldn't afford to sink under again.

Familiar tendrils coiled around him, and he surrendered to their tug. They dragged him onto the grey-wood pier. On his hands and knees, he released the sword, hacked and hacked, but he couldn't dislodge the sand in his throat, and his dozen wounds were on fire.

"Oh sols, you're bleeding," Midna fretted. "I'm sorry. Tying you to the mast was a stupid idea. I'm so sorry."

No, he was fine, that tether saved him before, and he should tell her that, and he should thank her for saving him again just now. If he could just stop coughing!

At last, it settled enough for him to raise his head, to meet her worried gaze, but through her, the golden wolf crouched, and he pounced, and as the world faded away, so too did Midna and the scream of his name.

The golden wolf had been a very, very bad dog. He should've given Link a moment to catch his breath, assure Midna that he was okay, and warn her that he was about to pass out again. In the mortal plain, she could be screaming for him to wake up, shaking him with her shadow tendrils, forced to watch as his life 'faded' away.

He was lying in the mist again, dressed in his tunic and chainmail. At least this ethereal realm was a respite from his itching wounds and the sweltering heat.

Link growled as he got up. "Great timing." May his glare pierce the armour of that rusty old stalfos. "You've outdone yourself this time, truly."

"Apologies," the shade said, but he didn't sound all that sorry at all. "I was under the impression that the danger had passed."

"Barely," Link grumbled. "You need to let me go back, just for a minute. Midna needs to know I'm okay."

"The goddesses don't permit me to visit you often, Link." That was the first time the shade had used his name. It sounded odd, almost, like he couldn't tell if it was referring to him or Sera's cat, but perhaps that was just Link looking for more things to be salty about. "It has been a great privilege watching you come to care for her, but must use that as leverage. The sooner you master this technique, the sooner you may return to her."

Urgh, fine. Link nodded.

"It appears your efforts have begun to return some vigor to Twilux, but it is far too early to relax," the shade said. "Do you feel ready to earn another hidden skill to steel yourself for the forthcoming battles against more powerful foes?"

Perhaps Link should refuse. It would mean freeing Midna from her worry sooner. At the same time, though, the last hidden skill –the shield attack– had been immensely useful, turning the tide of battles that would've otherwise been his doom, from the magic blasts of Keres to the leaping lumazoras. Learning the next skill now might very well save his life and Midna's worry. Link nodded.

"Very well," the shade said, "but before we begin, I must test to ensure that you have mastered the last skill I taught you: the shield attack. Now then," he banged his shield, "come at me."

Had Link not made himself clear? "No, we learn the next skill now."

"You will do as I say or learn nothing at all," the shade sterned.

Link sighed in exasperation. So be it. He readied sword and shield and rushed in. The shade raised his defence. Link smashed through it and slashed from above. The shade smacked against the ground with a reverberating grunt.

For a moment, he didn't move. Was he dazed or amazed? That strike of Link's was powerful enough to cleave any bulblin from shoulder to hip. Oh gods, had his rush to impress knocked out the one being capable of returning him to the mortal realm?

No, the shade rose to his feet seconds later, completely unscathed. "Excellent." Was that pride in his voice? "It appears you are certainly capable of performing my lost art."

Link pointed his sword at the shade's chest. "Next skill. Now."

In response, the shade made the barest hint of a chuckle. "Very well, my third hidden skill is… the back slice. Let it be hewn into your mind."

He paced around Link. "A mere shield attack is no match for an enemy protected not just by a shield, but by a thick, full-body coat of armour." The shade knocked his fist against his breastplate and the metal rang. Link's strikes upon him thus far shouldn't have penetrated the armour at all, but logic had been lenient for the sake of their lessons thus far.

"Such enemies are often focused on guarding against frequent frontal attacks. They often leave their rear unprotected." The Shade turned around, back facing Link. Indeed, all he had to protect his back was some rusty chainmail. It wouldn't take much force to tear through it.

"That is when you jump and roll around your foe, then perform a jumping slice." The shade jumped around Link, rolled, and sprung high in a spin attack. The blade swept over Link's head, tussling a few hairs. "This is the back slice. Now try it."

Jumping and rolling, even with a sword and shield on his arms, weren't new for Link. He had taught himself more creative ways of getting around Ordon and Faron to bring a slight more excitement to his dreary life, and the kids loved it when he combined swordplay with his gymnastics.

Alas, even with that baseline, this hidden skill turned out to be the trickiest one yet. The first few attempts, he couldn't roll in a curve, and ended up out of range to attack. His spinning blade was almost a full foot from his target's spine.

The shade shook his head with a sigh. "Jump left or right to deftly circle your enemy, then swing your blade while jumping."

Link rolled his eyes and tried again. On the third retry, he got the hang of it. Jump, roll, leap into a–

A shield bashed into him. Link collapsed flat on his back, heaving for air.

"You rolled too far!" the shade scolded. "Your chance to jump and strike comes immediately before you completely circle your enemy. Remember this!"

Link groaned but got to his feet. Would be so nice to voice his many complaints with the mentor, but time spent bickering was time Midna spent out of her mind with worry.

Again and again, Link tried. Again and again, Link failed. Again and again, the shade kicked him, slashed him, bashed him, and laid Link's mistakes blunt and bare. That roll was too wonky, that jump too short, that leap too sluggish, and that strike from his sword lacked power. Each time, Link bit back snarky comebacks. The fastest way out of here was to listen, to improve upon every critique.

And then it happened: Link landed a strike. The shade sprawled on his front with a heavy grunt. Link had done it! Surely now he could go back to Midna.

The shade got to his feet, faced Link, and hummed. "You carry yourself well, but do not forget the proper timing for swinging your sword while you jump." There was always something, wasn't there?

The shade demanded that Link redo the technique until he was able to execute it successfully three times in a row. No, he was not allowed to skip it.

As Link succeeded and succeeded and failed, time mockingly crawled by. Had he been in the mortal realm, even with a well fed, watered, and rested body, he would've collapsed from exhaustion several attempts ago.

Another shield to the chest threw Link into the mist. Get up. Try again. First attempt: success. Second attempt: success. Third attempt: the one he always messed up, but not this time. Link jumped, he rolled, he sprung, and he spiralled, striking the shade onto his front.

Just as the shade began to lift himself, Link's boot shoved him down. He pointed his blade by his captive's neck, just in periphery. An empty threat in a metaphysical realm such as this, but the sentiment should still count for something.

The shade didn't struggle, or bother to fight back at all. He was perfectly relaxed in this predicament, not that it made a difference to Link. "I have nothing more to ask of you," he said, amused. "The third hidden skill, the back slice, has been passed on."

The shade had earned his freedom. Link lifted his boot, flourished his blade, and sheathed it. By then, the shade was on his knees, and Link walked to his front and offered a hand. The shade grasped it and Link raised him.

"Excellent work." He patted Link on the shoulder. "There are still four hidden skills left for you to learn."

"Four?" Link pulled his hand free. "Isn't my quest almost over?"

"Tell me," the shade began, "once you have returned the light spirits to Hyrule, do you think there will be any work left to be done?"

Well, yeah, but not that much. He was to free the light spirits, and then Midna would defeat Zant and his shadowbeasts, and with the daylight returned and the usurper defeated, Fabian wouldn't have a reason to march upon Twilux, nor could he try.

When Link returned to his realm as the liberator of light, his final task would be to prove that Fabian was behind the light invasion. He could only do that if he understood his motive: if he had the tough conversation with Midna about the planned twilight invasion.

"The light spirits will be able to prove that the Twili aren't to blame for their capture," Link said, "but I'll need to prove who is."

"And who do you suspect?" the shade asked.

The name was heavy on Link's tongue, as if the one before him was the accused himself. "Prince Fabian." He had said it out loud, and it made it so much more real, yet unbelievable at the same time. "But… I don't know for sure. I haven't asked all the right questions yet. I don't want to make assumptions like I did before, when you and I first met."

The shade hummed. "You think more like a true hero each time I speak with you, but I sense part of you hesitates to relinquish your initial beliefs. For now, that is a strength. You are willing to investigate more before you solidify your position, and by targeting your own tethers to deceit, you will know how to convince others to cut theirs." For a moment, the shade was silent. "But you cannot hesitate in your search for the truth. You must be swift, decisive, and catch them early, otherwise you will become another thread in their web of lies."

A thread? As in the prince would try to villainise Link the way he and Alexus had villainised the Twili? Good luck trying to incriminate the goddesses' chosen hero. Once Link brought back the light spirits, his name would be more than cleared; it would be as sparkling as the spirit springs.

But the shade was right in a way; Link couldn't hesitate in his investigation. Sure, it might cause another argument with Midna, or perhaps she had changed as he had, and when did they ever have a conflict they couldn't resolve?

"Thanks," said Link. "That helps."

"You are welcome," the shade said. "I will not keep you here much longer. You have more than earned your departure. Do not neglect your daily sword training between now and the time you come to learn the next skill."

Link rolled his eyes. "Cut me some slack. I've been spending most of my down time as a wolf."

The shade nodded. "That is true, but if you do not keep your skills sharp upon your return to Hyrule, then–"

"I know how biting your lectures are, thank-you very much."

"Good." With that, the scene began to fade away, and the shade's final words echoed through the white. "May we meet again."

Link's mouth was dry. His throat too, and mysteriously, they were also clear of sand. How long had he been out? He didn't feel dehydrated, aside from the strong urge to get some moisture coating his insides. Not even his hours spent sleeping under the oppressive sky had him wake up in such discomfort.

He licked his lips, but his tongue was sandpaper. His wounds were no longer so irritated, and had settled to a dull ache. The smooth texture of shadows was stretched over them. Midna had also taken off his sword, shield, pouch of charcoals, and sketchbook. The first two had been stored away, but the latter rested beside him, not that he was in any state to draw.

Link attempted to raise himself on his elbows, sweaty skin unsticking from the pier, but the pain flared. He grunted (almost) and Midna sprung from his shadow, hands urging him to slow. "Hey, hey, take it easy."

"Water…" It came out a cracked breath. Midna summoned a bottle and uncorked it for him. Link snatched it and downed it in four gulps. "More…" She complied, and that bottle was chugged too. "More…"

"No. No more." Midna snapped away the empty bottles and settled on her knees beside him. "You just drank more than a circum's worth. I only let you because I thought you were suffocating before. I had to use my shadows to clear the sand from your lungs and throat, but it took all the mucus and saliva, too."

Well, that explained a few things. He settled against the pier. "Sorry… for worrying you…" His voice was present this time, but hoarse.

Midna shook her head. "I'm just glad you're alive, and your wounds aren't bad enough to force a retreat."

A smile tugged at his lips. She refused to admit she even cared about him back at the monastery, even when it was clear she did. He owed her some explanation for his collapse. "The wolf pounced me again…"

"Urgh, you and that stupid wolf." She sighed. "Makes sense, though. You always faint the moment we reach a light spirit's lair. It's got to be more than a coincidence." She looked at him curiously. "What did you learn this time? How to not get accidentally killed by your companion?"

Link chuckled dryly and shook his head. "Back slice."

"Well, I'd love to see a demonstration, but unfortunately for me, you need rest. For the next two hours, you are forbidden from moving."

No fair! He was fine. Link whined in protest.

Midna crossed her arms and glowered. "You can sleep through it if you like. In fact, I encourage it."

So be it. With his mind in another realm, his body hadn't been able to rest properly after the circum's ordeal.

He kept Midna in his gaze as his eyelids grew heavy. Yeah, confronting her about the attempted twilight invasion was daunting, but for now he could appreciate her company, and every shape that made her her. Her long, pointy ears, cute button nose, round face, petite shoulders, small hands, wide hips, and…

Sleep stole him away from her.

A/N: Link to the Hero's Shade in this chapter: "Don't you fuck around with me again, sir!"

His sassiness surprised me in that scene, but I love it! What an icon 😂