The Legend of Link:

The Bastard Prince

17. The Battle

It wasn't so much that the light was disorienting as it was blinding.

It took almost a minute for Link's eyes to adjust, for him to be able to see again. And once he could, he felt a shiver run down his spine.

He was alone in the Throne room, there was no one else there – no Ganondorf, no Alarink, no Zoelda.

No Zelda.

Hesitantly, he drew his sword from his sheath at his waist with a rusty hiss; he'd been too lazy to sharpen or clean it properly, something he was sorely wishing he had done as he surveyed the too quiet room.

Then he heard it, a small sob coming from behind him. Turning slowly, his sword point low and ready, as he had been instructed when he was first trained, he faced the sobber.

It was the Princess. His Zelda.

And she was clutching herself by the shoulders sobbing uncontrollably, her sword in her hand rather than sheathed as it had been on the jog up the stairs.

He didn't notice anything wrong with the situation. He couldn't see how the others not being there was an issue.

Everything faded away until all he saw was his Princess crying, holding onto herself while she did.

So, he called to her, sheathing his sword as he approached, a gloved hand outstretched.

It was only his years of training as a knight that saved him a cut through the middle of his left hand, a slice that ripped his glove in half and left his hand stinging though not bleeding.

A swipe that caused him to look up and stare at the girl before him, the girl who had given him purpose, who had taken him off the streets and into her Castle to be trained as her personal knight without a second thought. The girl he loved.

A Princess with a manic grin and wine-red eyes, washed out skin and visible veins. A Princess with a rapier in a hand being puppeteered by evil incarnate.

His Princess Zelda coming for him with her sword, ready to kill.

He could only hastily parry the next attack before she was striking again, causing him to jump back in surprise with a startled:

"Fuck!"

The light temporarily blinded Zoelda as she entered the room, meaning she didn't see where the others had gone. As her eyes adjusted, she couldn't even see where the light had gone; it was as dark as night in the room, leaving her even more confused.

"Alarink?" She called, her hands going to the swords at her waist and worming them loose. "Zelda? Link?"

There was no reply. The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

"…Ganon?"

The pin dropped.

Curtains flew open, letting in a white light far too bright for what she estimated to be early evening. And all she could see was a small pig in the centre of the room. The benches had been removed, stacked into a corner; the throne was empty and even in the illuminated far reaches of the arched ceiling, no pigeon was perched.

She was suspicious to say the least.

Where had her group gone? Where was Ganondorf? Where was this huge battle she was promised?

All she saw was a small black and red spotted pig, huddled up in a ball in the centre of the room.

Of course she was suspicious of it; but what could she do but call to it?

"Pig?" She whispered, her voice echoing all around the empty room alongside the one footstep she took forwards.

The pig snorted and whirled around, revealing bright red eyes and tiny tusks. A large grey cross on its forehead.

"Shit!" Zoelda shouted as the small thing ran up to her, growing in size with every step. It was almost on her as she ran up to the stacked benches in the corner, climbing up them with a speed to rival professional climbers. And a sheer number of swears per minute to rival sailors.

As soon as she reached the top of the bench pile, she jumped, trying to get out of the reach of the boar's now arm long tusks. Grabbing a hold of one of the curtains as she leaped, more than a little surprised that it held her weight, she quickly scrabbled up it. No easy task when there's a ten-foot-long, five-foot-tall boar ripping the thing to ribbons with its tusks that just narrowly avoided Zoelda's feet as she climbed ever higher.

Finally, only a few moments later, she reached the curtain pole, just as the boar ripped the rest of the fabric down.

Standing precariously on the polished – somehow – curtain pole, she looked at her surroundings and the options they presented. The roof was arched and beamed – as any roof on a room that size would have to be – and made of an easier to stand on square wood.

Weighing up whether or not she could make the few feet leap to the nearest and higher up beam as Ganon's boar's tusks got ever closer to knocking her off with each jump it made, she finally decided 'fuck it' and stood up fully, balancing as carefully as possible in her precarious position.

The boar watched with its beady red eyes, snorting as it looked at its next meal.

Zoelda ignored it as best she could and took the leap.

It was perhaps the most foolish thing she'd ever done as she hit the beam she was aiming for chest first, wrapping her arms tightly around it as she got the wind knocked out of her.

Gripping onto it for dear life, panting and smiling as the boar grunted and snorted far below her, Zoelda began laughing under her breath before muttering:

"Parkour."

Moments after arriving in the room, the blinding light died down into the dusty red and purple glow that he expected to come from through the windows of the Throne room.

What Alarink hadn't expected was to come into the room alone.

"Zo?" He called, looking every way as his eyes adjusted themselves to the dim light. "Zelda? Princess? Alarink? … 'Link'?"

No one replied. But, as he turned back to the entrance of the room - the Master Sword once again in hand, despite the fact that he hadn't managed to kill anything with it on the way up (as he had somewhat expected) - he realised he wasn't alone.

Behind him in the entry way, as motionless as statues, were the others.

'Link' and the Princess were facing one another, her face washed out and veins prominent; there was a cut across his left palm that wasn't bleeding, though clearly painful.

And Zoelda was stood on her own, her hands at her swords and her eyes staring steadily, though scared, forward. Alarink waved his hand in front of her eyes, but there was no response. From any of them.

As he approached her, planning on shaking her shoulders, he encountered another invisible barrier. One that wasn't designed to keep them out as much as it was designed to keep him from interfering.

And also to keep him in the room.

"What have you done to her-them?" He shouted to the shadow on the throne as he put his shoulder against the barrier to no avail.

A laugh. A low, evil laugh that slowly built to a crescendo of evil noise as the shadow took a step down from the throne.

"Yes, okay, I get it," Alarink said impatiently, crossing his arms. "You have enormous lungs due to being an enormous guy that means that you can laugh an enormously evil laugh. Get to the point, Ganon."

"Ganondorf." A deep voice corrected pedantically as the owner came into view. He was, indeed, Ganondorf, the demon/Gerudo king. And he was as unchanged over the two decades that had passed since Alarink's father killed him as one would expect him to be. The only difference was that an orange gem, like the one on his forehead, now covered where he had been stabbed in the chest.

"Ugh, are you one of those pedantic people?" Alarink asked sarcastically as he moved to sit on the back of one of the benches laid out in the middle of the floor, crossing one leg over the other as he put on a condescending voice. "'Uh, it's not Ganon when you're referring to the King of the Gerudos, it's actually Ganondorf.'" He affected a female condescending voice. "'Yeah, but he's not the King of the Gerudos, he's actually the Chief.'" He returned his voice to its normal sarcastic tone. "Seriously, just shut up, you're both dorfs."

"It is my name!" Ganondorf shouted at him as he stood in the middle of the room. He had no weapon in hand, looking ever so slightly awkward, as any man of his appearance does when he's not holding a weapon or beating someone over the head with one.

"You have a point there, Dorfy." Alarink said with exaggerated casualness before pointing at the others. "What have you done to them?"

"I have manipulated them to test their courage in battle. They are each being challenged in a different way, it should not kill them but-" he suddenly stopped short in his explanation, turning to look down at the lounging Twili Prince and away from the others. "-did you call me Dorfy?!"

"Yeah, figured I'd try it," He pointed at the group, or specifically Zoelda, as he confirmed, "So, she-they can't die in this mind-space/courage-test thing you've put them in and I don't need to bother with one because I already have courage thanks to my Triforce?"

"And the fact that you have a serious death wish that I would rather not exploit."

"Honestly, Dorfy dear, my death wish and the Triforce of Courage have always been interlinked."

"Don't call me that," Ganondorf asked, looking at him in anger and interest. "Why are you giving in before it has begun? I thought you would put up more of a fight, your parents certainly did."

A muscle twitched in Alarink's cheek at the mention of his parents, he could hardly be thinking about them now. "Yeah, well, I'm no hero reincarnate and I'm not as blasé as my mother is. The best I can do is come to terms with the fact that the Triforce of Courage was lodged into my body after my father died rather than being bestowed onto my spirit."

"And if someone wants to assemble the Triforce- "

"-They'd have to rip this piece free of my body. Which will subsequently kill me." Alarink spoke plainly but quickly, trying to move on from this line of discussion as he gently touched his scar. He might have come to terms with the fact that he was going to die, but he didn't have to like or discuss it with the man who would kill him. "Anyway, nothing we can do about that, so let's move on shall we. Have any tea?"

Ganondorf just stared at him, clearly not used to an opponent who would casually backchat him despite the fact that he was going to die. "How can you be so calm about this?"

"Eh," Alarink waved a hand as he stared over at Zoelda, noting how her hand was now bleeding ever so slightly with internal worry. "I've had, like, eight years to come to terms with it. And it's not like my death will accomplish nothing – if you win, I'll be known as the man who gave his Triforce shard to allow the eternal King to rule over Hyrule's savage wasteland; if they win, I'll be known as the bastard who gave his Triforce to take down Demise's human form once and for all. … Actually, scratch that; I'll be forgotten by both histories, or at best remembered only as the Bastard Prince."

"And do you side with me or them?" Asked Ganondorf intently, a frown on his brow as he tried to understand the son of the man who had murdered him.

"I'm a bi-sexual dual citizen of Hyrule and Twilight," he smiled his grin at the enemy, flashing his Twili skin as he did. "I'm not good with the whole 'choosing' thing."

As Zoelda pulled herself onto the beam, noticing a rather large and bleeding scratch from the wood on her hand as she did, she was surprised by how much fitter she'd gotten in the week at Hyrule. Obviously the horse-riding played a large part in that – one couldn't spend that long riding a horse fast without getting a little fitter – but the enforced fighting for her life had helped too.

However she got her newfound agility and strength didn't really matter that much when she was sat on a ceiling beam looking down at Ganon's boar, though. There was only so far physical strength was going to get you against a creature like that – a certain amount of cunning had to be involved too.

As she sat, shaking ever so slightly with nerves and adrenaline, she couldn't help but think about how she could have been back in her room right now. She could be sat on her bed, her new Switch in her lap and Hyrule in her palms. Instead, she was in Hyrule, in the Castle, fighting a variation of Beast Ganon.

If anyone had told her she would be doing this two weeks ago, she would… Well actually, she wouldn't have laughed. Screamed, perhaps, but not in fear in excitement that she'd get to see Hyrule, that she'd get to play a part in its history. What old Zelda didn't know that the new Zoelda did was that fighting monsters in real life, taking down evil? Not all it's made out to be.

And in the pursuit of stopping evil, it was very easy to lose someone you cared about.

As the boar snorted angrily below her, unable to find a way to reach her up in the rafters, Zoelda thought about her mother. The woman who had had her life taken away from her due to the Pestilence born from Ganon; a woman who had known the truth about Hyrule for about half her life and had sworn to protect her daughter from it all the same; her Hero out of Hyrule.

Her mother had taught her how to fight alongside her 'aunt' because they both knew she'd need it someday – they had both known she would be the Lost Twin to rid Hyrule of a physical Demise. Zelda Sr. hadn't been the most extraordinary of women, she hadn't saved any worlds and she lived her life only for her family; but her daughter would be damned if she thought she wasn't her Hero.

As Zoelda stood up, balancing carefully on the beam, she thought about Alarink, about how he could be dead right now and she couldn't know.

She thought about how he lived his life like a lunatic, not because he didn't care what other people thought, but because he knew it had an expiration date. He had moved realms as a 10-year-old because he wanted to see Hyrule, the place his father had lived; he had let bullying, assaults, insults occur almost every day of his life, and yet hadn't once considered going back home or curling into a ball in the treehouse. Not once had he let life get the better of him, no matter how hard it tried.

Alarink faced the world with a forced grin and a debaucherous attitude, never letting anything get to him because he knew he wouldn't be around long enough for any of it to matter.

Until two days go.

She had gotten to him. She had made him drop his guard, given him the chance to be truly vulnerable and allow himself to love something. She was the reason he had given into his fate, the reason he was going to die.

And every goddamned time she looked into his eyes since the desert, she had seen him give up more and more, to the point where – not thirty minutes ago – when he had told her he loved her one last time, she could see it so plainly, that look in his glazed watery eyes.

A look that said, 'I will die for you time and time again, if that's what it takes for you to live.'

She'd seen it in her parent's eyes, occasionally in Impax's and now she saw it in Alarink's.

And she sure as hell wasn't going to let that look go to waste.

The thing both British Zelda and Hyrule Zoelda had in common was their determination to save a world they thought was fictional, to make the people they loved proud and to not give them a reason to save them – because they could save themselves.

So, resolved and courageous once again, Zoelda pulled her elaborate princess-style hair out of its metal band and threw the band onto the floor, causing a clatter that alerted the boar. The creature watched as the brunette removed the scraps of fabric from around her shins and threw the shin protectors down – aiming and hitting – into its eyes. There was a blood curdling howl from the beast as its eyes were scratched by the metal.

Quickly, Zoelda coiled her heavy hair up into a bun and tied it in place with one of the scraps of fabric, momentarily wondering why she hadn't done that before. Then she turned her attention to her dress, savagely ripping the skirt off under the pathetic thigh armour attached to the belt, leaving her legs more mobile in just a pair of leggings that ended just below the knee, her sword sheathes banging against her thigh plates when she moved.

The flouncy sleeves at top of the dress were pulled off next, leaving nothing to hold her dress to her body but her cleavage and a rather loose corset. The gauntlets stayed on to protect her lower arms, but now both her previously hit upper arm and lower leg were ready to be struck again.

Though, as she pulled her sword out of their sheaths and settled her bow and quiver more comfortably, she wasn't particularly worried about getting hit now.

This was a case of her doing what everyone she'd loved had done for her her entire life; putting on a smile and being prepared to die for them.

She leaped from the beam with a war cry, her swords held high as she aimed once again for the creature's eyes.

Zoelda didn't notice she was thinking of Alarink as someone she loved until much later.

Fearing to do his Princess any serious damage, all Link could do was attack on the defensive, parrying all her strikes as she continued to come at him with the intent to kill – never making any noises as she did, her eyes wild though troubled.

As he met her blood-red eyes in the midst of another successful parry, he saw what lay beneath the wildness, the lust for blood. He saw the pain of the real Princess, the one forced to do Ganon's bidding and attacking only under his control.

As she pulled away and lunged once again, he saw the girl who had saved his life:

"Who are you?" A prettily dressed blonde girl about his age had asked him some dozen or so years ago. Her hair was braided intricately, and she wore a tiara and puffy pink dress, but carried around a teddy bear by the arm, so her status was lost on him, even with her parents standing and greeting people royally into their Castle a few feet away.

"I'm called Alarink, Miss," the little blonde waif had replied. His hair was matted and scraggly, his simple brown tunic and trousers scuffed, torn and evidently too small. He probably smelt rather bad too, seeing as he'd never had a bath in his entire life. "What are you called?"

"I'm Princess Zelda." She had said regally, lifting her chin, yet somehow still not looking down at him.

"Oh!" The boy Alarink exclaimed, moving to bow to the Princess – an awkward and stuffy bow for a homeless orphan.

"Oh, don't do that!" The Princess exclaimed, forcing him back up despite the fact that it made her hands grubby. She simply cleaned them on the front of her pretty dress before crossing them huffily over her chest, still holding her bear by the paw. "I just want to be normal, just for a day."

"You don't like that, your High-nuss." Alarink said sincerely, thinking of how much he'd give to be able to go into the Castle banquet and have a hot meal, the first of his life.

"I don't like what?" She asked confused before realising that was his way of saying she wouldn't like being normal for a day. "Oh, I wouldn't like it. Well, we can't know that for sure, can we?"

"Come with me." The boy said, extending a grubby hand to her.

It was the first time the boy who would become Link ever told the Princess to run away with him, he'd asked her many times since – even just a few nights ago when the other two were in Twilight. He'd suggested they run one last time before their fate was sealed to saving Hyrule, but she'd said no, she couldn't leave her kingdom behind.

She'd said that every time he'd suggested they run away; every time but the first.

Then, she'd taken his grubby little hand in her own clean one and they ran, dropping that teddy behind Goddess knew where. He'd barely taken her anywhere when a search party was called together and she was taken back – never having seen what a normal night for someone like him was.

The next day, while he was running away from some of the older boys who were always doing unspeakable things to him – things that could make a man mute – he ran across the teddy, dirty and mud splattered, but undeniably the Princess'.

He'd grabbed the teddy and ran straight to the Castle, asking the guards to let him in so that he could give it back to her. Obviously, they said no, they couldn't let a dirty orphan into the Castle. But then the Queen was there, coming back to the Castle after seeing a friend. She smiled down on him and took his hand, taking him in the Castle to see her daughter.

Less than an hour later, after a lot of screaming and demanding on the Princess' part, the young blonde waif known as Alarink was elected to be her own personal knight, one who would train with her to begin with before going on to train with the other knights.

In the dozen or so years that followed, Alarink had watched Zelda lose her mother, had watched her inherit the throne while her father served as regent, had watched her issue an ultimatum on the man who he had exchanged names with – had watched that man ignore it.

Link had seen his Princess go through so much and still saw her struggle every day, dealing with the loss of her father and with Alarink being an utter douche. Over the past dozen years, he had let himself fall in love with her, but only on his death bed had her father given him permission to.

And just a few days before, he had told the Princess – who was in the midst of a mental breakdown over not being able to rule, of having to fight Ganon, of her fear of losing her mind to him – that he loved her.

Sure, while someone's having a breakdown, it's perhaps not the best time to confess undying love for them, almost certainly not the right time to propose. Of course, Link was born onto the streets, his timing was awful and his mannerism hadn't entirely been lost to royal teachings.

So, as he parried yet another attack from a woman who was concealing an engagement ring in her bodice, Link came to a realisation.

He sure as hell held no Triforce, he had not the Courage of a hero, nor the Wisdom of a royal or the Power of a revolutionary; but he knew the Princess' heart.

And he was sure of how to get to it.

So he drew on all his sparing sessions with her when they were just kids, beginning to fight back against her with the tricks she'd taught him in those.

Link knew his Princess was still there behind those red eyes, he could see the flicker of her remembering all those sessions as he drew on them, playing and parrying but never touching her with his sword.

"Come with me, Princess." He said as he parried again, hoping she might just take him up on the offer.

Just one more time.

Alarink sat quietly on the back of one of the benches, one leg crossed over the other, his arms crossed nonchalantly as he watched his companions, waiting for them to return from their courage journey.

He continued to see bruises to appear on 'Link' at regular intervals, noticing that none seemed to be appearing on the Princess. Either she was attacking him and he wasn't attacking back or she was in danger and he was protecting her, he deduced.

Figuring out what the fuck was going on with Zoelda was a lot harder.

Out of nowhere, her shin guards had disappeared – between one blink and the other it seemed because he'd been watching her the entire time and hadn't seen when or where they'd gone. And her hair was now arranged into some sort of bun on top of her head that might have been fashionable in her world where they wore bright red boots, but it certainly wasn't in Hyrule. Then her skirt was torn apart and her sleeves removed, leaving her in just the bodice, belt, gauntlets and leggings.

Normally, Alarink wouldn't object to someone ripping their clothes off in front of him, but there was something wrong about seeing it happen between one blink and the next – especially with someone he loved.

He was using that word more and more over the last few days.

Love.

Just half a week ago, he couldn't even think of thinking of someone that way, but in the transition between day and night it had all changed. Now he couldn't imagine not thinking of her like that. He couldn't imagine a world where her safety wasn't his foremost thought.

And seeing her standing there, him powerless to help, was killing him more than removing the Triforce could.

It was a strange thing, unrequited love. On the one hand, you just want to see the other person happy, no matter where they are, who they're with; on the other it kills you every single day that you're without them, having to put on a smile and a brave face because you can't let them think you're hurting.

Just saying that he was going to see Ursila for one last bang last night had felt more wrong than anything he had ever said, and as he got changed into his armour in the treehouse, he couldn't help but look at the rooms with her there in his mind's eye.

He saw her asleep on the floor because she was too awkward to sleep on the bed, he saw her telling her mother's story at the table over fish stew. He went outside and saw her singing under a tree, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen at that point in his life.

And then he actually saw her, glowing radiantly as she left Faron Spring all blessed and ready to fight Ganondorf, a blanket around her shoulders to hide that stupid Triforce vest of hers.

It wasn't the being rejected that hurt, it was the need to stop talking to her after rejection, because that's what society dictates.

He would have given anything to just be able to chat it through with her, but everytime he tried, tears filled his eyes as he realised how pointless it would be.

In just an hour or so, he'd be dead, and nothing would matter anymore anyway.

Either, she'd soon be in her world again and pretending this had never happened, or she'd be with him in the land of the dead and they could make peace there. But right now, she was more out of his reach than she would be in either of the other scenarios – at least he could haunt her back in her world if he really wanted to.

"Blargh." He groaned suddenly, shaking his head. He couldn't be thinking about this kind of stuff right now, he couldn't let the silence make him melancholy.

He couldn't give in to lover's despair.

So, instead – perhaps not the best alternative, but an alternative all the same – he turned to Ganondorf, who was stood watching his courage tests with a smile, seeing things Alarink couldn't, and asked him a question.

"Yo, Dorfy," he approached the subject eloquently, knowing just how to push evil incarnate's buttons. "What happened to the Gerudos?"

"Please, Link, stop calling me that," He replied with chagrin, though Alarink being called his actual name was always an achievement. "As for the Gerudo race, I cannot say for sure."

"Wow, pretty shitty chief you were then."

"I was not aiming to be a good chief to the Gerudos, I was in it to rule evil. Not that ruling the Gerudo didn't have its perks."

"Oh ho," Alarink chuckled, rubbing his hands together. "Now we're talking. Women throwing themselves at your feet, were they?"

"Yes." Ganondorf made a disgusted look as he remembered. "It became quite tiresome after a while."

"'O Great Ganondorf, give me your seed!'" Alarink impersonated a Gerudo woman, wringing his hands together and batting his eyelashes at Ganondorf as he did.

"That is disgusting, Link."

"Well, I mean, yeah," he returned to his own sarcastic voice then. "Not far from the truth though. I've been with enough people and Zoras in my time to know how deprived they can act around royalty."

"I thought that you had left your debauchery behind," the giant said as he walked over to Zoelda, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek.

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!" Alarink shouted at him, springing to his feet and drawing the Master Sword as an almost kneejerk response.

"Pathetic," he chucked, his hand coming into contact with the invisible barrier, just shy of Zoelda's face. "You know you are not the one who will use that Sword against me."

Alarink was panting angrily as he sheathed the Sword again, glaring up at the taller red head. "I might not be, but if you try to touch her again, I'll find a way to be."

Again, Ganondorf chuckled, crossing his arms and looking down at Alarink. "Strange to see so famous a philanderer so protective of one woman who he's not even slept with."

"Yes, well," Alarink snapped quickly, crossing his own arms again as he sat back on the bench back, keeping an eye on Zoelda as he did. "We all need to change some time, don't want to stagnate, 'snot healthy."

"That may be the case, but you still fall back into old patterns when the occasion allows."

"What, you mean asking about Gerudos? That's just professional curiosity." Feeling assured enough that he could talk about previous sexual encounters without wondering about what Zoelda would think, he got more comfortable on the bench and began. "You see, a few years back now, I came across a lovely tall, dark skinned woman who said she was a survivor of the Gerudo race. Now, since the Gerudos are a rare thing nowadays, she was very eager to copulate. She said it was to repopulate her race, but I saw the look in her eye. Dirty, dirty girl she was. Really into-"

"Link," Ganondorf interrupted in an injured and angry tone. "Could you just shut the fuck up?"

AN:

Here we are, the start of the battle.

Before I started writing this chapter, I had a really hard time figuring out what I was going to do with it. I knew what I wanted to happen before and I knew what I wanted to happen after, I just couldn't figure out what was going to happen in between. Then I started writing it and ended up with this, which I absolutely love. It's a real false victory kind of situation (particularly for Zoelda), one last win before death.

And it was an opportunity to show the development of all the characters. It gave Zoelda an opportunity to be badass on her own; it's allowed Alarink to be his somewhat normal self with Ganondorf (who's really picky about his voice for no other reason than I wanted to) just one last time; it's an opportunity to finally expand on 'Link' and Princess Zelda as characters.

When I first started writing this, Link and Zelda were here for no reason other than necessity. Then I got into it, really created a backstory for 'Link' that I realised would be perfect for here. I actually liked writing their backstory so much that I'm considering writing a series of chapters of their relationship over the years just because.

But anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the end of these mini battles in the next one. I'll let you guess what happens when they come back to reality in the room with Alarink and Ganondorf, but I'd imagine you have an idea.

So, have a nice week!

~WWQ

PS. Not sure if anyone's interested, but if you are, I listen to gaming music when I write. While writing these last fiveish chapters, I listened to the "Top 200 Nintendo songs of all time" but Henriko Magnifico on Youtube, check it out if you want an idea of the kind of music I listened to while writing this. It's pretty good.