Well it's been longer than I intended, but almost every update is. I'm sorry for that, but as compensation this chapter will be a bit longer than usual.
By the way, this chapter also includes quite a few er... 'suggestive' bits. I don't think it's enough to warrant an M rating, but let me know if you think otherwise once you're done with this chapter.
A flash of lightning heralded Cyril's arrival at the place of devastation he had sensed a cataclysmic disruption from. He had used that sense to home in on the location, and therefore did not know where he was in relation to the world, but neither did he care. He was far more interested in the devastated landscape around him... or perhaps landscape was not the proper word. After all, Cyril was surrounded by more water than land.
His Lightning Stream had deposited Cyril on top of a rather tall hill, one whose top was barely above the relatively still waters that stretched out over the horizon in every direction. Even the ground he stood on was soaked and muddy, as if it had been submerged until very recently. The water around the Sentinel of Lightning was filthy, and filled with debris from one settlement or another, or perhaps many. With the potency of the disturbance Cyril had felt, it was likely that this catastrophe had been huge.
Scanning the floodwater for any signs of life, Cyril was not surprised to find none. With a flood of this apparent magnitude, it was unlikely that anyone who had been caught in it had survived. That being said, the Sentinel's vantage point did not provide enough information about what had happened to satisfy his curiosity. He would need to investigate the area further, and that meant proceeding forward.
Unfortunately, Cyril could not walk on water, his armor was too heavy to swim in, and he wasn't eager to test his immortality against drowning. That left him with only one option, that being to hopscotch his way across the water using any floating debris that could possibly hold his weight. If there was any debris too small or light to hold him, Cyril would just have to use his speed to move properly.
Of course, the Sentinel could have easily removed his armor and swam his way forward, but Cyril wasn't eager to get soaked or leave himself unprotected in case anything unusual happened. It wouldn't do to encounter another Zanshin unprepared. After all, he was still suffering from his last fight, so it was too soon to get into another one.
Having decided on a course of action, Cyril looked around for his first stepping stone. There was a lot of broken wood floating around the water, along with the corpses of dead animals or humans, but many of them were far too small for Cyril to cross over even if he used his speed. Apparently, the sheer pressure of the flood had battered just about everything into pieces. That being the case, Eros' Sentinel had no other choice than to wait for a suitable piece of debris to float by.
That could take awhile, so Cyril crossed his arms and closed his eyes, trying to locate any residual energy from the flood. The Cycle had a certain energy about it that could be detected if one knew how to go about it. It was this energy that allowed a Sentinel to distinguish between a natural disaster and a Cycle-caused catastrophe.
Unlike the smothered dark energy that he had sensed at Wallachia Castle, Cyril had no problem sensing what was leftover here. This disaster was fresh, and by extension, the force that had caused it was as well. There was no mistaking the oppressive aura that surrounded the area... the only question left to answer was what Cyril should do with this information. He now knew that this catastrophe was caused by the Cycle, but what was he supposed to do about it? There was no indication that the Catalyst was anywhere near here, and if it was, it was likely buried under upturned sediment, hundreds of yards beneath the water.
If anything, Cyril had only come here to verify what was already obvious: he was running out of time, and sooner than he had expected. The more frequent and intense these disasters became, the closer it was to the End. Here before him was a powerful reminder of his time limit... time he was wasting watching after Amy on the road.
There was no doubt that Cyril could travel much faster without Amy tagging along. First off, he could not use his Lightning Stream on anyone other than himself, so rapid transit to any location, if he meant to stay there for an extended period of time, was not possible with Amy in tow. Secondly, the delicate girl was not suited for travel. She was a slow walker and tired easily, and Cyril was forced to move at her pace more often than he would like.
This once more brought up a controversial issue for Cyril. Was Amy worth wasting the valuable time he needed to find the Catalyst? He had told her she was precious to him... and that was true. The Sentinel of Lightning cared for the petite redhead quite deeply even after his brief time with her. But what good would that do if she, and everyone else in this world, died because he failed to accomplish his mission? What good would his efforts be then?
Content in knowing that he was alone, Cyril heaved a heavy sigh. The truth of the matter was that he was a lonely individual. Unlike his fellow Sentinels, who had been given centuries to come to terms with their isolation, Cyril had only spent a decade in Valhalla before being recalled to this realm. He had never gotten used to the isolation, or the loneliness. He had loathed nearly every moment of his time in Valhalla... and now, in what was a truly selfish manner, Cyril was unwilling to give up the companionship he had, even for the sake of his mission and the world. He simply could not bear to be alone once more.
Besides, Amy deserved better than to be abandoned by him. She was a little rough around the edges, which was rather ironic for a noble girl like her, but nevertheless Amy was a kind and sweet person: to Cyril, at least. To be honest, he had never seen Amy interact with anyone other than himself. Did she act the same way towards her father? Or the castle servants? Was she actually mean-spirited towards everyone except him? And if she was, why should Cyril be an exception?
It likely had something to do with Amy's budding feelings for him. Oh yes, he acted clueless and innocent, but Cyril was well aware of the little redhead's slowly progressing infatuation with him. His only problem was that he had no idea how to respond to it, which was why he acted as ignorant of Amy's feelings as he could. He liked Amy, of course, but not in such a way. She was but a girl of fourteen or fifteen. Cyril, on the other hand, if one counted his decade of time stasis in Valhalla, was thirty-one in a twenty-one year old's body. That left a number of inherent problems with the kind of feelings he knew Amy was beginning to foster for him.
He was obviously too old for the relationship that she was thinking of; at least it felt that way. Amy was wise beyond her years, but she was still a child and in some cases, still acted like a child. She still pouted and grumbled and complained, and although it was cute, it led Cyril to question whether or not Amy was truly ready for a relationship with anyone, never mind him. Furthermore, Cyril didn't think he would be enough to make Amy happy indefinitely, should he allow such a relationship. He could make her smile and make her blush, but he could not tell if he ever truly made her happy. Not forever, at any rate. There wasn't even a guarantee that Cyril wouldn't be recalled to Valhalla after his mission was complete. To someone as insecure about abandonment as Amy, such a thing would not go over well...
Cyril reluctantly forced his attention back to the present, to check if any suitable debris had floated by that would allow him to proceed further. Fortunately, luck had turned in his favor, and the Sentinel found several available spots that he could jump onto, and he wasted no time in doing so. As Cyril leaped from his muddy hill to a fairly sizable chunk of floating wood, he noticed that the number of lifeless bodies was increasing as well. There were far more drowned or crushed corpses floating around now, along with more domesticated animals such as cows or dogs: if Cyril had to guess, he would say that he was encountering the remains of a settlement, its remnants floating roughly together as they progressed towards some unknown grave.
Normally the sight of the dead would perturb Cyril at least slightly, but after witnessing the massacre of dozens just a few short days ago, the Sentinel was too desensitized to care much for the loss of life around him. After all, should he or his comrades fail to find the Catalyst before the End, everyone would be dead anyway. What was a few more right now?
With that in mind, Cyril continued to traverse the body-littered water by jumping from one piece of debris to another, solely focused on investigating this phenomenon further. If he could get even a little closer to the epicenter of this flood, he could get a better reading on the dark forces that controlled the Cycle. Maybe then, it would be possible for him to determine just how much closer the End was getting.
It was during those thoughts that the Sentinel noticed a slight aberration in his surroundings. Some slight movement had caught his eye, and for a moment Cyril was convinced he had imagined it. Nevertheless, he came to a stop on another large plank of wood, and looked off to the side, where he thought he had seen something. The only thing within his flawless vision was more bodies, although one of them, that looked strangely familiar, was collapsed on what was left of a wall, instead of floating about in the water. Curious, Cyril decided to make one powerful leap that would take him to the debris in question.
The individual turned out to be a dark-green haired girl, who looked soaked to the bone, and more importantly, close to freezing. A quick once-over confirmed that this girl was not only alive, but also someone Cyril recognized. It was Talim, from the Valiant Gale, back when Cyril had first entered the realm.
Realizing that the girl was close to death, Cyril began attempting to save Talim immediately, starting with the expulsion of any water within her lungs. Unfortunately, the girl's body was frail enough without Cyril's monster strength bearing down on it. That only left the option of mouth-to-mouth, which, although Cyril had no issue with it, he was not sure if Talim would feel violated by his actions.
Either way, it was necessary to save her, so Cyril was sure Talim would understand. He removed his helmet and parted the young girl's lips as he prepared to do what he could to save her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he also felt that Amy would be mad at him for this.
Pressing his mouth to Talim's, Cyril noted that her lips were far too cold, and that he would need to find a way to warm her after resuscitation, which could prove troublesome. There was nothing around with which he could start a fire, so it was likely that Cyril would have to use his own body heat. Amy probably wouldn't be happy about that either...
But it was not as if the Sentinel had a choice. He was going to attempt to save Talim regardless of what methods he had to use... besides, there was no reason that Amy had to know that any of this had transpired once he returned to her. Beginning his efforts anew, Cyril once again attempted to resuscitate the young Filipino girl before him, hoping to expunge the water that was probably fairly settled in Talim's lungs. The fact that she was still alive at all meant that she could be resuscitated, but then again, Cyril had no idea how long Talim had been in this condition...
Fortunately, Cyril's fears were for naught. After another minute or two of his impromptu aid, Talim began to cough vigorously, her body rejecting the unnatural presence of fluid in her lungs. Cyril sat back on his knees and did not interfere, knowing good and well that his help was not needed for this part, and that he might accidentally frighten Talim since it was unlikely that she was even aware of his presence yet. She was far too preoccupied at the moment to pay much attention to her surroundings.
A good five minutes was required to complete the violent expulsion of water, and soon enough the green-haired priestess was greedily gasping for air, still not taking into account the presence of another. It was at this point that Cyril decided to make himself known.
"I am glad to see that you are still among the living. I was afraid you weren't going to make it."
His unexpected voice startling her, Talim jumped a little as she snapped her gaze towards Cyril, not knowing who to expect, but certainly not him. "S-sir Sentinel? I-is that you?"
Cyril nodded. "The same."
Most of Talim's words were interrupted by gasps, but she managed to carry on regardless. "W-what... what are you doing...here?"
"I detected an anomaly in this region and came to investigate the source. I stumbled across your body a few minutes ago and was pleased to find that you were still alive, if not a little waterlogged."
Talim nodded in understanding and then nervously looked to the side. "I-I see. D-did you... um..."
Cyril caught on to Talim's meaning immediately. She was smart enough to know that he was the one to revive her. "Yes. I'm sorry if I violated your personal space, but I had no choice."
There was another nod from Talim, who blushed slightly, but the girl was quickly wracked with shivers. It was no surprise, considering how long she had been in the water, not to mention how cool the air was already. Seeing this, Cyril rose to his feet and offered a hand to the girl. "Come, we must find a place where we can warm you properly. We can discuss what has occurred later."
Too cold to really say anything at all, Talim took the offered hand and allowed Cyril to hoist her onto his back, much like he had with Amy not that long ago, and further down the line, Tira. He apparently had some sort of uncanny ability to lure girls into his arms...
Without a word to Talim and without another thought towards Tira or Amy, Cyril leaped towards another chunk of debris, planning to move far enough inland to find dry ground. But with the size of the flood, reaching such a point could take awhile, and against the cold, time was in rather short supply.
It did not take long for Amy to grow both bored and worried after Cyril had left. Not only did the town he had left her in have almost nothing of interest to do, but Cyril had already been gone for over an hour. If the man could teleport almost instantly, then surely he should have been back already? Unless he had really decided to ditch her...
The thought of it caused Amy to glare at the door across from her, the one that served as the entrance to the small little inn room she had rented. Fortunately for her, she had been prepared for something like this, and had brought along a sizable amount of money with the rest of her travel supplies. Of course, it may have been dangerous to leave a young girl like her to fend for herself while being in possession of so much money... but Amy was confident that she could handle any thugs that tried to harass her, should that happen. No, she was far more concerned about Cyril ditching her. Despite what he had said, she couldn't shake the paranoid idea of being abandoned yet again.
Kicking off her boots, Amy flopped down on the rather questionable bed this room offered, and forlornly stared up at the dull wooden ceiling with her crimson eyes. Why did people keep leaving her? Did she annoy them? Was she more of a burden than an asset? Why did her father always go off on his adventures alone? Did he not trust his daughter? Did he think she would slow him down? She was young, yes, but well beyond her years in wisdom and intelligence. She was often times even more adept than Raphael, so who was he to leave her alone in the castle?
And then there was that other man... that green-clad fool who had drawn Amy so close only to abandon her at the apex of her feelings for him. Just the thought of that bastard made Amy's blood boil. She hated Link. He had wounded her terribly, and was the root of her paranoia in her relationship with Cyril. How could he have led on someone who was, at the time, little more than a naive girl who was looking for someone to hang on to?
Of course, somewhere in the dark recesses of Amy's mind, she knew that Link had likely left because he had to, or because he had no choice, not because he wished to hurt her. But that acknowledgement was buried deep, and even years later, Amy was still too bitter about his departure to admit that Link had probably not left her for any malicious purpose.
Amy rolled over and directed her glare at a different section of the room. Was Cyril going to do the same thing? He had a very important mission to attend to, and there was no doubt that Amy was holding him back. The fact that he had been forced to leave her here was a testament to that. If anyone would had a good reason to leave, it would be Cyril. Even if he was a really kind person. After all, Link had been a kind individual as well, and he was clearly no longer around. Who was to say that Cyril would not find enough reason to leave as well?
A little sick of dampening her own spirits, Amy dug around in her bag for the one novel she had brought along for this trip; she had read it through many times, but it was her favorite, and so was content with the choice nevertheless. It was full of what Cyril had once called 'impossible romance.' A girlish fantasy that contradicted Amy's logic and realism so sharply. Of course, the girl would probably throw herself off a cliff if Cyril or anyone else ever found out about it, but nevertheless, this was her favorite book, and Amy hoped it would calm her frazzled nerves.
Deciding against starting from the beginning yet again, Amy decided to simply turn to one of her favorite sections, one that involved quite the scandalous behavior between the female protagonist and her lover. Though she would never admit it to anyone else, Amy would at least admit to herself that she was slightly perverted. For a girl approaching fifteen, that wasn't too remarkable, but Amy herself was sure that her malfestation had caused the questionable thoughts and feelings to escalate more quickly than they should have.
Not that she was displeased. In the end, it did not affect her life in any negative way: now she simply had more ways to spend her free time. Besides, it was not as if she had done anything personal since being in Cyril's presence...
Suddenly realizing that she was grouping Cyril and 'pleasure' together, Amy fought to think of anything mundane enough to distract her from the lewd thoughts that had seemingly come from nowhere. Unfortunately this tactic failed miserably, and Amy was unable to escape from the images that now clouded her mind; not that they weren't pleasing, they were merely embarrassing. Imagining another person playing with your body was always a little flustering, but the idea of someone you knew personally, especially someone like Cyril, doing the same was almost too much to bear.
But the thought of it was stuck now, and it wasn't going anywhere for a while. In fact, it would probably plague her, or if she were honest, bless her for the rest of the night, until the sudden rise of passion was dealt with. Amy was a little reluctant to do this, more so out of personal embarrassment than anything else. Was this what she was going to do while Cyril was away? Lose herself in some scandalous fantasy over him, while said man was out trying to save the world? Was she truly so obsessed and so smitten with him, and after such a short time in his company? She had of course heard of certain obsessive disorders, but she liked to think that she didn't have one.
But even so, it did not take long for Amy to admit that she was, and as soon as she had, thinking of him while indulging oneself did not seem like such a perverse concept. People did this sort of thing when they were apart from the people they were attracted to, didn't they? It was completely natural, for all intents and purposes...
As the last few feeble objections were swept away, Amy eyed the door from her bed, to make sure that it was indeed locked. It was the last guarantee she needed before losing herself to the passionate fantasy her mind had created.
Roughly fifteen minutes into the unsuccessful search for dry land, Talim's shivers had reached a concerning point. There was not a single moment in which the miserable priestess was not wracked with them, and her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. At this point, it was clear to Cyril that there was little chance of finding dry land at all; this flood had apparently been massive enough to submerge everything for miles around. If he had to travel that far, Talim would freeze. Having come to that conclusion, Cyril stopped at the next significantly large chunk of floating wood, and gently placed Talim on the thing before turning to face her.
Before he could say anything, it occurred to Cyril that he could actually see through Talim's white pants, and almost through the white underclothes beneath them, but the miserable countenance of the dark-skinned girl as she wrapped her arms around herself in a feeble attempt for warmth detracted from any questionable thoughts.
"I understand that this will likely be unpleasant for you Talim, but at this point it is unsafe to continue on before finding some way to return warmth to your body."
Talim nodded, not trusting herself to say anything with her teeth chattering as much as they were.
Cyril continued on, attempting to keep his tone emotionless to hide his own embarrassment at what was about to be proposed. "That being the case, it will be nearly impossible to do so while you are still wearing soaked clothes..."
Naive as always, Talim did not immediately realize what this entailed, but it did not take long for it to dawn on her that she would be completely exposing herself to a man. "B-b-b-but...my... y-you w-w-would s-see..."
Cyril knew it was difficult for a girl to do something like this at all, but for one like Talim, it would probably take a massive act of will. "Talim, I swear to you that I have only suggested this in your interest. If we do not deal with your temperature soon, you will freeze to death. Your clothes are saturated with cold water, and it will be monumentally more difficult to warm you with them on."
After a very brief moment of consideration, Talim nodded in understanding. She obviously felt the cold more than her companion did, and being a healer, Talim knew enough about hypothermia and how to deal with it... but still, stripping down in front of a man, especially a handsome one, was terribly embarrassing. She was actually amazed that the heat in her cheeks was not warming her by itself.
"W-w-will you... t-turn...?"
Though she did not finish her sentence, Cyril nodded and turned his back to the girl, as her request was fairly obvious. The sound of heavily soaked clothing hitting the ground soon followed Cyril's action, and it suddenly became much harder to keep his thoughts in check. He was no longer mortal, not truly, but mortal desires plagued him as always. He tried to think of this situation in a purely platonic light, but nevertheless, his mind concocted rather lewd images of the girl behind him as she undressed.
Cyril felt bad that he could not suppress such vulgar thoughts, but also allowed himself a little leeway. After all, he had been isolated from other humans for nearly a decade. The only females in Valhalla had been the hard-line nature lovers Demeter and Xandra, who Cyril was not fond of, and Eros, who he viewed as more of a motherly figure than anything else. There had been no women to think about for ten years, so Cyril found it hard to suppress more questionable thoughts now that there were. And besides, he was the Sentinel of Eros, whose primary affinity was that of love. Maybe that made attraction a bigger battle for him?
"S-sir Sentinel? I-I'm d-d-done..."
Broken out of his thoughts by Talim's dainty voice, Cyril closed his eyes before turning to face her, not only to protect her modesty but to prevent himself from doing something foolish and inappropriate. "Very well. Allow me a moment to remove my armor: I doubt my body warmth would be very effective if you attempted to receive it through metal."
There was a barely audible squeak from Talim's direction. "B-b-b-body h-heat?"
Cyril nodded, hoping he was coming across in a professional manner. "Yes. It is not only the most effective way of doing this, but also our only option, seeing as how a fire is impossible. Do not worry. I promise not to touch your-"
Cyril silenced himself as he heard something flung towards him, and out of simple reflex opened his eyes to dodge the offending object. He evaded what appeared to be Talim's soaked hat as it flew past him, and turned to look back at the girl incredulously, forgetting for a moment that she probably had no desire to be seen. Regardless, Cyril was a little slow in realizing this, and caught the sight of Talim with her arm still outstretched, revealing her rather modest, yet nevertheless cute, breasts. In all honesty, Cyril had not expected the girl to remove her underwear as well, although he should have expected her to. It was likely soaked through as well.
In a heartbeat Talim had covered herself again, blushing furiously as she did so, and Cyril remembered that he was not supposed to be looking. Unfortunately, shutting his eyes did nothing to remove the image of Talim's caramel colored skin from his mind. No, that was likely burned in forever, much to his discreet pleasure.
Still, he had to at least act remorseful. "My apologies. My absence from the world has reduced my ability to communicate effectively with others, and sometimes I say foolish things. Please forgive my mistake."
There was a muttered reply that sounded like acceptance, and Cyril turned away from the girl to retrieve her hat, which had landed on the edge of the drifting chunk of wood. He gently tossed it in the general direction of Talim's pile of clothing, before he began the process of removing his armor. Naturally, it only took a few moments, as Valhalla's net of supernatural energy vaporized the metal right off of Cyril's body in a flash of blue, leaving him only in the single layer of peasant's clothing that he had.
It briefly occurred to Cyril that he could simply offer his clothing to Talim, but he knew such a paltry defense against the cold would not be enough. Apparently, Talim did as well, because she did not mention the idea at all. Closing his eyes again, Cyril turned to face the girl before he sat down on the floating wooden wall. "Whenever you are ready, though I suggest you do not let the cold ravage you for much longer."
Talim's approach was not immediately forthcoming, but another wave of shivers and a gust of cold wind were all the incentive she needed. Besides, she knew that Cyril was only trying to help her, and that he could do nothing about the awkwardness of the situation. He was likely feeling as uncomfortable as she was...
Cyril tensed for a moment as he felt Talim sit down on his lap, careful to place her rather soft body on his leg rather than anywhere else. The Filipino girl curled into a tight ball, hugging her knees to her chest and leaning into Cyril as much as she could, and the Sentinel realized just how freezing cold Talim really was. His concern for her health banished all other thoughts from his mind, and Cyril wrapped his arms around Talim with the aim of encompassing as much of her small frame as he could.
There was a small sigh of relief from Talim as he did this, as she was no doubt grateful for the provided warmth regardless of the situation in which it was given. For this, Cyril was glad. Even in such an awkward situation, knowing that he was providing comfort and aid for someone in need was satisfying. He would just have to do his best to keep his mind where it should be...
With that goal in mind, the two relative strangers spent many minutes in silence, huddling together to generate warmth in what had been a rather warm environment not long ago. In fact, the temperature was still relatively moderate: Talim was only a victim to cold because she had been submerged in water fresh from the ocean for some time, and then left to bare the now cooler winds in soaked clothes as she was unconscious. If it were not for that, the current predicament would be non-existent.
"S-sir Sentinel?"
Talim's voice, still a little shaky from what Cyril guessed was more embarrassment than cold, roused the semi-immortal from his thoughts. "Yes?"
The young tanned girl made sure to keep her eyes averted as she spoke, lest she accidentally produce a more awkward atmosphere than already existed. "I-I just wanted to thank you for saving me..."
Cyril nodded, keeping his eyes closed. "It was no problem. I am simply glad that you are alright."
"Did you...did you perhaps see Hwang or Mina as well? Are they...?"
The questioned Sentinel shook his head in dismay. "I'm sorry. You are the only living person I have come across so far. Though neither have I seen their bodies among the dead, so their fate remains unknown. Perhaps we can search for them once you are well and your clothes are in a somewhat better state."
The mention of her clothes reminded Talim that she was indeed sitting naked in the arms of a man, and she was forced to remain silent as she fought down her now rising embarrassment. Cyril was someone she considered an ally, but in all honesty he was little more than a stranger. Overall, she had been in his presence for less than a day, and yet he already had Talim nude in his arms. He worked swiftly, she would admit.
That last thought almost made Talim laugh, but realizing that such a thought was vulgar, she inwardly berated herself for thinking it. She was supposed to maintain a semblance of purity, after all...
"Um...Sir Sentinel... w-would it be alright if you told me your name? I-it's just that, in this situation, I-I feel like I would be more comfortable if I at least knew that much about you..."
Cyril cracked one eye open to glance at the girl in his arms with curiosity, though he kept his gaze where it belonged. "I suppose I see no harm in it. My name is Cyril."
There was a moment of silence as Talim turned this information over in her mind, though it ended when she made a simple statement. "I think it's a charming name."
With a smile, Cyril nodded. A lot of girls seemed to think that.
"We're leaving? But surely there is no way you have searched this entire continent already..."
Link, Xandra, and Navi were trekking rather slowly towards what Demeter's Sentinel claimed was the shores of this continent, having told her Hylian companion that searching this land any further would be fruitless. Link protested this, if only because he could not fathom how Xandra could be sure of such a thing: how could she claim that the Catalyst was not here if she had not yet searched everywhere?
"There are no notable sources of power in this land, Link. On the other hand, I can feel many powerful forces emanating from the East, where my other fellow Sentinels have been sent. My efforts would be better spent there."
Link still had no idea how this could be proven, but ceased his argument regardless, and turned to a different topic. "Are these companions similar to you?"
With what Link could only assume was a scoff, Xandra answered. "I guarantee you that Helios and Chrysaor are nothing like me. Not only could they never compare to my beauty, but their strengths lie elsewhere. Helios is little more than a battering ram with fire, and Chrysaor is a soft-hearted idealist. Though I do find him more intriguing than either Helios or Theron..."
Link was about to press forward with more questions when the small party finally pushed pass enough brush to lay eyes on their goal: a vast reaching ocean that separated them from their destination. Link had figured that they were getting close, since the air had started to smell a little salty...
With a contented sigh, one that Link found unusual for her, Xandra swept her gaze across the ocean. "How does the breeze feel, Link?"
"Oh, ah... quite nice... I don't really know how to describe it though."
With a firm nod, the Sentinel of Wind lifted her hands to her helmet. "As useless as ever, Hylian. I suppose I'll just have to feel it for myself... I certainly hope the prolonged usage of this helmet has not damaged my hair..."
OK, so this chapter wasn't really plot-based, but there's a lot of other stuff going on for you to appreciate. After all, if Link and Xandra are coming to Europe, then Cyril and Amy are in for a not so pleasant surprise! Furthermore, you now get to spend some agonizing time waiting to figure out just what Xandra looks like. This is because I'm slightly sadistic, but hey, you'll live, right?
Anyway, enjoy this slightly longer chapter that delved deeper into the minds of our protagonists, and look forward to a more plot-centric chapter next time.