I'm back! Early! I'm happy! I actually got some sleep, I feel better than I did last time, life's lookin' up. Anyway, here you go. The next chapter in this crappy arc. Watch out, its long, and might be a little confusing. Idk...
Also, the italics are a flashback, in case it confuses anyone.
Glass Hearts Break Easy
She raced up the dirt stairs, feet pounding as hard as her heart was hammering against her chest. She couldn't loose that pendant. It was the last thing she had of her mother. When her mother had been killed, the ranch had been burnt to the ground, and when her father had returned with her, and her sister Cremia, nothing had been left untouched by the fire's cruel, deadly touch. They had had to rebuild everything, and everything that her mother had owned had been burnt into nothing.
So she wasn't about to lose the pendant to a panther, and at the moment, with her lack of sleep, and the shadow Zauz's fierce, hungering gaze burnt permanently into her mind, she recklessly raced after the huge predator, back above ground and through the palace ruins, path lit only by the light of the full moon that loomed overhead with a haunting air. The panther was not only larger than the average, but seemed to be faster, too, zooming through the ruins at a pace that seemed too quick to even be physically possible.
It seemed to be nothing more than a streak of shining ebony fur racing through the darkness of the late night, leaping over the rubble and racing into the thick foliage that lay beyond the wastes. If she listened carefully, she could hear faint footfalls behind her, but she was too concentrated on the panther, trying desperately to keep her eyes trained on the bolting figure of the beast.
But just before she feared that it would disappear beyond the layer of thick vegetation, it suddenly pulled to a halt, stopping just before the underbrush, shoulders still arched, ever muscle ready to burst into action at the slightest prompting, but its head swiveled around toward her, yellow eyes trained on her, watching as she drew nearer, the wooden pendant still dangling from its clamped-shut jaw.
As soon as she drew near, the panther started off again, bursting through the underbrush as soon as she caught up. The stop and go pace continued on for several minutes, the panther leading the way, stopping just before it would race out of sight and wait for her to catch up. It either wanted her to follow it, or it was teasing her.
She wasn't sure which.
She never once glanced back, never looking to see the face of whoever was following her, but by the sound of soft footsteps, and quiet breathing that it was the teenage girl.
The panther led her deeper and deeper into the forest, always changing directions when she least expected it, but never letting her fall too far behind. The path it led seemed completely arbitrary, zigzagging every which way in a mind-boggling maze over fallen logs and under low hanging branches and through thick thorny brambles that left red, aching scratches on her skin as she followed, as if reminders that she was still human.
The panther seemed not to notice the thorns, or otherwise did not care.
Just when her mind began to wander, and suspicious thoughts began to worm their way into the back of her mind, making her start to doubt her choice, making her feel somewhat foolish for racing, foolhardy, after a gigantic predator just to retrieve a trinket that was hardly worth a single rupee, the panther led her through the thickest patch of bramble yet. And what she saw when she opened her eyes again, detaching herself from the sticky fingers of the thorns, she could hardly believe.
It was a clearing, where the thick, tendril-like canopy of willow branches parted above her, allowing the light of the full moon the filter down from the black velvet sky above and glimmer against the crystal clear pond at the center.
A few lily pads floated on the waters surface, but otherwise, the water was some of the clearest Malon had ever seen in her life. At the opposite side of the pond, a granite statue stood, resting on a pedestal, around which shallow water ebbed.
The statue depicted what Malon suspected was a young woman, standing with a wide, powerful stance, both hands resting on the hilt of a sword, tip buried into the ground. On her shoulders, heavy armor rested, and her hair, although made of stone, had been crafted so elegantly that it seemed to be caught in the middle of a gust of wind. If the statue hadn't been made of a single-hued stone, she would have thought that the woman was real.
The panther stalked smoothly around the edge of the pond, soft chortling noises yet again coming from deep inside its solid throat as it swung around the statue several times. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn the beast was purring as it butted its head against the hard backs of the statue's hands.
"I thought this was only a myth!" A young, but vaguely familiar voice said from just behind her. She tipped her head toward the person, and finally saw that her suspicions had been correct. It was in fact the teenage girl. Her brownish-green eyes were even wider than her's had originally been, and inside the depressed irises, child-like wonder sparkled for the first time. She looked at the clearing with her mouth agape, hands dropping to her sides.
"Human of foreign blood," the ethereal voice said again. For a moment she believed it was only in her head, but when the teenage girl snapped to attention as well, she realized that the panther had spoken aloud. "Do you have any idea what this place is?"
"This place is-" The teenage girl started to answer for her, but the panther spat a quick growl of warning, silencing her.
"No, do not answer for her. Let her guess."
Malon looked closer at the statue. Although it was in a script that she could not read, there was writing at the bottom of the statue, below the woman's feet.
"This place is a grave."
The panther snorted, somewhat conceitedly.
"You may not be one of my people, but you do seem to have a bit of brain. This place memorializes a woman named Katurah. She long ago saved the people of this place, the Southern Swamp. I long ago fought by her side, since then she has passed, many years ago. I remain, and guard her final resting place." The beast murmured. It suddenly threw its head toward them, opening its mouth and flinging the Gerudo Pendant back to her. "Why would you follow me for such a simple item?"
She grabbed the pendant in the air, and clutched it close to her chest the minute she felt her fingers wrap around the comforting wood.
"It was my mother's."
"Do you know why I brought you here?"
She shook her head.
"Long ago, a demon came about, and threatened my kingdom. Katurah rose up from a terrible past and single-handedly saved this place from the demon's plight. But now my strength grows weaker, and I cannot battle as I used to," the panther walked back toward them, the teenage girl backing away slightly while she held her ground. "I need another warrior. I need you."
The panther's words hit her like a brick wall, and she suddenly took a step back.
"Me? No, I mean, I can't fight."
"I can see your past. You have strength, and you have watched your husband train. You can fight."
She stared at the beast as it stopped momentarily beside a rock. Quizzically, she watched as the beast pushed it aside with a single swipe of a massive paw, unveiling the ground below. Long hidden beneath the stone, neatly folded, was a mahogany tunic made of velvety fabric, dirt clinging to several bits of the cloth. And when the panther gathered it up in its jaw, just like it had done with her pendant, uncovered the blade of a sword.
"Why should I help you?" Malon said boldly, watching as the beast looked up at her.
"Because if you don't, you will never leave, and your friend will die."
"Is that a threat?"
A wicked grin curled across the panther's lips.
"Of course not. I merely speak the truth."
"I understand that McKenna is poisoned, but what would stop me from leaving? Last time I checked my legs still work."
"I can see that. But that demon has since created a powerful mist that prevents anyone from entering or exiting. I'm afraid you're trapped. Either you fight, or you die."
"Why do you want me? Why couldn't it be that boy I met earlier?"
The panther dropped the tunic at her feet, and after a glance more, turned.
"Because that boy has no fire. He has used it all up. But you," it turned again, looking at her like an experienced horseman would look over a potential purchase. "There is a flame burning in you. You're suppressing it, but every second it threatens to break free and consume you. You've been pushed over the edge, you've had no sleep, that shadow has awoken memories you'd rather forget, and you are worried for your children, and your companions. The tiniest thing could send you past the breaking point."
She couldn't argue with the beast this time. Everything it said was truth. She was afraid. She was tired. And she was experiencing flashbacks of something she had pushed to the farthest, darkest corners of her mind. It was something she had desperately tried to move past, put behind her, and yet it still haunted her. She couldn't deny that it was all affecting her.
She looked toward the teenage girl, who was still staring in awe at the panther, watching its every movement carefully, muscles tense and ready to spring at a moments' notice. She couldn't tell if it was out of fear, or respect.
Slowly, as her mind finally began to falter and give in to the beast's request, she stepped forward, toward where the sword lay in the dirt. The blade was thin, and made of some of the finest metal, she could tell, by the sheen of the sharpened edges in the full moons light. At one time she couldn't have made heads or tails of what sword was better than another, but as Link insisted on keeping a sword at all times, scarred from the events six years prior and now rather untrusting of the world outside, she had learned by osmosis what made a good sword.
This one appeared to be made of a mixture of iron, copper and even a bit of silver. The hilt was sturdy, made for a bigger grip than her own, and wrapped in layer after layer of thick, raw leather. She reached down, and took it into her right hand, her dominant hand, and tested its weight. It was the lightest sword she had ever held, lighter even than the pitchforks she used back at the ranch. The hilt was a tad larger than she would have preferred, but otherwise, it seemed to be almost custom made for her.
"Before you get too involved," the panther's voice interrupted her reverie of the sword, and how her reflection was perfectly mirrored on the blade. She turned and found it sitting at the very edge of the water, occasionally batting at the water with one paw, lazy and half-heartedly. "You need to cleanse yourself. This water will ease the aches in your muscles, and invigorate you."
Malon looked at the panther skeptically.
"Now you want me to bathe?"
"With what you need to do? Yes. Now get rid of those dirty clothes!"
She looked toward the teenage girl, and after a moment, flicked her wrist at her, shooing her off. The girl merely shrugged, and moved out of view, sitting down just outside the layer of bramble. It was definitely something she wasn't comfortable doing. Stripping bare in a swamp she didn't know, in front of a panther she didn't trust, with a shadow whose intentions has been made clear as day.
"The more you procrastinate, the more likely your friend is to die."
She harrumphed at the panther, and started with her boots, kicking them off with some tribulation. The well-tanned leather clung to the sticky sweat on her feet and calves as she kicked at her heels, trying to get them off without having to set her pendant down. She didn't want to loose it again. It took a few minutes, and the whole time, the panther was watching her with its moon-like eyes, staring at her, a look of utter boredom in the yellow orbs.
It licked its lips as she finally succeeded in removing her boots, and carefully pushed them aside with one foot, and as she looked at it, it only made her more nervous. Was it male? Or female? She couldn't tell, and wasn't about to try and take a peak.
"Are you just trying to fool me into getting naked in front of you?"
A sound that resembled that of a human's laughter rumbled out from the beast's voice box, as it grinned so wide that the corners of its eyes crinkled, licking its teeth as it stared at her. Did it ever blink? She wondered.
"Don't you know what I am?" it asked, voice suddenly containing no accent at all, neither that of a man or a woman. A flat, monotone ring that echoed through her mind in a strange way that made her shiver. "I'm not a normal panther, child. I am deity of this place, guardian of the swamp. I am genderless. I have no interest in you."
She didn't know if she trusted the beast's words, but she wanted to be over with whatever the panther's plan might be. So she reluctantly began unbuttoning the front of her dress. She did have to admit that it was completely soiled. The dress was stained in everyplace imaginable with dirt, muck and blood. She could hardly believe that it had once been blue.
Her fingers fumbled with the last button, still refusing to let go of the pendant, leaving her with very little wiggle room to work with. After the final button had been loosened, the shouldered the top half off, a faint color of red adorning her cheeks as she exposed her chest. The only thing she could be thankful for was that the temperature was agreeable enough.
She stepped quickly from the dress that she had let fall to the ground, and moved quickly, hoping to cover herself in the water as quickly as she could, hoping that the water would conceal her from the panther's unnerving stare.
But stepping into the water did not cover a thing. The water was too clear. Everything was still painfully visible. However, she didn't care about that anymore. She hadn't noticed immediately, it was after she had reluctantly sunken down so that the water was above her chest that she realized that the water was stinging. Stinging to every inch of skin. She hurriedly checked the hue of the water. It was still a normal color for water, other than the unusual clarity. It wasn't the sickly pink of the poisoned water they had encountered previously.
"What is this?!" She hissed, the stinging progressing to a burning sensation. There was a strange look to the panther. Had its fur changed hue? It didn't look black anymore. No, it had definitely changed, lightening to a more violet hue, rosettes of darker purple littering its pelt.
"Did I forget to mention that it might sting a little?" it said without a drop of pity. "You need to be cleansed. The world has tainted you, darkened your mind and weighed down your soul. That's the demon's weakness. He is so caught up in his dark thoughts and petty ways that he cannot truly ascend the steps of the immortality that he yearns for. He is strong, yes, but not immortal. You need to clear your mind, and see with eyes unclouded by hate. In order for this to happen, to need to come to peace with your past."
It came closer to her, as she clenched her fists, hissing as the pain grew stronger, but this time, it was not a pain on her skin's surface. This time it was entirely in her head. Like an acute migraine, making her groan through clamped-shut teeth.
"At peace with my past?" she asked, reaching up from where she had originally planted her hands in the soft bed of the pond and pressing her fingers against her temples. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means that you have to realize that the past is in the past, and your past does not define you…"The panther's voice died out. Or at least that was what she thought, as her vision began to waver. The last thing she felt was a cold nose touching the back of her skull, underneath her hairline. In reality it was her, and the fact that she was slowly loosing consciousness...
"Father, I'll be fine!" She insisted, placing both hands on her hips and staring up at the rather plump man in front of her. Sometimes he was so irritating! She wasn't a little girl anymore! She could do things on her own! She was fourteen after all! Practically an adult!
He grumbled something unintelligible, probably a curse he didn't want her to hear, and then stepped out of the way, head dipped down.
"Fine. Just…be careful," he looked at her, putting a large hand on her shoulder. It easily wrapped around her slender, gently sliding down her arm to gather up one of her hands into his. "Please?"
"Of course Daddy! I'm not stupid!"
He sighed in apprehension, and opened the iron gate for her, the gate that led to the wide, seemingly endless expanse of field beyond. The wind was sweet smelling, scented with cherry blossoms from a neighboring farm and the subtle smell of fresh growing grass.
"I know you aren't, Mal." Were his parting words, as he turned away from the gate, and headed slowly, falteringly, toward the open stable doors. She watched him go, and after his tall, rounded figure disappeared beyond the darkness of the stable's interior, looked toward the horse whose reins were firmly gripped in her hand.
"Come on, boy, let's go!" She said enthusiastically, excitement and anticipation bubbling inside her as she took the first step through the gate. The first step she had ever taken outside the ranch's gates without her father or older sister.
The horse, a dun gelding who watched her placidly, walking alongside her, heaved as the cart he was hitched to rumbled over a bumpy patch in the otherwise well-worn path that she was leading him along.
The milk bottles rattled inside the cart as she walked, humming her favorite song as she made her way for Kakariko Village. Her large blue eyes were wide with wonder and within the sapphire irises, youthful energy sparkled brightly. It was her first trip on her own all on her own.
It was invigorating! Making a delivery for the ranch all by herself. She had always dreamed of the day she would be able to do things on her own, it was like a dream come true! The horse, she didn't know his name, tossed his head as they crossed over the narrow bridge, making the width by mere inches' margins, and headed for the special path made for deliveries and those traveling with horses.
She thought about the horse as they both started up the incline. It seemed not to even have a name. They had a tradition of writing each horse's name on its tack. He wasn't a spectacular horse, but he was strong, and amiable, and finding no name on any of the tack, it seemed like such a shame for him to go through life without one.
"I'm gonna call you…Marco. Yeah, that works, what do you think?" She whispered to him, reaching up with some difficulty and draping the reins over his neck again, allowing him to walk freely beside her. She had never found a need to put reins on horses. She understood what the purpose was, but she never needed them. Her father or sister never believed her, but she could swear that sometimes she could hear the horses speak. Not in whinnies, but in actual words.
The gelding looked over at her, and an understanding look seemed to light up in the horse's brown eyes. He bobbed his head, as if nodding, and she broke into a bubbly laugh as they reached the top of the path, entering Kakariko Village.
"Ok then, Marco it is!"
Although she had never made the trip on her own, she had accompanied her sister or father many times, and knew the village by heart, places and people alike. There were only a few people she had not made the acquaintance of.
This delivery in particular was headed for the local inn.
Stopping the horse to one side of the entrance, she made a quick check to make sure he would stay, and then pushed the door open. The innkeeper was a short, pudgy woman, with a kind face and slender black eyes that smiled from her cheeks.
"Oh, Malon!" the woman exclaimed upon seeing her, beckoning her over to the bar she was standing behind. "Are you here by yourself?"
She beamed up at the woman with a toothy grin, excitement evident in the sparkle of her eyes.
"Yep! I'm delivering the milk all by myself!" She smiled, giggling through her words as she bounced on the balls of her feet.
"Well, isn't that grown up of you! Just let me go get that lazy bum of a man I call husband and we'll unload."
And with that, the woman hurried out from behind the bar, and quickly mounted the stairs that led to the rooms they rented. It was a well-known fact that her husband had a tendency to sneak off and sleep in one of the un-rented rooms.
While she waited, she turned from the bar, and looked around the common room. There were a few simple wooden tables scattered around the room, and at almost each and every one, there were people seated. Most of them, she knew. People from the village often came to the inn as a common gathering place. But one table had a small group she had never seen before. There were two men sitting there, downing large tankards of golden beer, laughing raucously between swigs at what the other had to say. One man had tightly groomed, chestnut colored hair and a softly sculpted face.
But the other had harsher features.
Although he had obviously consumed a fair share of alcohol, his eyes were still an intense and snapping green hue, flecks of silver in the irises. A few strands hanging in front of his eyes, his jet-black hair was wild and unkempt.
Two boys were sitting there as well. One was taller than the other, with dark auburn hair that hung limply in front of his honey-brown eyes. He sat beside the black haired man, while the other sat a little ways away from all of them.
His hair was blonde, almost golden in hue, and although it was a bit messy, it was well tamed compared to the other man. She watched him interestedly as she waited for the innkeeper and her husband. She didn't often get to see foreigners, although she guessed that the golden-haired boy was actually originally from Hyrule, given that his ears were delicately pointed at the tips. She stiffened when the taller of the boys made a few soft, jeering gestures, saying something that she couldn't hear, and the boy she had been watching turned in his chair.
She'd been caught staring.
His eyes were an even darker blue than her own, and he looked at her curiously from across the room. She didn't know what to do now. She'd been caught staring, but she didn't know if she had the courage to go and explain herself to him. She hadn't meant to stare!
To her great relief, the innkeeper came back seconds later, husband plodding down the stairs after, grumbling, and gave an opportunity to leave. She dared to take one last glance over her shoulder as she stepped through the door, and found that the boy was still watching her.
She waited beside the horse as they unloaded the wagon, absentmindedly stroking the gelding's silkily furred neck. Occasionally, she'd get lost in thought, and in order to re-obtain her full attention, the gelding would reach around and gently nibble at her hair, pulling her back to reality. She took the innkeeper's money after the wagon was unloaded, only giving a nod, and turned to leave without another word.
She couldn't get that boy's stare out of her head. There was such a strange sadness to it. But it also had rebelliousness to it. Wild and fierce like that of a feral beast. As she thought about him, she didn't notice as large, shadowy figure crept up alongside he wagon, outside of either her or the horses' vision.
She screamed in fright as a dirty, masculine hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her away from the horse and behind the nearest building. Before she could scream again, another hand wrapped around her mouth. She looked up into the narrow eyes of another man she did not know. He didn't seem to belong to the group she had seen earlier. His face was rather undistinguishable, with features that didn't look that much different from anyone else's. His dark brown hair was greasy, and probably hadn't been washed in a year, and hung almost down to his shoulders.
His upper lip curled back in a malicious grin, revealing his rotten yellow teeth and alcohol stained breath. His breath was practically dripping with alcohol, probably beer, by the smell of it, and the skin of his hand smelled almost of bad. His eyes were pale and glazed over, with a filmy substance over the irises that obscured most of, if not all, of the color that might have once been there. Her stomach tied itself in knots as he leered at her. She was young, but not dumb. She knew what he was thinking. Why had she wanted to go on her own? Her father would've scared the man off before this even happened, and her sister would have been able to go get help or if nothing else, give him a good hard kick to a sensitive place. She had been so immature, thinking she could handle things on her own.
" 'e quiet 'ittle girl." He sneered, his words slurring with drunkenness. Ever muscle in her body tightened as he reached toward her and took a hold of her dress's collar. Just as he gave a slight tug, making her yelp against his hand, he stopped, and growled, letting go of the collar and pressing the hand to the back of his head. He turned like a rabid dog that had been poked, other hand still clamped against her mouth, keeping her pinned against the back of the building.
"Can' ya see 'm busy 'ere kid? Scat!" He spat, a few droplets of saliva flying past his lips. She strained her eyes to see who he was talking to, and had to make a double check.
It was the boy from the inn. In his hand, he held a handful of rocks gathered up from the ground, one in his left hand, ready to be thrown. When the man turned back to her, the boy did throw the rock, and it hit him square against the ear. He gave a roar of pain upon impact, and seeing her chance, she steeled herself, and clamped her teeth down on his hand, biting as hard as she could.
This time he howled as her teeth sunk into his skin, and the minute he pulled his hand back, she bolted, racing toward the boy. Before the man could follow, the boy pelted him several more times in the face with the remaining rocks he had.
But now the drunken man was even angrier. He recovered quickly, and after he did, he started toward them, slow at first, but gaining speed.
She cowered behind the boy. On one hand, she could bolt, find Marco and run, but she didn't want him to hurt the boy, either. He had saved her, she couldn't just leave!
Just as the man loomed over, fist cocked back and ready to deliver a devastating blow directly to the boy's face, three larger figures slid between them. It took her a moment to realize that it was the other three from the inn.
The black haired one quickly and deftly struck the drunken man with a sharp kick to the gut, sending him staggering back and soon after toppling to the ground. But he dragged himself up again, unsteadily back to his feet, glaring brazenly at the two men. They exchanged a glance amongst themselves before the other man, the one with the softer features and chestnut-colored hair stepped forward and with a quick flick of his wrist, pulled a sword from a scabbard as his hip and clobbered the drunk with the pommel, rendering him unconscious.
"That'll teach ya to mess with one of mine." He snorted with finality, clapping his hands together, brushing the dirt from his palms. As he turned, he put a hand on the boy's head and ruffled his hair as he started away. The other boy didn't even look at her as he followed, like an obedient puppy following its master.
But the one that had saved her remained. He stared at the unconscious drunk for a moment, before turning to face her. He was a little taller than her, about a foot, if she had too guess, and probably a few years older too.
"I-uh…" She stammered, not knowing what to say. But just when she found the words, another voice rang out, louder than her's.
"Hey! Kid! We gotta go!" The black-haired man called, raising a hand to the air, calling him over.
"Yeah Blondie! Say bye to your girlfriend and let's go!" The auburn-haired youth jeered, drawing the boy's attention. He looked back at her once more, giving her a subtle wink before he bolted, racing to catch up with his group…
She screamed as she came back to consciousness, instinctively clutching both hands over her bare chest, splashing the panther as she fought to regain control, and to remember where she was. The panther hissed as the water hit it in the face, and it reeled back to escape her reach. She panted as her situation flooded back to her, mixing with the strange, memory-dream she had just experienced.
"What in the hell was that?!" She gasped, lungs still fighting fill with air. It felt almost like she had drowned.
"Its your darkest memory, child. You've pushed that behind you ever since it transpired. In order to fight that demon, you must be at peace with who you are. You must not have a weakness. He would've used that. Do you realize what I was trying to teach you?"
She shook her head.
"I wanted to teach you that glass hearts break easy. Yours has the capability to be made of steel, if given the chance…
Kay, that was a long ass chapter. I'm sorry for that, but there really wasn't a lot of stopping choices. Can I just say something here?
If any of you are at all disappointed with this arc so far, I can kind of explain if anyone thinks its lacking. This isn't exactly my favorite arc of the story. I have all these great ideas for part three, part four & part five. But this one is being a stubborn little ass about coming out decently. I promise that it gets, like, ten times better! Really!
And does anyone have any guess as to who the four "strangers" were? I'm pretty sure that one is obvious, but the other three are up to interpretation at this point.