As of Sunday the 4th, we reached 100 followers! Okay, I sound really lame, it's probably not even that big of a deal, but I'm so happy! Thank you so much to each and every one of you for your support, whether you've reviewed or not. You guys are the best! :)
Happy reading!
xo, Alyssa
PS: In love with the story "Fortitude" by Ingie here on fanfiction. It has a darker feel to it just as Acheronta does, though it's Zelink rather than Link-trying-to-rip-Zelda's-throat-out. If you're looking for new reading material, definitely check it out!
Sors dubia est duplex nobis: et velle implere recusat.
….
Fate has two ways of crushing us: by refusing our wishes and by fulfilling them.
Then
The faint tapping on my door woke me from my sleep.
Careful not to disturb the sleeping Kassia beside me, I crawled out of bed, padding barefoot over to the door and resting my hand on the cool knob, pulling it open with an unceremonious flourish, less than thrilled at being woken up.
It was Archer, his eyes puffy and red, and for once turned to his natural blue-hazel, something that took a short while for me to register. He held something small and circular and wooden in his hands, cradling it as though it was the most precious thing in the world.
"Nox," he croaked, his voice hoarse and cold. "Can I talk to you?" His eyes flickered behind me to Kassia lying underneath the covers of my bed, but if he was surprised, he didn't show it. "That is, if I'm not…interrupting anything."
In my groggy, half-asleep state, it took a moment for me to string together the words in my head in reply. "She didn't want to be alone." I muttered quickly, a blush creeping up the back of my neck. "We weren't doing anything."
"Hey, it's none of my business." he said, a faint smile touching his lips, turning him back to the Archer I knew and loved for a brief moment. "You are engaged. But it'll look bad if she ends up getting pregnant before you're married, so I would suggest that you—"
"You had something you wanted to talk about?" I interrupted, before he could get too graphic. My stomach couldn't handle many more stories about him with the various girls around Kakiriko that seemed to flock to him like bees to honey.
His face fell as quickly as the smile had come. "Yeah," his face contorted painfully. "I do. Come with me. We'll talk on the way."
Not having the sense to question where we were going, I turned around to slip on my boots and tunic, closing the door gently behind me and following him into the dark.
"First…I wanted to apologize," said Archer as we walked into the hallway and through the room with the toys littered on the ground, now abandoned and eerily quiet. Had I slept through the entire day? "I had no right to blow up on you earlier. You didn't do anything wrong."
He paused as we entered the series of hallways I'd come to dub 'The Labyrinth', making an immediate right and through another invisible doorway.
"I don't understand." I admitted as I followed as close as I could, fearful of being left behind. "What happened between you and your father? What did he do?"
"It's not what he did," he scoffed, his expression darkening. "It's what he didn't. Ten years ago when Ganondorf first started attacking, the Sheikah were called and he didn't go, he took my mother and I and he ran away. For most of my life, I thought he was dead, Nox. He pretended to die to save his own life, and he let me go without him because he was too much of a coward to face me after he as good as killed my mother."
His voice was becoming ragged as he held back a choked sob, leaning against the wall of the hallway and pulling the wooden object in his hands to his chest. "She was pregnant, my father told me just now. That meant she wouldn't have had to go to fight, you know. If he hadn't been such a coward—" He whirled around to furiously punch the stone wall, something feral in his eyes. "I would have had a brother, or a sister. My mother would be alive. I would have been a Sheikah, Nox, not some scared seven year old orphan begging for handouts on the side roads of Kakiriko!"
Turning back around so his back was against the wall, he slid down, putting his head against his hands. "And he comes to me today, and gives me that look, like I've spent an entire decade just wasting myself, and I realized, you know what, I have. What am I? I'm no good to anyone, Nox! I couldn't save my mother, I couldn't save my brother or sister, Hell, I couldn't even save myself! If it weren't for Baxter, I would have died, and you know what? I'm starting to think that might have been for the best."
"Archer…"
I couldn't think of what to say.
But what could I?
It was my entire fault, naturally, everything was all my fault.
If I hadn't been the coward, I would have done my damndest to save Hyrule again, and since I would have succeeded as I did the first time, the Sheikah would have never been called. His father would have never wanted to run away. His mother would have never been killed on the journey. Archer would have his parents, his sibling, the life that he wanted, maybe even by this time a wife.
But I wouldn't have a family. I wouldn't have Baxter or Zenith or Linden, Garrett or Wolfe or Kassia. I wouldn't have him, either. And I still wouldn't have Zelda. Who knows what would have happened to me without them? Would I have become what Archer had described about himself: a cold, helpless orphan on the side of the road with no hope, nothing to my name, no one to care whether I lived or died?
Could I honestly say that I regretted it? That I would change things if I could?
He took a breath, looking up at me and shaking his head, as if saying 'enough of this.'
"I didn't ask to talk to you so I could lose it again." He said to me, although the words seemed like he was talking to himself.
"Then what did you want to talk about?"
He looked up apologetically, as if expecting a scolding. "Well, there's this girl—"
"Please," I groaned, theatrically clutching my chest. "Spare me!"
As much as I pretended to be disgusted, I would rather hear about a thousand more girls than to see him fall apart again like he had just a minute before.
"No, no, I'm serious." He said defensively. "This isn't just a fling. She's not like that."
Of course, he had said this tens, if not hundreds of times before. And two weeks later, every single time, he found something wrong with them and broke their hearts, shrugging it off with the typical 'I want her to like me for me, not because they like my looks.'
I fought back a smirk. "Do tell, then. What makes her so lucky as to be the object of your affections?"
His brow furrowed. "I…don't know. I just…I just feel something. There's something special about her, you know? When I talk to her, I know she's not just talking to me because I have a pretty face."
"And how do you know that?" I asked, playing along.
His lips twisted sheepishly. "Well…she's blind."
The boy who could change himself to the desires of a girl who couldn't even see it.
I could almost laugh at the irony.
He had confided in me many a time that he hated when girls had a preference for appearances, that he would never be able to love a girl that was so shallow. He wanted someone who would love him for him.
Of course Archer would love a girl who wouldn't be able to judge him, wouldn't try to mold him into something he's not.
He took my pause as permission to continue on. "So I decided to go to the Vera Ostium, you know, just to clear my thoughts, and—"
"What's the veeruh osteeoom?" I interrupted, carefully mimicking his pronunciation and thinking myself quite ignorant.
"Sorry. I keep forgetting you didn't grow up around this like I did. The Vera, it's the Sheikah's place of…worship, I suppose is the right word. An old legend goes that as the keepers of peace in the land, Nayru gave seven of the first Sheikah the gift of foresight in order to better protect her children. Long story short, they ended up going crazy corrupt, since they were all seeing the first wars and the death and the destruction and all, and she locked them up in mirrors, so that they wouldn't be able to have free will but anyone who needed help could look in them. So when the Sheikah feel doubtful or afraid—which isn't often, mark you—they go to the mirrors in the Vera for self-reflection, I guess, to figure out what they're doing with themselves. They're mostly symbolic, now, like those crosses in Noamas."
I was puzzled. "But do they actually work? Will they help you?"
"Only if they think you can help them in return."
For a moment we were both quiet, him awaiting my response and me confounded into silence.
Could they help me?
I hesitated for a moment, and then, "Can you take me there?"
He looked confused, but nodded. "Sure, if you want. It's not that far."
We went a short distance longer, crossing through the giant room that we had first entered when we arrived here, that Eli had called the Den, if I recalled correctly. This time, I did ask Archer what the giant letters said over the archway into the smaller chamber.
"Reafo ntfel sit felsiepo hone rehw," he said quietly, his eyes downcast. "It's their…ah, motto, I guess. Where no hope is left, is left no fear. As in, the less hope you have, the easier it is to be brave. They carved it there after the Imprisoning War, to teach us a lesson."
The words echoed in my head.
Where no hope is left, is left no fear.
I didn't quite understand. What lesson were they trying to teach?
Were they saying that hope was trivial? That it was useless, just like Wolfe had told Archer just a few months ago? Were they saying that bravery was more important than anything?
Or were they saying to accept the inevitable? When you've done all that you can do, when there's no hope left, there's no need to be afraid?
Still pondering these questions, I followed Archer through the arch, my mind a thousand miles away.
ox(O)xo
The table was surrounded by several unhappy Sheikah.
Some of them were there because their parents had been slaughtered, and they were determined to protect the family they had left from experiencing the pain they had, their younger brothers and sisters and cousins who had yet to hear that the people they had bid goodbye to all those months ago were not coming back, who still had hope that their lives would eventually return to normal.
Some where there because they wanted to avenge those same family members, who were willing to risk it all and pay the ultimate price to end the one that had ended those they loved. They didn't care about leaving the younger ones behind, about putting the fourteen year old Synea in charge of the entire place like Shadow's mother had had no problem leaving it in the hands of the current oldest, Jay. They only wanted bloodshed, and were determined to have it.
Despite which side they stood on, all of them had their eyes fixated on Hoan, their leader, technically the only adult left, waiting for a decision to be made.
"We can't keep doing this." Shadow insisted, slamming her fist down on the table for emphasis. "The children, we can't leave them alone! We can hardly survive now as it is!"
"What's our other option?" refuted a boy named Fortis at the opposite end of the table. "Stay here and wait for whatever's out there to come and get us? Our families are dead, someone must avenge them!"
"You think our families would rather us die in their name then keep the ones who are left safe?" Shadow stood from her chair, her voice steadily raising. "No! The Princess has chosen to allow a foreigner to sit on our throne, and that is why terrible things are happening to Hyrule! The Royal bloodline will be diluted, and we have no responsibility to the Noamatian scum or whatever bastard child comes out of this ridiculous marriage!"
Several voices from both sides of the table began to yell their opinions at the treasonous statement, and Fortis threw himself up as well, opening his mouth to speak, but Hoan's voice rang out above the rest.
"ENOUGH." He shouted. "Fortis, Shadow, you will have your seats!"
The room quickly fell silent, all directing their attention to the man standing at the head.
"These last few months have been hard, it is true." He began, his eyes turning to Shadow, whose thoughts were clearly all in favor of her two younger sisters. "We are struggling as a people without the guidance of our elders. And yes, against the better judgment of our Queen, there is a Noamatian on our throne. But that does not mean the oath that we have sworn to die for since birth can be broken."
He paused, looking down at the cold stone of the table. "I have never been a religious man. Two decades ago, I took that oath in the eyes of the Goddesses, but I have never taken it seriously. But just a day ago, as we sat in these very seats, I prayed for the first time in a very long time. I prayed for an answer, a solution to this terrible problem that we have faced for weeks and weeks. And they delivered me my son, who for over twelve years I had thought dead."
"And it was this sign that made me sure of our course." His gaze flickered around the table. "We will not allow the deaths of our elders to go unpunished. And we will not allow the Sacred Oath the prophet Impa brought to us centuries ago to be shattered because of one man, the Noamatian. In two days time we will march to Hyrule."
Half the room grinned in anticipation.
But the other half rose furiously to their feet.
"Hoan!" Shadow cried. "You can't be ser—"
"This is my choice!" He yelled over her protests, rising to his feet as well, palms down on the table, his face burning with fury. "You will not refute it!"
"Now." He said, as the masses quieted again. "This meeting is adjourned."
And he strode from the room before anyone could say another word.
ox(O)xo
I lifted my hand, brushing my fingers along the foreign letters engraved into the marble. They were cool to the touch, smooth and reassuring.
We had made it to the doors of the Vera, and the entire time all I could think about was their help to me.
I wanted to be worthy. I would be worthy. They would see Courage in me, and they would desire my help, so they would give some to me in return.
But what help could mirrors want?
"Can you read it?" I breathed, turning to look at him, afraid to make too much noise.
He rolled his eyes, gesturing me to move out of the way. "Of course I can. I could recite it to you with my eyes closed."
Motioning towards the doors, I stepped backwards. "Any time now," I prompted. "Be my guest."
Scoffing at my sarcasm, he began.
"O weary warrior who steps into our hall
Have thou felt temptation call?
Dost thou desire to delve in time's flow
To see thy actions of long ago?
Or perhaps thy future is what thou seek
No matter the consequence, whether glorious or bleak?
Or dost thou wish to know how thou ends
By enemy, by lover, by nature or friend?
Or is it repentance thy wish to get
For looking and lamenting on thy deepest regret?
Perhaps thou will see thy dearest desire
However torturous or futile, the dream of which thy aspire?
Or maybe thy wishes to behold and revere
The terrible reality of thy greatest fear?
These things thou will see, so be wary, take care
Many a man hath drawn mad from what seen there
But if thou are brave, if thou can stand what you see
The seventh of our kinsmen will open to thee.
His power unknown but greater than us all
Answering only to the Golden Power's call.
Warrior, choose now, see all or see none,
once you dare enter there is no place to run.
Just remember this above all, warrior, take heed
Before thou take this threshold's lead
Whatever you see here is set hard in stone
Fate cannot be manipulated by will of thy own.
Exercise while you still can, this will so great
To escape the horrors of thy own fickle fate."
My brain had become fuddled trying to keep up with all the information the rhyme possessed. Having absorbed nothing, I would be completely reliant on him once we were in there. But I was reliant on him everywhere in these damned caverns anyway, and most places in general in addition, so it wouldn't be much of a change.
"You're ready to go?" I asked, waiting for him to open the doors.
He shook his head, looking mildly uncomfortable. "I can't go."
My eyebrows shot up.
"Hey, hey, calm down." He held up his hands, palms towards me, in surrender. "It's meant for self-reflection, remember, and I can't help you with that. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. There's an enchantment on the door that only lets one person at a time in."
I rolled my eyes, sighing in annoyance. "Of course there is. I'll bet your genius ancestors also made it so that you can't actually leave until you've looked in all the mirrors like that fancy rhyme of yours says."
At this he smirked. "Naturally. A little annoying, I'll admit, but it's worth the peace and quiet you get in there."
"But what do they do?" I was desperate for the information.
He shrugged. "It's like it said in the inscription. Each mirror does something different, and you have to look in all six before you're allowed to leave."
"Is there anything you need to warn me about?" For some reason, a dreadful feeling had settled in my gut.
He considered this for a moment. "Not really. It's dark, it's quiet, and there's mirrors. Not that complicated."
"Alright. I trust you." Taking a deep breath, I stepped towards the doors, aware suddenly that there was no handle. Looking to Archer with annoyance, I waited for instructions.
"Sorry." He said unapologetically with a grin. "You have to press your hand against the middle, they'll open up for you."
I slid my palm on the cool stone, feeling it ride over the bumpy inscription.
Suddenly, the stone grew warm, a blinding white light piercing the dimness of the antechamber, forming a rectangle around my hand, breaking off and sinking into the marble.
And the doors pulled apart with a soft groan, leaving an open archway for me to proceed into.
Pausing only to give a short wave to Archer, I walked through them.
The doors closed behind me with a thud, and I was left alone.
I was standing in a hallway, long and almost completely dark, a faint light shining down several yards at the end. The walls and floor were made of some polished stone that sent a vague image of my black reflection flashing back to me in every direction. Upon closer inspection, they were covered with Sheikahn just as the doors were, lines and lines of floor to ceiling minuscule print, the script perfectly aligned and seeming to go on forever.
I began the unnerving walk down the hall, jumping half a mile when a cold gust of wind blew against my neck. Suddenly, the air became humid, so heavy that every breath was a labor. Fear hung in this stale air, undiluted and strong. I picked up my pace, trying to focus only at the light at the end of the hall and not my tantalizing reflection, mocking my every move from every direction.
The hallway stretched, seeming to go on for ages, an endless expanse that went on forever no matter how fast I ran. The cold air that chased me made my skin crawl and I scratched and the invisible demons that crept up my back, strangling my neck with torturous gooseflesh. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, my heart pounding in my ears as I heard a half-crazed scream rip through the silence, echoing back and reverberating, and suddenly a thousand screams were tearing through the dark. I instinctively reached my left hand behind my shoulder to draw the sword that wasn't there to fight the Re-Deads, swallowing hard as I whirled around to face them with nothing but my fists to defend myself.
But they weren't there. I was alone.
I took a shallow breath to steady myself, my entire body quivering as I resisted the urge to fall to my knees.
Those screams were not from Re-Deads, I suddenly realized. They were my own.
My hands empty, my eyes stinging, and my throat raw, my mind began to slowly function again as I realized I was hardly five yards from the door.
"Heros de Tempus, Des sape vahuoy lair teht." Something whispered in my ear, their cold, unnatural breath on my neck.
My heart faltered in my chest, but I pressed on, clenching my hands into fists as the cold wind struck me again.
Finally, mercifully, I made it to the end, crossing the threshold into a different room, stopping only to fervently thank the Goddesses.
It was a small, perfectly octagonal room, lit red by some dim, divine light that added to the ambiance of terror. And it was silent. Dead silent. My feet made no footsteps as they had just seconds before, my gauntlets did not clink and I walked, my heavy breathing made no noise. Desperate to encounter something, I whipped my head around.
And then I saw the mirrors.
They hung on the no-longer reflective walls, opulent silver vines and ivy growing from the spotless, ovular glass, forming a frame of faintly glowing metal, each completely identical to the last. Inside, though I thought I imagined it, each contained a pure white half-crescent, the points facing up, creating six ghastly, disembodied grins staring at me in the silence.
I picked one at random, timidly walking towards it, warily keeping eye contact with the smile the entire time. As I drew closer, I could make out something on the bottom of it. Engraved into the silver frame, was a single word. Volo.
As soon as the name echoed in my mind, something black shot out from the mirror, and so quickly I didn't even see what it was I was grabbed by the collar of my shirt and yanked roughly forward. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the impact of the wall that never came as my head suddenly began to swim, the world around me suddenly jolting as I feel to my knees.
"ROR RIMEHT KA ERB." Something shrieked, knocking me backward with its putrid, death-scented breath, my head slamming hard on the floor.
And everything went black.
You guys are lucky I'm lazy, otherwise that entire inscription on the door would have been in Sheikahn and if your curiosity got the best of you you would have had to translate it.
Until next time, you guys (:
~Alyssa