Looking back at the previous chapter's parting note, I was warning you that since I was sick, the chapter might not make any "since", as I put, rather than sense. Immediately, my palm collided with my forehead as I realized the irony and began laughing my sick, sorry behind off. I would have fixed it, but it was just too funny to change back.
In other news, I was informed by one of my good friends here on fanfiction that Acheronta Movebo is currently on page 5 out of about 21,300 for the most reviewed Zelda fic, ranking in the top 100. Holy moley, that's freaking amazing. I went to check the list myself, and was happy to see some familiar faces there. ZeldaRubix (who, although I'm not sure reads this story anymore, but was once a consistent reviewer) holds the number one spot, which delighted me to no end, as well as LeilaEditor, who is currently number 22 with her fic, "Reality". I consider them both semi-almost-there-friends in that comradeship fanfiction author type way, (okay, that sounded really weird) but seeing their names made me feel pretty proud for them. This probably means nothing to the two of you, but hey, I can be excited enough for the three of us.
As for the revisions, I've made it to Chapter 15 as of this uploading. If you've got the time, check it out, I've done much more character development, for Wolfe especially.
Hope you enjoy the chapter!
~Alyssa
The best gift that the mind has given us is the ability to forget.
….
In mentem nobis datum est posse oblivisci.
Then
In the dream, everything was dark.
But it wasn't the right kind. Not the comforting, content dark that you let lull you to sleep each night, the kind that warm summer evenings and the gentle embrace of unconsciousness are made of.
No.
This dark was dangerous and cold, the kind that makes the hair of your neck stand on end, full of fear and the unknown.
Even so, I pushed onward into the expanse of nothing, holding my arms cautiously out in front of my face to feel for any clue as to my bearings, though I knew from night after sleepless night that there was none.
"Link…"
Right on cue, the whisper caressed my ears, a smooth, malicious tenor that has become all too familiar for me. Despite the fact I knew it was coming, I jumped a mile out of my skin, my head whipping around in search of the owner.
"My name is not Link," I tried to say, but the sound choked in my throat as another cold gust of wind blew across my face.
"Link…"
And suddenly, a perfect half crescent smile, slicing blindingly white through the thick darkness, beckoning me forward.
"Llew gnio derau oy." it whispered, though its mouth did not move. "Egn everru oyte glliw uoy."
And then the smile began to float backwards, a small sliver of light forming around it.
I froze in my tracks. This had never happened before.
I always woke up before this.
The light revealed a large silver circle around the smile, and though every instinct in my body screamed otherwise, I walked towards it, curiosity getting the best of me.
As I drew closer, the circle expanded, silver vines and ivy curling around it in ornate curves, shaping what looked like a mirror.
A mirror with a smile.
And at the base, engraved into the silver frame, was a single word in perfect cursive print.
Post.
"Kees uoy tah werut ufeh tsi?" it asked, pulling me forward with its words, though I couldn't understand. "Uoy ple hnaci."
And suddenly she was there, in the mirror, a look of absolute terror on her face.
Her hair was tangled and matted with blood, bruises and tears and gore ruining her face. An eye was blackened and her lip split, though they were hard to see with her hands protectively covering her face. She pressed against a wall with nowhere else to go, cowering against whoever pursued her.
I had never seen her that broken, that afraid.
But the twisted, ruined piece of my mind rejoiced at the sight, seeing her submission, her defeat.
My revenge.
"Please!" she begged as a sword was pressed against her chest, beginning to sob. "Please!"
"Egn everru oyte glliw uoy." The voice whispered.
"I will get my revenge." I murmured in answer, reaching up and touching the cool glass of the mirror, my eyes locked on the image.
The blade slid through her as easily as if she were butter.
xxxx
It was a glass of cold water that finally shocked me awake, the last resort for a grinning Eli who didn't want me being late. Wolfe hovered at his side, though Archer lagged behind, still climbing into a pair of tan breeches.
"Good morning, sunshine." He half-sang, acting oblivious to anything wrong as he tossed me my clothes. "It's ten of. You've got five minutes before we're do at breakfast, so I suggest you hurry before all the good gruel gets taken."
Over the last few weeks of our stay at the castle, my oversleeping had become a routine. The same dream haunted me every single night, of the darkness and the smile and the pain, and nothing less than a good kick to the ribs could rouse me, and even that sometimes didn't work, forcing Eli, Archer, and Wolfe, my daily alarm clocks, to get creative.
Hence the ice water that was currently dripping down my back and seeping into my sheets.
Not that I wasn't grateful.
I drew a hand up, wiping the water from my forehead and combing my damp hair back in one swift motion, ignoring the concerned looks I was getting from Archer. I couldn't have been yelling in my sleep, could I? "Right…five minutes. You guys can go on ahead, save me a seat, will you?"
All three of them, to an extent, knew about my recurring nightmare. Though I was careful to be vague on the finer, more disturbing parts, I was sure all of them, Archer especially, knew they were more than a bit worse than I made them out to be.
"You two go." Wolfe said, leaning against the top bunk as he I tried to untangle myself from my soaked blankets. "Someone's got to make sure he gets to the dining hall in one piece."
Archer rolled his eyes, tugging on his second boot before throwing his pajamas onto the bunk over mine, which he nostalgically chose to occupy. "Fine by me. Kynleigh's expecting me, and—"
"Gag me," Eli groaned at the mention of Archer's newest girlfriend, the blind girl we had met upon our arrival to the caverns. It had been a month, nearly a record, and they were still going strong, in a very public, googly-eyed cutesy way, much to the dismay of everyone else. Even so, he followed Archer out the door to the barracks, throwing Wolfe and I a grin as he left.
"You doing okay?" Wolfe's brow furrowed with concern as I pulled my rumpled sheets taut over my bed, grumbling under my breath at the blotchy water stain on the stained yellow fabric that made it look all too like I had wet the bed.
The others would sure get a kick out of that.
"It wasn't any worse than any of the other times," I lied.
Judging from the look on his face, he easily saw through my fib. "Today was the hardest we've ever had to try to get you up." He reported, his face grim. "You were clutching your head and yelling, all the others think you're insane."
I sighed, pulling my shirt over my head and fastening the belt, rolling my eyes as I gestured to the water stain. "Great. Now I'm a bed wetter and crazy to boot."
Despite my effort to defuse the situation, he didn't laugh, instead staring intently at me with worry. "It's not good to bottle things up." He said simply, standing up and going to the door, gesturing me through. "We all know you're lying. You can talk to us, you know."
"I know," I replied, even though I couldn't.
The walk to the mess hall and the majority of breakfast—which today, surprisingly enough, was comprised of the regular, flavorless gruel they called oatmeal with the addition of a link of sausage for the each of us, something that any other time would have indicated the beginning of a good day, but did nothing for me today—was spent in silence, all the boys in my barrack shying away from me as though I had some sort of contagious disease.
"What's with everyone else?" asked Leila as I handed over my sausage to Hank, moodily stirring my oatmeal around my bowl.
"Nox has been branded as the resident nutcase." said Eli smartly around a mouth full of food, patting my hand twice. "But don't worry, buddy, we don't think you're crazy."
"Speak for yourself," Wolfe said as he eyed the glistening, greasy sausage that Hank was about to devour. "He just gave up the first sausage we've had since Noamas. He's obviously delusional."
And as Leila started to choke on her drink, spitting half of it across the table and spraying a disgruntled Eli, even I couldn't help but laugh.
After breakfast, as we did every morning, we padded ourselves up in some old, dilapidated plates that hadn't been used in several decades, as the fading blue and gold Hylian crest in the front attested to. The plates were ruined armor, dented and rusty, taking any stealth or mobility and sending it straight to Hell. And the drills and sprints we ran around the courtyards of the palace were just that for someone like me, who relied on their agility and speed to outmatch their opponents.
Most days, I lagged behind the majority of the group, huffing and making a general fool of myself, but today, I had steam to burn off. Today, it seemed too easy to surge to the point, leaving behind the rest as we did our morning jog around the perimeter of the castle.
After we were finished with this, we were led back into the palace and allowed to shed our heavy armor in favor of the silent suits that the Sheikah favored. Somehow, Eli had been able to secure Wolfe and I suits before we left the caverns, so we never stood out too much—although on the first afternoon of our training Wolfe had accidentally put his on backwards, much to the amusement of the others.
We stood in the grand hall as Impa began to pass out the maps, her sharp, drawling voice echoing in the biggest room of the castle.
"Your goal today is a particular courtyard outside the throne room." She said. "It's been marked on your map."
This was the staple of our afternoon training: learning the labyrinth of passageways that wound their way, hidden, through the drafty walls. Once a day, she would give us an objective, sometimes the library, or the barracks, or the nursery wing (why she was insistent on us memorizing the way there, I didn't know; the last child born to the Royal family was her, and that was twenty years ago) and giving us a few minutes to plan out a route. Then, taking our maps, we would have to find our way there.
The first team to make it to where she directed would get some kind of reward; a bit of brown sugar to put in their gruel, an extra roll with the treat of a pat of butter at dinner, being excused early to catch up on their sleep. They were worthwhile rewards, and if I was right, this one would be a piece of cake to take.
My eyebrows shot up when my suspicions were confirmed; yes, it was the courtyard.
It was, naturally, where I had met her for the first time.
The first place I ever saw her eyes.
The first place I realized there was a person I cared about more than myself.
The first place I fell in love.
But then, it was also the first place that I realized I hated her.
'Dammit, Nox, get it together,' a part of my brain snapped when I felt the tears sting in my eyes, 'How long has it been?'
'Not long enough.' The other half replied.
Sensing my distress, Wolfe sidled his way over, trying very hard not to draw the attention of Impa. "Want to pair up?" He asked, though his eyes asked a different question.
"Sure." I said as I handed my map over to Impa, not even bothering to look at it. My face twisted as I recalled the place. How many times had I snuck in as a child just to see her, just to hear her voice and laugh and—
Always knowing just what to do, Wolfe smacked me hard in the back of the head. "What's gotten into you?!" he hissed, his concern showing through despite his best efforts.
I shook my head once, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "Just sore," I lied, pretending to stretch out my arm. "And I didn't get a very good night's sleep. I'm fine. Really." I added, because he didn't look convinced.
Though his wary eyes never left my face, there was no way he could refute my foolproof acting.
It was the one thing I was good at, after all these years, after all.
"Is everyone ready?" The voice of Impa affectively stopped any argument on Wolfe's part. "You have exactly one hour to get to your destination. I will wait for you there."
And in a flash of smoke, she vanished.
All the groups quickly dispersed, running up the giant steps or climbing behind tapestries. I waited until they were all gone before grabbing Wolfe by the arm and running back outside.
"What are you doing?!" he cried as I pulled him across the drawbridge, waving to the guard on duty. "The courtyard is that way!"
"Just trust me." I rolled my eyes, continuing to drag him down the path to the gardens, following the moat until we were out of the sight of the guards.
Just as I had hoped, several crates of supplies for the kitchen were lined up, ready for us to use.
"Push this one over." I ordered as I grabbed another, tugging it into place. Surprisingly, he obeyed me without question, pushing a box of vegetables on top of the milk, and suddenly we had a perfect set of stairs.
"Watch me."
Climbing on top of the boxes and praying that I would still fit in the grate, I jumped, grabbing the opening in the wall by the tips of my fingers. Though it was slippery, I managed to keep my grip and pull myself in. It was a tight fit, but I was able to wriggle my way inside the wall.
A few moments later, and Wolfe was there beside me.
"I hate you," he grumbled as he squeezed the water out of his shirt. "You'd better know what you're doing."
No one patrolled these gardens any longer, it seemed, so from there it was only too easy to follow the familiar path to our objective.
I walked proudly through the giant archway with a disgruntled Wolfe at my side, a smug grin on my face. "I told you so," I smirked, my eyes scanning the small space for Impa, who would congratulate us as we waited for the others.
But the courtyard was empty.
Empty besides the voices that drifted out the window from the throne room, that is.
Gesturing for Wolfe to be quiet, I tiptoed through the grass, crouching as low as I could until I was underneath the window, a crack in the stone—probably there exactly for this purpose—was just below it, a perfect place to observe.
"…Please, do, send him in." said the gruff voice of the King, lounging as usual in his gigantic chair. The soldier to his left nodded at the page, who scurried down the long carpet to open the large double doors.
"Announcing his majesty, King Lucien Alexander de Hyrule, King of Noamas." cried the herald, slamming his halberd on the ground twice, and a tall young man draped in finery quickly made his entrance, a grin a mile wide threatening to split his face in two.
He had the dark traits all Noamatians did, with his shoulder length brown hair and rugged, tan skin, though his green eyes were a sign of the royal blood swimming through his veins just as violet was a sign of ours. He was well built, at least six feet tall, with muscles to rival Baxter's, the faintest bit of stubble lining his defined cheekbones.
He had changed much since the last time I'd seen him, but in a way, not at all.
He was still reveling in the things that should have been mine.
"Your majesty!" he said breathlessly as he drew closer, clasping his hands together, sheer joy exuding from his features. "I've just been told the most wonderful news!"
With a glint in his eye, the King sat up straighter in his chair, his graying beard revealing a smile. "What is it, my dear boy?" he asked.
"The Princess," The Prince said, laughter in his tone, and I immediately stiffened, watching with pure loathing as he stepped forward and took the King's hands in his own. "Your majesty," his smile grew even wider as he kissed his signet ring. "We've finally done it."
Done what? My insides screamed, knuckles white from clenching them too hard. What have you done with her?
The King's eyebrows rose as he took in this information, taking Lucien by the shoulders and standing him up, disbelief written all over his face. "My daughter…" he murmured, as if it was too good to be true. "The Princess has conceived?"
And suddenly, before I could so much as comprehend what bomb had just dropped, I was ripped away from the window by the scruff of my collar, thrown onto my arse and landing in the grass. My head spun as black spots infiltrated my vision, my body rejecting what I had just heard.
"I believe you've heard quite enough."
A guilty looking Wolfe was standing behind the menacing form that was Impa, her face conflicted. "You made it to the gardens faster than I did." She said quietly, her silver brow furrowing slightly. "How?"
"I…"
"My daughter…she has conceived?" he said.
Conceived.
Just one word.
A verb.
To become pregnant.
Pregnant.
The world rocked as I pictured it, my Princess in bed with another man, with no barriers between their skin, this loathsome man holding her, inside her, stealing her innocence.
The blackness called out to me, beckoning like an old friend.
"I…"
I could see her with child, glowing, radiant, if possible more beautiful than usual, overjoyed with the burden of carrying a new life.
I almost smiled as I imagined it, my head racing forward to the future. Would she name it Daphnes? Would we have another one later, and name her Genevieve? Would we—
No.
Not we.
Her and the Prin—pardon, King, of Noamas.
Not me.
That's whose child was growing inside her.
Not mine.
And suddenly I didn't have a choice, the warm cloak of darkness coming faster than I could resist, the Goddess that was unconsciousness wrapping me in her sure, comforting embrace.
I need a Beta reader.
Repeat: I need a Beta reader PLEASE.
Not so much for editing, I can do that pretty well myself, but I need someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone equally as crazy as I am. There's some major plotholes that I need filling and they're just there in front of me all gaping and huge and I have no way to stop them up. It's driving me insane.
Message me if you're interested?
I have to admit I rushed a bit of this chapter, too. I promised myself I would get it out this weekend and as a result, I don't think it's up to par. Sorry for that.
I'll see you guys next update.
~Alyssa