A/N:
Thank you, as always, to the wonderful Norkix (here on FFnet) for beta reading this chapter! He's helped ramp up a lot of these scenes with fantastic ideas (that I certainly wouldn't have thought of), and I'm always in awe at how organized and articulate he is with this craft! Thank you once again!
As with the last update, I'm so sorry for the delay! I hadn't anticipated this long of a break, but things were quite hectic and it was tricky to find time to flesh this story out properly. This chapter is chonky, though, so at least there's a lot to dig into with this post.
I'm hoping that there won't be such a large gap between now and the next chapter. I'll do my best to keep any updates active on my profile!
Enjoy the chapter (and happy holidays to all who celebrate)!
XXXXX
What had felt like the passage of merely a single, sluggish day had - in all actuality - been an entire week; sped along atop the heels of bedridden, sickly sorrows and bowls of rich, marbled stews.
During this time, Zelda had - in everyone else's eyes - inexplicably fallen ill. Yet, for Zelda herself, it hadn't seemed inconsequential in the slightest. She was confident that the time she had spent outside, fully ensnared in the pouring rain and frost-dipped winds was what had sealed her fate; inflicting a sickness that had forced her into scornful passivity.
The harsh rainstorm had persisted, drenching the land in its devouring temper. It had mounted into an all-out superstorm; gusting in solid sheets of rain and tangling bellows of wind. The people of Hyrule had been advised to hole up indoors at the behest of King Daltus, announced only on the storm's third day of endurance. The notice had come in the form of a hastily scribbled speech, relayed by King Daltus in between breaths of stagnant air. His skin had looked dull and sallow, with the purple circles saddled beneath his eyes appearing more prominent than ever.
For Zelda, the week had been hellish - and not just at the hand of her stuffy nose or the scorching, sweltering fever that had plagued her. No, for her, being confined to her bedroom had been wholly maddening, and the few visits that she had endured at the request of others had done little to remedy that feeling.
Malon had been the first to drop by, waltzing into Hyrule Castle with an array of bottled Lon Lon Milk in tow. The ranch girl had been granted clearance to speak with Zelda in private, and she had spared no time in inquiring about the status of Link and the Four Elements - reflecting visible concern behind the glass notches of her pupils. Through gritted teeth, Zelda had admitted that no progress could be made so long as she remained ill, and Malon's demeanor had aptly shriveled in response. The visit had ended with Malon reheating Zelda's dampened forehead rag in a bucket of boiled fountain water, all the while touting the restorative and healing properties imbued in Lon Lon Milk.
The next to arrive had been Master Smith, much to Zelda's surprise. While his visits to the castle were frequent - so frequent, in fact, that she had grown used to his baritone voice circulating throughout the imperial halls - his request to hold a private audience with her had generated more than just a feeble shock. It had never been uncommon to spot him dwelling in the sunstruck corridors, puttering about whilst armed with a slew of mixed metal swords in varying shapes and sizes. Yet, the two had agreed long ago to cease gratuitous conversation in Hyrule Castle to ensure that neither accidentally stumbled on their words nor eluded to any ties that they held outside of the castle's noble realm.
Master Smith had disbanded this confidential pact shortly after King Daltus' speech, slinging along a fresh batch of potato chowder upon his arrival. It hadn't been long into his visit - a paltry minute, with Zelda only two measly spoonfuls into her soup - before he had come clean, admitting that he had been fraught with worry over Zelda's whereabouts. Master Smith had been beside himself, fearful that she had stayed firm and committed to carrying out her plan even now; sludging through the mud and galvanic rain in a faulty hope to save Link. Zelda had assured him that she had been far too sick, having been reduced to nothing more than a paperweight in her own bed. He had been pleased to hear this admission, though she had delivered it with a mulish frown and a dampened spirit.
If it had just been those sporadic visits from Malon and Master Smith, Zelda likely wouldn't have felt as rattled as she did; as if her blood had been laboriously drained from her drowsy, nauseous complexion. She would have been able to better handle Malon's belligerent lecturing on Lon Lon Milk and Master Smith's blubbering woes with unmeshed grace, perhaps even sparing a trivial smile or an untempered laugh.
However, it hadn't just been those visits from Malon and Master Smith. It had also been the nightly, endless visits from Rorro.
It had become a maddening cycle. Every night, as the raw splinter of dusk would shift into twilight, Rorro would edge into the stillness of her room. The pleasant clinks and clangs that reverberated from his shuffling armor plates were always the first telltale sign, followed closely by his velveteen voice whispering into the darkness, alerting her about his arrival.
Their meetings hadn't started maliciously, though. On the first night that he had made an appearance, it had been fully planned and accepted; with Zelda graciously welcoming him into her room. That had occurred on the same day that he'd caught her in the garden, clutched beneath the drizzling clouds. At the time, Zelda's illness hadn't fully gripped her by the heels, and she had also been entirely unsure of Rorro's stance on her adventure. Just a few hours prior to that meeting, he had bluntly revealed the smattering of evidence he had found poised against her, and yet, in the same breath, he had promised to keep quiet until they could discuss everything in private. He had presented a rare opportunity for her to clarify the intricacies and clauses surrounding the situation, a luxury that Zelda was sure others would have stolen from her. The consideration and indulgence he had displayed had given her a pebble of hope - a mere inkling - that he could lend his aid and become a trustworthy ally.
When they had spoken to each other in private on that fabled first night, Zelda had intended to remain intentional with her words. Her brain had been fuzzy from the etched whispers of the virus she would soon fall victim to, and she had cinched her heart behind twisting iron bars - fearful that Rorro would snatch everything away from her with just the snap of his fingers.
And so, she had shakily begun, retelling the grim discovery of her sleep-crusted gaze landing unknowingly upon Link, cocooned in stone and yet itching for life. She spoke of sleepless nights, of bewildered trailheads and unmapped roads, and of crumbling, crackling mountains. As time had seeped into the stars, she had become bolder with her story, detailing cordial basalt pillars poised by ancient entryways, splintering boulders near brimming pits of sparkling magma, and wailing puncture wounds that bit through fibrous nerves. Even as her voice inched on raspiness, she still detailed the evocation of the crystalline water bobbing against a solid ice sculpture, being perched beneath a silvered moon, with the gaze of a wicked wind demon flooding every shadowed corner.
By the end of her story, she had spared no detail, allowing the words to spill from her lips in a rusted tumble. Rorro had listened studiously until her voice fizzled into deep breaths, and then he had erupted into unabashed astonishment. He had professed his utter amazement at the sheer grit, tenacity, and dedication Zelda upheld in her desire to save Link, and he had acknowledged that none of the guards that had been handpicked for the same task had risked their livelihood in the manner that she had.
After a minor beat of silence, Rorro had sheepishly confessed that he would refrain from alerting the other castle guards about her escapade. He had, however, also requested that he be brought into the inner workings of her plan in return for preserving her secret.
Stricken with drowsiness, Zelda had rashly agreed.
From then on, Rorro had made it routine to visit each night. It was always at the same time; right after Zelda had slipped into bed, allowing the warm haziness of delirium to coat her lashes and whisk her into a false slumber. As the sinking sensation of sleep would cascade over her body in a tidal wave, it would bring with it the heavyset tap of Rorro's clinking armor intruding into her room. Even as her illness had reached its crest and the week had stretched thin, he had continued to uphold this practice, much to Zelda's disgruntlement.
In the beginning, the nightly meet-ups were - in fairness - a bit intriguing. Rorro would detail the intel he'd gathered from the other guards throughout the day; delving into trivialities such as odd weather patterns or suspicious sightings, all before he'd spend a greater portion of their time discussing the new orders that had been designated by King Daltus. These conversations provided a crack of light into a secluded world, showcasing a different viewpoint surrounding Link's predicament for Zelda - something which had initially been invaluable to her.
But, as these nights continued to press onwards and Rorro could only bring forth stale information, these meet-ups had become more and more mundane; merely stealing crumbs of sleep from her fragile state. She had begun to dread his eventual appearance throughout the week, whilst simultaneously feeling like there was nothing she could do about it. She felt trapped.
Oddly enough, a pestering voice in the back of her head had grown, strange and demure, and it would flitter to the surface whenever Rorro visited. This voice would implore her to refrain from any retaliation or pushback, fearful that if she did so, he might break his promise and alert the royal brigade of her plan. Zelda hadn't been sure where this anxiety had materialized from, having never truly mistrusted Rorro prior to unveiling the details of her adventure. In that case, she had chalked up her discomforting response to mere exhaustion.
Even still, she had withheld herself, choosing to power through their nightly meetings with a tight-lipped smile instead.
Moreover, across the duration of this dreary week, sleep had evaded her in the mornings and afternoons. Even though she had already been cooped up in her bed, at least a dozen interchangeable maids had been sicced on her, tasked to tend to her from head to toe. Hardly an hour could pass without a sly maid peeking into Zelda's room, stationed with a platter full of medicine, boiling water, towels, and reheated soup.
To bide her time throughout the waking hours, Zelda had continued to slog away on the Picori Festival preparations. She had requested that any and all paperwork linked to the Picori Festival be transferred to her room, where she could work on drumming up vendor contracts and proposition statements from the confines of her lavish bed. As the week flew by, so, too, did the days remaining before the festival celebrations were slated to commence. From six days, to five days, to four days, to three…
Though, in fairness, Zelda wasn't sure if the Picori Festival would even fruitfully come to pass this year, with Link still enrobed in chiseled rock.
Link had still been rotting as time continued to pass, trapped behind an unlabeled bookshelf in a dusty, poorly-lit room. Zelda had felt miserable - not just due to her blocked sinuses or lack of proper sleep - no, Zelda had felt like she had failed Link. She feared that she had been using her sickness and the thunderous storm as a hollow excuse, knowing that Link would've continued forward in a battered state amongst the tumultuous weather if it had been Zelda who had been imprisoned in stone. Plus, the longer she remained cooped up in her room, thumbed beneath the watchful eye of the better half of the castle staff, the longer Link decayed and eroded; and the longer Vaati was free to do as he pleased.
Zelda had decided, then, to do the only thing she possibly could do for Link whilst she had been holed up in her room. She had decided to draw; to recreate those fanciful and mystical images that had plagued her mind from the Picori Incantations book she had seen in Minister Potho's office.
In any splinter of free time she had been gifted - if she hadn't been trying to rest - Zelda had attempted to transcribe those complex patterns and blurbs of outdated text. She'd felt some ineffable pull to study them, with that rattling voice in the back of her head guiding her along, pulling the images from the recesses of her mind and searing them against her pupils every time her eyelids swept shut.
Perhaps doing that would help Link at least, she'd tell herself; propelled by the watery voice that murmured hopeful candor in her mind.
Truly, with everything that had been said and done, Zelda had felt caged and completely helpless, imprisoned in her room with little more than the shadows to turn to. She was certain that Link felt this way too, though - penned into murkiness without even so much as visual snow to entertain his frozen stare. She could still recall that unique, punitive feeling; had it seared into her mind, really. If Link felt even a fraction of the loneliness and hysteria she had endured back when she had been forged into an inert monument, then her heart wept tenfold for him. She had experienced that haunting reality for a full, excruciating week. It was almost unimaginable to believe that Link had been living as an effigy for just beyond that time length now, and with no concrete reprieve in sight, either.
Yet, time continued, forever mustering forward. As the lackluster week waved its slinky farewell and a new day began in turn, the freshly emerging morning's greeting seemed almost too good to be true. The frazzled rain had quelled into a polite drizzle, with the sun having sailed into the chalky, rippling sky. Although Zelda had only gleaned the final scraps of the night's embrace prior, her fever had waned significantly as she awoke, with her nose having faded from a deep, marred red into a roughened salmon pink.
At once, even with her eyes still crusted from sleep, the day had already seemed off in some way; unsettling. Zelda had swiftly been proven right in that suspicion, as only a handful of minutes had passed before Rorro had emerged into her room, bearing a dimpled smile. He had barged in with grace, seeking her presence to accompany him on an errand in Hyrule Town, thinking that she'd want to get some fresh air and stretch her languid muscles.
Zelda had agreed faster than her heart could finish a single beat.
That was how she had wound up in Hyrule Town, with her heeled shoes clicking against the rain-soaked pavement as she matched Rorro's stride. The air was crisp and damp, still carrying beads of slow-falling rain. To her left, Rorro strolled at a tolerant pace, carrying a large, royal blue umbrella above their heads with a small dagger pinned to his knight's armor for safety. Zelda lugged a few light boxes from both Rem's Shoe Store and Wheaton & Pita's Bakery in her arms. Rorro had offered to take them over a dozen times, but Zelda insisted on carrying them herself.
Despite the fact that rainwater continued to slosh between the cracks in the sidewalk and that any dirt-covered terrain had transformed into a sticky marsh, it was beautiful beneath the gray murkiness in Hyrule Town. With the brunt of the storm having passed, a few of the town's vendors had even stationed themselves in their dedicated spots outside again, using large, steeled umbrellas that they had plunged into the ground to protect them from the lingering, gloomy drizzle.
It was then that her eyes locked onto an assortment of glossy bottles in her peripheral vision, stationed at one particular stall that was located just beyond the structure of the Chest Mini-Game Shop. Her footsteps halted as her gaze lingered, drawn towards the always-mesmerizing sight.
Some of the containers she saw were merely empty, sitting in a disheveled heap near the back of the stall, whilst the remaining containers that were proudly displayed housed glowing orbs in nearly every hue of the rainbow. These orbs bumbled idly in their glass prisons - buzzing in crisp shades of blue, white, yellow - with their edges blurred and distorted into a nebulous point.
Her gaze lingered a moment longer than she intended, only noted as a shrill voice called to her from just beyond the visible wares that she had stopped to ogle. "Ah, Princess Zelda! A pleasure to see you!"
There, sitting dutifully beneath one such wide-brimmed, steel umbrella was Beedle - the ever-smiling merchant who ran the Picolyte stall and the owner of the voice that had jarred her from her thoughts. He sat as he always did; barefoot, with the soles of his feet nearly touching. He was clad in the same yellow-toned shorts that he always wore, and was still oddly devoid of even the faintest whisper of fabric on his torso amidst the gloomy weather outside. A toothy grin was stretched onto his tanned face, making his rather long, oblong-shaped head stand out cheerily, with his scruffy freckles and cheesy bowl cut providing him with his signature, striking look.
"Always a pleasure to see you as well, Beedle," Zelda replied, cordially. She shifted her blue eyes from the bottled Picolyte that lay before her onto his lithe frame. "I must say, it's quite a surprise to see you selling your wares even amongst the rain today."
A short, crinkly chuckle escaped Beedle. "Well, today was the first day when the rain started to subside. I can't horde the health benefits of the Picolyte I've found from the rest of Hyrule. It's doubly needed after the extreme weather we've been having!"
Zelda couldn't resist the grin that unfurled from her lips at his bizarre, yet wholly endearing antics. She replied with an amused, "I suppose you're right."
"In any case," he continued, closing his eyes in thought, "Were you by chance interested in my wares today?" He propped one eye open again before pointing his finger in the direction of a quaint, seashell-toned bottle that was perched right in front of him. Inside, a glowing red orb stirred, fizzing with unrest and unbridled energy. "Red Picolyte in particular is said to restore health. It could come in handy after the storm we've been enduring! For you, Princess Zelda, I'll lower the price to a mere 100 rupees."
Zelda couldn't refrain from smiling, regaled by his aberrant etiquette. Regardless, she still shook her head in softhearted refusal. "I truly appreciate it, Beedle, but I'm in no need of Picolyte at the moment."
Beedle hummed, with a thoughtful expression tugging on his lips. "No worries at all, your highness." His gaze lowered, with something peculiar and entreating simmering just behind his mousy eyes. His next words were stiff and slightly creaky, spilling from his mouth almost uncontrollably. "However, since you're here, I did have a question I wanted to ask you. If you don't mind, that is."
Inexplicably, a sweltry, concave pit formed in Zelda's stomach. The atmosphere swirled, shifting into a web of brazen discomfort. "Of course," she carefully responded. A quiver of wind suddenly whistled through the air, shooting chilled fear into her fast-beating heart. "Feel free to ask me whatever is on your mind. Hopefully I'll be able to provide a useful answer."
Beedle's eyes quickly averted hers, landing on an empty glass bottle instead. "Do you happen to know where Link has been for the last week or so? He's… well, truthfully, he's always been my best customer here." He seized the fabric near one of the opening legs of his shorts, pulling at the loose threads anxiously. "Without him here as of late, the business has been a bit too… quiet."
Zelda's composure stiffened at his words, contorting into tangible discomfort. "Link's whereabouts?" Her fingers flexed impulsively, pressing into the edges of the boxes she held a tad harder than intended and crimping the thin cardboard. "Out of curiosity, why are you asking me?"
Beedle's head hung low, his chin resting near the seams of his shoulder blades. "None of the other townsfolk seem to know, and I thought it'd be more likely that you would know his whereabouts, considering that he saved you and all of Hyrule only a few years ago."
"Right," she replied impersonally. Her voice had tingled with a vague note of raspiness - though, whether from the lingering dregs of her illness or the sudden unease that consumed her, she didn't know. That painful knot of anxiety coiled in her body once again, nearly toppling her over from its sheer mental weight. I have to lie, and quick, she thought, her words echoing and ringing hollowly even within her own mind, I can't tell Beedle the truth. "Link… Link left to visit a friend of his grandfather's, actually. To help on a smithing project. He should be returning soon." Zelda plastered a candied smile onto her face, hoping to the goddesses above that the stress she held within her veins did not unravel itself and betray her.
Beedle simply nodded, seemingly unaware of her internal conflict. "Ah, I see! Thank you for the clarification! It's great to finally get an answer," he mumbled, with a bittersweet smile overtaking his features. "I sure hope he returns soon. I have a new collection of Picolyte that I think he'd be quite interested in..."
Zelda retained her plastic facade, replying seamlessly, "I'll be sure to let him know as soon he returns."
Beedle's eyes twinkled, with comic stars nearly popping into life from his jubilant aura. "Wonderful! Thank you so much, Princess Zelda. I look forward to it!"
Her painted exterior was fading, plummeting into a private abyss. Zelda's stomach corkscrewed, her skull withered, and her heart ached. She turned her head, with her hair whipping boldly from the rapid movement, and propped a free hand up in Beedle's direction. She murmured a quickened, "Me too. Have a wonderful day," beneath her breath, before briskly taking off.
She didn't see Beedle's furrowed brow, nor his uncaring, confused shrug as she sauntered away into the gray mist.
Zelda's footsteps reverberated loudly against the soiled asphalt, rattling in tandem with her dramatic stride. The boxes in her hands stamped against each other with every shaky step, and her frantic march seemed to duplicate itself in noise - only magnifying the delirious uproar that had fervently begun to drown her mind. She hardly registered the swollen drops of rain that landed upon her head, as the sheltering umbrella that had initially escorted her to the plaza had been all but blotted from her mind entirely.
All she could focus on was the sky, which suddenly seemed much grayer and murkier than before. The atmosphere was harsh and rigid; wholly unnerving. It joyously sucked the circulating air from Zelda's weakened lungs, making her bones feel more akin to fruit pulp. She hardly had time to care, though, as she heedlessly allowed her footsteps to carry her onward in the direction of Hyrule Castle.
"Princess Zelda," a soft, polished voice called. Zelda hardly registered it, though, as she continued barreling forward. Opaque puffs of breath trailed behind her ceaseless form, billowing into the air from her temperate, shallow panting. "Princess Zelda, please wait!"
It was then that understanding overcame her, and she instantaneously halted her steps. She whirled her body around, with her eyes narrowing onto Rorro's short-winded form approaching her.
"Oh," she muttered, the soggy feeling of awkwardness climbing up her neck, "My apologies, Rorro."
The guardsman came to a stop by her side, frowning. He inhaled a greedy breath of air before extending his arm, positioning the umbrella that he still held in his grasp over Zelda's shuddering frame. He spoke dutifully, leveling his voice into a benign lilt, "Are you okay? You took off a bit quickly back there - even forgetting about me, it seems."
Zelda sluggishly bowed her head in humiliation, her throat feeling dry and tight from her shortened sprint. "Right," was all she said, her voice quiet and meek. She turned her body away from Rorro again, ambling back toward Hyrule Castle as if nothing had transpired. Her footsteps brushed against the concrete with a slackened thrum; her tear ducts holding back salty, unshed tears. "No need to worry about me."
"Hey," Rorro spoke, his voice sounding stern and loosely tamped with sympathy. He followed her steps just an inch to her left, sustaining the umbrella over her head just as he had on their way into town. "You know that you can trust me, right? Please, princess, tell me what's on your mind. I thought you'd be delighted to come to Hyrule Town with me after having been cooped up for so long."
Her pupils hugged the corners of her eyes as she peered up at him. "I… I am," she replied, releasing a sigh with her words. "It's not that. I just feel awful lying about Link's condition. Obviously, I can't tell anyone the truth, but it feels disgraceful as a princess to lie to the townspeople." She glanced back towards the boxes in her hands, forlorn, before she quietly tacked on, "I worry I won't be able to save Link at all at this rate…"
Rorro clucked his tongue opposingly. "Your highness, you've done more for Link by yourself than an entire fleet of guards have been able to do in a little over a week. You will definitely save Link. Honestly, I feel confident that you'll even be able to save him sooner than you think."
She swirled her head to lock her eyes fully onto his, with her chin nearly grazing the top of the boxes she held. "You think so?"
"I know so."
They walked in amiable silence, then. The buildings they passed faded in a jagged, crumbly blur, and the clouds overhead simmered in the murky sky, spilling their tears without hesitation. Zelda's head continued to bumble with unknown worries and pockets of anger, feeling anything but content and quiet. The days leading up to the present had melted in the blink of an eye, and yet, she was still no closer to saving Link than she was a week ago. How was she going to restore him and the Four Sword before the Picori Festival at this rate? This is a mess. There are only three days left; what am I even going to do? What will people say if we host the festival and Link isn't there?
Zelda hardly noticed when her footsteps transferred onto squelching, caked mud - her memory leading her across the grassy path in North Hyrule Field straight to Hyrule Castle.
She had only taken four measly steps before a gentle voice called to her, the noise barely reaching her ears. "Princess Zelda?"
But her mind was a minefield and her concentration was in turmoil, laboring and pleading for her to block out all distractions and focus on her surroundings for a chance at peace. So, she focused on the jammy, sinking sensation from her shoes pressing across the field, on the curved pathway that zig-zagged through a multitude of towering trees, and on the dazzling rain that raked across the blank umbrella above her.
Anything to purge the unpleasant thoughts that fiercely tormented her mind.
Suddenly, a heavy, sturdy hand that was plated in iron landed upon her shoulder, breaking her from the immersion she had cultivated.
"Princess Zelda, I know you're still upset. However, I have some news that might interest you," Rorro whispered. "I had to wait until we were outside of Hyrule Town, just in case others may have overheard. I think now would be a perfect time, though."
Zelda's pointed ears twitched, snapping her attention back onto Rorro. She lowered her voice to match his, "Oh? What is it?"
His irises darkened into a hue not dissimilar to a cup of milky coffee, with his voice mimicking syrup and honey, "Earlier today, I received intel that there was finally speculation on the location of the Earth Element. King Daltus assigned me to investigate those rumors tonight." Zelda's gaze remained pinned on him, intrigue and disbelief churning in her eyes. "Initially, I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell you about this, since I know you're still dealing with the tail end of your illness. However, it seems like you needed to hear some good news, and I suppose an offer still stands if you feel up to it…" His words trailed off, collapsing into unsaid questions amongst the wind.
Zelda swore she almost dropped the items she still held. "Y-you're asking me to join you tonight?"
"I never specifically said that," Rorro playfully countered.
Her nose scrunched in mild distaste, her voice dripping with mock reproach, "You know you could get in a lot of trouble if you were caught helping me sneak out, right?"
"I know," Rorro said, "But we've been working together for nearly a week now, ever since you told me about what you've been doing in secret. I could have gotten caught at any moment, sharing the privatized intel I'd been receiving with you - but I haven't." He fiddled with a piece of steel that jutted from his armor, averting his gaze onto a clump of drowned weeds. "If you'd like, I can retrieve you from your bedroom's balcony window as the guard schedules switch tonight. That's when I've been tasked to examine the rumored location of the Earth Element."
"Where were you tasked to look for the Earth Element?"
"The Minish Woods."
How odd, Zelda thought, pinning her stare onto a patchy formation of clouds, I thought Master Smith tried to look for it in the Minish Woods earlier without any luck. Why would it be there now? That nagging voice in the back of her mind bubbled to the surface again, bristly and disapproving and tense. She should listen to it; knew that she hadn't been steered wrong by it before, and yet…
Her mouth moved before her thoughts could finish, hot excitement burning in her core, "I'll go with you," Zelda declared.
"Really?"
"Really," she said. Her frantic thoughts roared louder once again, revving to life, and yet she laboriously concealed them. Instead, she thought about clutching the near complete set of the Four Elements, only short by one - the Wind Element - which she would still have two whole days to detect and exhume. If she could retrieve the Earth Element tonight, then, truly - she felt that saving Link would still be possible. Probable, even.
In any case, it was a chance she had to take, as her options were swiftly dwindling.
"Wonderful!" Rorro exclaimed. "Before I leave my post tonight, I'll tap on your balcony window."
Although Zelda was frightened, new momentum shined in her eyes; the first rays of twirling hope after a dull storm. "Thank you so much, Rorro."
"It's my pleasure, your highness."
They had just passed a peculiar arch of trees as a fresh gust of wind picked up, ruffling the long coat Zelda had decided to wear over her dress. Her hair swayed by her cheeks and mussed the silky texture, much to her annoyance, and the fabric of her outfit billowed in the breeze and splayed her jacket pockets open - pouring in spoonfuls of the airy current.
"Princess," Rorro suddenly blurted, breaking the comforting silence that had momentarily engulfed them. He cast his questioning gaze back onto her, furrowing his eyebrows before remarking, "Apologies for prying, but, I couldn't help but notice an odd flashing light coming from your coat pocket just now."
Zelda puckered her eyebrows in response, shuffling through her memory for clarity. After a handful of lethargic seconds, her mind circled to life and jogged into utility, with her eyebrows shooting upwards to showcase her inner recollection. "Ah, right! Well, it's nothing exciting," she said, "I've been carrying this odd Kinstone piece I found the other day with me, just in case. I've actually never seen anything quite like it before."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Here," Zelda quickly shuffled the small stack of boxes she held, bolstering them beneath the entire length of one of her arms, to which Rorro reacted with a tight, disapproving frown. With her newly acquired free hand, she dug into the recesses of the offending pocket, catching onto the sharpened edge of the Kinstone piece and surfacing it between herself and Rorro. The gold dusting sparkled notably in her gentle hold, catching onto the gray light and reflecting the cool-toned rays. The lavender shell underneath remained unscratched, with the half-scribbled etching that marked the center appearing just as confusing as always. "This is the Kinstone piece. It's quite strange, right?"
Immediately, Rorro's demeanor shifted, and blatant excitement washed over his normally measured expression. "No way," he mumbled. He clutched the cloth pouch he'd had equipped to his waist - typically just utilized for rupees and shopping lists - and delved his hand inside. An icy beat passed before his hand returned, holding what appeared to be the matching Kinstone piece. "I'd found this Kinstone piece on my own a few days prior. I also thought it seemed strange!"
Yet again, confusion and unease gripped Zelda in its ironclad hold.
They were nearing Hyrule Castle's entrance gates when Rorro's agile steps came to a rest. "Let's fuse them!" he said, his voice saturated in unnatural exuberancy. Without affording Zelda the opportunity to decline, Rorro hastily propelled his Kinstone piece toward hers, far too rapidly for her to yank her arm back and rebuff the action. A nervous shudder surged through her veins as the misaligned creases anchored together, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to flicker and become submerged in spiraling, blackout silence.
But all too soon, a perfect click resounded from the attached Kinstone pieces, and a dazzling light shot from the center, glimmering in streaks of yellow and white. The center imagery unveiled itself, though it only appeared even more confusing somehow; showcasing a chaotic set of interlinking lines and circular divots in seemingly sporadic patterns.
The falling rain increased its tempo, adding to the sinister aura that consumed the pair. A smile pinched Rorro's cheeks, not quite reaching his eyes, as he enthusiastically proclaimed, "This means we're in store for good luck, then. What great timing!"
A sticky glob of saliva suddenly got caught in Zelda's throat; whether from her waning sickness or her abrupt, unnecessarily high-strung nerves, she didn't know. All she could do was nod in agreement to Rorro's statement, her eyes glued to the newly completed Kinstone.
Starlight shined brilliantly through her rain-coated window, with the waxing moon spouting its distinctive ethereal glow just above. Outside, the storm's brutality had picked up once again, with lightning rods streaming like falling spears and thunder jostling the very tendrils of the earth.
Zelda paced her frigid bedroom, dressed in various layers of thick, concealing fabric. Anxiety swept through her bloodstream as she fidgeted with a leather satchel by her side, packed to the brim with assorted equipment she'd caught sight of in her room. Namely, the Grip Ring and Hookshot she had used to procure the Fire Element, a Boomerang Master Smith had lent her, and the mystifying Ocarina of Wind that Siroc had bestowed upon her not long ago. She had also strapped a full quiver onto her back and secured her polished bow on her person, in the event that they ended up fighting any unfettered monsters.
She was beyond tired and mentally drained, with her mind still foggy from congestion and confusion. Countless sleepless nights and constant anxiety will do that, Zelda mused. Though, she definitely felt that something was off about the night, regardless of her weakened state. The shadows seemed sootier and the air felt more compact and suffocating… or, perhaps it was all in her mind, she supposed. It was becoming hard to tell.
Despite the nauseating feeling of dread that pervaded her footsteps, there was no other choice for her to make. She had to save Link; it had been said time and time again… if she didn't do this, no one else would be able to in her place. This was her one, true chance at locating and securing the Earth Element. She had to do this.
Whatever it took.
A choppy, watery knock resounded near her window. Zelda froze mid-step, careening her head toward the source of the sound. She noticed the opaque silhouette of an armored glove just beyond the glass, and she released a breath she didn't know she had been holding.
She sauntered to her balcony window and unlatched the stiff lock with a satisfying click, smoothly pushing the glass open afterward. "Rorro?" she whispered into the night sky.
"Present," he murmured in return. Zelda plucked her head further out of her window, noticing Rorro perched on a loose brick just beneath the windowpane. Excitement shined behind his eyes as he added, "Are you ready to head out? A new guard will be coming to replace my shift in a minute or two."
She swallowed a shaky, loose figment of air. All of the previous angst and foreboding she had felt returned full force just from seeing his visage. But, Zelda reminded herself - in a broken, distorted mantra - Rorro had proven to be safe. Rorro could be trusted.
"Okay," she said, digging her trimmed nails into her palms, "I'm ready."
"Perfect. Follow me." He stole a glance downward, confirming the distance between his suspended body and the ground, before dropping his hold. He landed on the muddied terrain, spraying clumps of sludge in his wake. He dusted his armor-clad hands together, ridding them of any dirt and debris, and then cupped them by his mouth, carrying his sunken voice further above, "I need to switch shifts with the incoming guard, so you can drop down and hide behind those bushes right -" he paused, motioning his index finger toward a clump of densely-packed shrubbery, "- over there. I'll come and collect you afterward, and then we'll walk by the perimeter of the western bushes to avoid any potential eyes on us. Sound good?"
Zelda could only bow her head accordingly, the words in her mouth feeling tacky and ensnared. With a final prayer above, she clutched onto the windowsill and swung her body over the ledge - just like she had done so many times prior. This is still just like those times, she thought, hoping to instill fresh confidence within herself as her feet dangled inches above the ground. Those times were for Link, too. Just like it is now.
She closed her eyes and released her hands, tasting the regretful flavor of acrimony lodged in the back of her throat as she fell.
Her iron-plated boots hit the ground with a forceful thud, and before she could even catch her breath or pacify her wobbling vision, Rorro had latched his hand onto her upper arm in a protective hold. Her gaze locked onto his much steadier, compassionate stare, and beneath the rain and dwindling moonlight, she could see the unwavering certainty he carried with him. The crinkle of doubt that had been swelling in her chest, weathering her emotions tenfold, began to smooth from his implicit sincerity alone.
But all too soon, he was tugging her toward the left, forcing her to press ahead. "Hide behind those bushes, quick," he whispered, a brassy command inlaid in his tone. As if on cue, the distinctive shuffling of metallic armor trampling atop wet cement hit her ears, punctuating Rorro's insistent order.
"Alright," came her tense reply. Moving quickly, she adopted a heavy stride toward the foliage, landing evenly on the balls of her feet to taper any residual noise. Once there, it only took her a handful of seconds to scramble behind the bushes and wedge herself between the bumpy stone border and overgrown vines, settled in a low squat. It was an all-too-familiar hiding spot, making her think of sunrise visits to Link and the swaddling scent of melted ore.
Instinctively, Zelda brushed a thick concentration of greenery aside, crafting a lopsided hole for her to use to scope out the unfolding scenery. She was still close enough to faintly see Rorro's lanky form, now pressed against the gray wall beneath her balcony window, blurred by the cascading rain. Abrupt motion made her eyes lurch toward a marching figure nearby, covered in hardened armor and rapidly approaching Rorro's post.
It didn't take long before the chiming of metal on asphalt pinched into obscurity, and a booming, baritone voice pealed into the dripping starlit sky, "Hey there, Rorro! Good to see you!" The harsh clink of metal on metal echoed amongst the garden beds, and Zelda could vaguely see this new figure's gloved hand perched atop Rorro's shoulder blade.
"Right," Rorro mumbled in return, casually slipping out of the other guard's greeting, "You as well."
The new guard cackled aloud, bolting his hands to his waist in reverie. "Ah, still as reserved as ever, I see. It's no matter." Zelda watched him teeter into a shrug, releasing a balmy wisp of air into the bleak atmosphere. His grating voice lowered a notch, but was luckily still detectable to her pointed ears, "King Daltus was really pleased that you uncovered more information about the Earth Element, but be safe searching for it tonight, okay? The storm has really picked up again."
She raised a curious eyebrow. Something about that phrasing didn't sit right with her, but she couldn't quite place why. Some amalgamation of an answer hovered in the back of her foggy, sleep-deprived mind - caught dangling in a boundless expanse, but always just out of reach.
Or… was she just imagining it, looking for a problem where none existed to begin with? Rorro hasn't lied to me yet, she reminded herself.
The thought remained until she heard Rorro utter an emotionless parting of, "Thanks, will do," and his powerful footsteps inched toward her hidden position, his armored figure shadowed by lowlight. That wholly devouring, off-putting trepidation heightened in her core again, sealing her in ribbons of indecision. But I'm already here, she mused, watching Rorro's growing silhouette stomp toward her direction. Worried or not, there's nothing I can do but continue forward.
Zelda anxiously prepared to escape into the vicious, untraveled night; any burning questions or inquisitive assumptions she held drowned in the rain, lost at sea in a forgotten ocean.
"Wow," Zelda murmured, her vision flickering from blades of drooping grass to the splintered twigs that littered the marshy ground around them, "It's quite beautiful here, don't you think?"
Rorro merely shrugged, a quiet grunt of acknowledgment rolling from his lips.
The Minish Woods were absolutely breathtaking; a true sight to behold. Even in the dead of night, struck beneath heavy globs of rain and steady prongs of lightning, the land still simmered in a divine richness that was nearly impossible to come across in any other area of Hyrule. As Zelda and Rorro waded through the thick sheet of duskiness that lay before them, the allaying sanctity that imbued the land offered a blanket of comfort to them in their pursuit of the Earth Element, reassuring Zelda of her decision to tag along on this mission.
Their footsteps trampled atop the mud-caked terrain in unison, with Rorro several paces ahead. He effortlessly steered the duo along the bosky pathways that painted the Minish Woods - even clearing the numerous forked passages that they traversed without crosschecking a map, much to Zelda's amazement. The trails that they followed only weaved deeper and deeper into the woods, with the pair climbing above ingrained tree roots, swatting stalks of ivy and thorns away from their bodies, and skipping atop half-buried rocks to avoid viscous muck along the way.
They trekked through one such narrow route, tracing the rock saucers below their boots and stomping through dirtied puddles, before they quickly came to an end. The passage had spat them out into a diminutive area that housed only a mushy patch of grass and a single, churlish tree stump ingrained in the center. Next to the bizarre sight, another vine-ridden pathway seemed to lay in waiting, positioned just to their right.
Whilst Rorro had wordlessly begun forging ahead, Zelda stilled. Her attention veered to the odd tree stump that sat alone, saturated by the pouring rain. A star-shaped hole small enough to be covered by her palm was etched into the center. Just like the one on the ice sculpture in Lake Hylia, Zelda mused. Timeworn rings circled its base, displaying its age in worldly grandeur on its trunk and spilling stories from a distant time she'd never known of before. It appeared to be quite sturdy, and it hummed with an aura of mysticism as she examined it.
Thoughtlessly, a question sunk weakly from Zelda's foggy breath, "This is an interesting tree stump… have you seen anything like this before, Rorro?"
Only silence followed.
Zelda's head shot upwards, her tired eyes combing the area for any sign of him. Nothing but the streaming rain, woodland spectacles, and that peculiar stump in front of her was visible. She seemed to be fully alone; abandoned.
Instinctively, Zelda wrenched her skirt's hem into her grasp and held it by her thigh, allowing increased fluidity in her movements. She drew in a terse breath of air before taking off, scuttling through the last passageway she'd seen Rorro dip behind.
Her legs carried her through the precarious path, hurtling her forward with dizzying momentum. All of her personal fears and uncertainties resurfaced, and all of those warning directives she's heard about not being alone in the Minish Woods at nighttime flooded her thoughts. The dull color palette around her blurred as her mind whirled in tandem; flaring to life.
To her, it had felt like hours had passed as she ran, with her overtired mind depicting everything through a hazy sludge. In reality, it had only been seconds - no sooner realized than when her body collided with something metallic and robust not long after her jog began.
She groaned aloud, her neck and chest stinging from the hardened impact. A rumbling voice briskly fell to her ear, silencing her, "Shhh, quiet down."
Ah, that's Rorro's voice, she thought blearily. Her eyes were pinched shut and she held her head in her hands, kneading slow circles against her temples. I'm glad he wasn't far.
"Princess Zelda," Rorro whispered, an edge of tense exhilaration woven in his voice, "Please keep your voice down. Monsters are more common in this area, and we wouldn't want to attract any to us." He paused, and Zelda almost swore she could feel the beaming grin framed on his face as he spoke again, "Especially not with the Earth Element just ahead."
Through the wash of her lightheadedness, Zelda craned her neck up towards his voice, with her eyelids splitting back open in a daze. Her vision was a flimsy sheet of darkness for a moment before that swirling curtain faded and her gaze fully absorbed the image before her.
A crystalline pond - almost too idyllic and uniform - was nestled near a luxuriant concentration of leaves and varying berries. Beige mushroom stems could be seen bundled around the infrastructure, with dotted red and blue caps showcasing an assortment of patterns; the sight alone evoked memories of Link's stories, with him detailing the pristine environments of the Minish and their buildings built from clovers. Back when he journeyed with Ezlo, she recalled absentmindedly.
"Over there," she heard Rorro mutter. The grit in his lowered voice was palpable, harsh, as his finger shined a spotlight beyond the peaceful scenery that Zelda had been gawking at. Her head turned in the direction he pointed, her breath hitching in her throat.
Positioned on the other side of their surroundings, a middling white shrine rested, almost vibrating with life. Its marbled architecture glimmered underneath the swaddling moonlight and storm clouds, with its pearly pillars of ivory and cream shining in the low light. The shrine was unquestionably heart-stopping, truly glorious in its structural build, but it wasn't what had clutched at Zelda's heartstrings and silenced her vocal cords.
There, bathed underneath the weathering elements that continued to prevail in a fury around them, was the Earth Element itself. It sat atop the shrine, tangled in strands of coiling ivy and shining the color of a wilted orchid. It seemed unnatural, placed incorrectly, but it was still the Earth Element. It had to be.
That nagging voice surfaced in her mind again, but Zelda shuttered it before it could confuse her and enrobe her in fictional woes. Her eyes felt like they were deceiving her, pulling her into falsity, but her feet still fluttered forward, leading her along.
She passed speckles of moss, mud-caked craters, and a ribbon of water before she finally stood in reach of the Earth Element. Anxiety whirled to life in her core, prickly and harrowing, but she still reached forward, hand outstretched. She still took hold of the Earth Element.
A painless minute passed, and Zelda felt a gust of relief when nothing occurred. She emptied a stale breath; all of her worries dissipating as she cradled her newfound prize.
She spun on her heels, her eyes scrunched in utter joy. "Rorro, you were right! It was the Earth Element -"
For the second time that night, her ability to speak failed her.
Rorro stood paces away, evaporating. His flesh came undone like strings of loose fabric, before ultimately melting into oblivion and fading into the droplets that hailed from the sky. His face appeared gaunt and shallow, and his eyes were dull - not like the fallen leaves they had once so brightly resembled. His mouth had slackened into a thin line, and no ounce of pain or remorse flickered across his stoic, lifeless expression. He was gone. He was nothingness.
Her hands shook frantically; her skin paled. She felt sick to her stomach and deathly afraid. So, so afraid. With her thrashing heart, she tried to switch her mind on - akin to an Armos. She had to think, and she had to think fast.
As she watched the final remnants of Rorro's hollow shell flicker into oblivion, a numbing thought crossed her mind. She was stuck - lodged in a twisted, compact area - with no map to guide her home. No one knew where she was, it was the dead of night, and a rancorous storm still bristled overhead.
Trapped, the word rang in her head, gut-punching her from the inside. Zelda dropped the Earth Element in her hand, favoring her grip on the smooth wood of her bow as she unclipped it from its sling and hoisted it in front of her; composed toward an imaginary threat. She nocked a leaden arrow and inhaled nervously, smelling the earthy petrichor that cloaked the Minish Woods.
She was trapped.
Suddenly, a new image began to materialize before her, in the place where Rorro had been. Particles of cells and fabric and life stitched together with ease, smoothing at the seams and mending into shape. Particle upon particle of varying colors - lavenders, browns, purples, reds - all fastened in conjunction within a whirlwind barrage, bustling in a hurry from the wind's ushered guidance.
It wasn't until the figure's searing crimson eye opened, with a gaze predatory and malicious, that Zelda felt her blood grow cold.
"Ah, princess," Vaati's boastful voice sang, "How truly wonderful this is. I almost doubted that you'd fall for my plan, truly, I did. I thought you must be smarter than that, and yet… here you are." A wolfish grin settled on his face, his gaze peering into the very fibers of her soul.
She was terrified. She was panicked, and frightened, and nervous, and tense.
And yet, she was not paralyzed.
All of those times that Vaati had taunted her, goaded her into irrationality and exhaustion, toyed with her, tormented her… it flooded her with pure, white-hot rage. Moments with Link flashed in her mind; his laugh, his comfort, his courage. Everything that Vaati had done to her, taken from her, was splayed before her in her mind. Fire burned in her lungs, and finally - finally - Zelda found herself shouting back at him, poised to shoot, "Vaati, you… you monster! Tell me what you've done to Rorro!"
Vaati raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Rorro? You mean the mirage I conjured to lure you here?"
Her stance faltered a smidge - imperceptibly - and her eyes narrowed, creasing in disbelief. "Mirage?" The word felt like poison on the tip of her tongue, eroding layer upon layer with despair.
"You still haven't figured it out?" Vaati scoffed, crossing his arms against his chest. "That guard was merely a figment of the wind itself, controlled by my will. Who you've really been talking to this whole time has been me."
The fire that had blistered so painfully hot in her mind wavered at his words. How did I not realize…? The countless nights of forced exhaustion, the hasty agreement to collect the Four Elements in unison, the fusion of their Kinstone pieces… in retrospect, it was obvious. Yet, in the haze of delirium she had unwillingly succumbed to, her trust had been blurred, and she had accepted Rorro's - no, Vaati's - fabricated motives without question.
The bow she had previously clutched wobbled in her grasp, suddenly feeling like it had amassed the weight of a Goron. Her stance reeled back, defeated, and her bow fell, hanging loosely by her side. The arrow she had notched slid to the ground in succession, flopping into the mud limply.
"You've been the one chaperoning me, providing me false information, and forcing me awake with pointless stories this whole time?" Zelda murmured, the edge of her voice crumbling as her heart thrummed tirelessly against her fragile ribcage. "All of that was…" Fake, the word echoed across her subconscious, caught on her lips as if encased in tar.
Memories spun in her mind like a lively waterwheel, most obscured and smudged behind a fogged lens. Rorro's sincere, toothy grin, his penchant for helping, his gentle demeanor - all of which had been little more than a ruse. Puzzle pieces colored with the sapphire-black strands of his hair and the tawny brown of his eyes fell into place, clouding her thoughts. He had seemed so real and so helpful, and yet, perhaps his willingness to help was the blaring sign she had missed all along.
Vaati snickered, summoning Zelda back to the present. "Well, I certainly felt like we'd grown quite close, at least," he remarked, each word piercing her as if spoken from a dagger. "But, if you're so bothered, why don't I conjure up someone who will definitely make you feel better?"
Without warning, Vaati twirled his wrist, and bubbling magic began dancing at his pale fingertips. He murmured a hushed spell beneath his breath, too quiet for Zelda to decipher. In the blink of an eye, torrents of wind emerged and eagerly began shifting their structure, converging over Vaati's solid stance. Once again, enchanted flesh and forged textiles mingled, whispering from ash before condensing into a stable silhouette. The Minish Woods seemed to still as the display jumbled before her, with only the consistent impact of rain against earth producing any noise in the cramped grassland
Before her now, Vaati had vanished. In his place, a waxy figure had emerged - warm, inviting, familiar. As artificial life entered this new being's eyes, Zelda's heart leaped; lodged itself in her parched throat. Who stood before her now, solely invoked by magic, was all too real and all too unwelcome in her presently shaken state.
"Zelda? Is that you?" His voice was as golden and silky as she had remembered, with his muddled blue eyes sparkling like fresh dew drops. His unmistakable phrygian cap bobbed atop his unruly mop of blond hair, swaying loosely in the shimmering breeze, beckoning Zelda to reach out and adjust it.
"Link…"
Foolishly, she extended her trembling hand, longing to wrap her arms around Link's sturdy torso and rest her tired eyes on his shoulder. She missed him; missed his windchime laughter and candied heart. But not like this, she tried to remind herself, forcing the misaligned association of who this really was into her head. Her outstretched hand reeled back just an inch, her gaze locked onto Link's innocent smile. This isn't Link.
"Zelda, I've missed you so much." It was the sweetest melody she'd heard in weeks, serenading her into deeper devastation. In one swift motion, the figment of Link seized her dangling arm, pulling her into a temperate embrace. Her vision became consumed by the comforting shade of fern green that he always wore, with the pleasant scent of freshly baked bread and grass stains emanating from his tunic.
This isn't Link, she repeated in an internal mantra, toiling to get the cogs in her mind to function. It's Vaati. Not Link. Yet, her lungs felt deflated and withered in her chest, the breath she'd been holding stuck behind an avalanche of emotional turmoil. Lucidly, she was aware that it was Vaati's arms encircling her gingerly, pressing her closer into his chest; not Link's. But, deep down, wedged into the shallowest pits of her core, Zelda truly didn't care anymore. Even the illusion of comfort rendered by this false image of Link sent her heart skyrocketing, wishing and pleading with the goddesses above that everything else around her was merely a tasteless prank.
"I'm so happy to see you," he murmured, his voice carrying the same boyish lilt that Link always had, sending a shiver down Zelda's spine. The sorcerer masquerading as her childhood friend loosened his hold almost imperceptibly, granting a flake of relaxed space between the two. She could tell that he was further taunting her; gifting her a moment - a singular blip in time - to react and pull herself away from the mirage in front of her.
And yet, she didn't. She couldn't.
Zelda recognized the undeniably smug aura radiating from his friendly, forged appearance, making her feel thick-headed and hopeless all at once. In one seamless motion, he pulled her closer with the arm he'd left roped around her waist, ultimately tucking his free hand beneath her chin and gently tilting her face up to look at him. "Well," he hummed, his warm breath caressing her rose-tinted cheeks, "I can tell you missed me just as much, Zelda."
Ice crept down her veins as Link's face neared hers, with all of her thought processes swiftly shortcircuiting. She managed to utter a hoarse, "W-wait, Link - I mean, Vaati," before lazily attempting to yank her body further away from the sorcerer's ironclad grip to little avail.
Her eyelids slammed shut inherently; fearfully. Her whole body tensed and stiffened like dry birch. Panic and thoughtless desire mingled as one, heightening and churning into a thick paste as the seconds squeezed by.
Except, nothing happened.
An amused chuckle ricocheted off of the lanky tree branches, dispersing into the burgeoning wind. Soon after, the warm pressure that had enveloped Zelda's body vanished, removing the pillar of support that had sustained her. Her eyes shot open in dismay as she staggered backward, landing squarely on her haunches. A soft groan escaped her limpid form, tamped into silence as the fizzling dust specks that pollinated the terrain morphed together and materialized in the figure of Vaati again, looming in authority above her.
"How foolish," he mocked, focusing his wry expression on Zelda's deflated profile. "Did you truly believe I was that faulty, so-called hero? Or," he suddenly drawled, raising a violet eyebrow in provocation, "Were you secretly happier it was me all along, hm?"
She sat there, immobilized. The fire that had sweltered within her had been snuffed out, with only the crackling ashes left to lick at her feet. She was tired; so tired. An unpleasant, helpless dread rippled in her blood and in her veins. She had never felt so small before.
Sour tears stewed beneath the covering of her lashes as she locked her cerulean glare onto Vaati, a seething, weary string of words cascading from her lips, "You are nothing more than a pathetic sorcerer, Vaati. You've already terrorized Hyrule once before and failed. What could you even possibly hope to gain this time?"
Rather than counter with rage, like Zelda had thought he might, a sly grin slotted itself onto Vaati's pallid face. "I was hoping you'd ask, my dear princess," he sneered, "Why don't I show you?"
Without another word, Vaati snapped his fingers - the sound resonating in tune with the pattering of rain. His arrogant smirk was the last thing she saw before her world swung and purled and dwindled into blackness.