Chapter 6: Vibrance

Something in the air seemed different in such a way that it was almost surreal, like seeing stars across the sky in broad daylight. Like feeling rain upon one's skin in the most arid desert, during a season historically recorded for droughts. Unnatural and aberrant, yet somehow finding a place to belong.

Even this abandoned room did not seem as gloom-ridden, as it had been when he had found it. The furniture, covered and secluded, filled the empty spaces, like musical notes appearing before a blank music sheet. The trinkets that were scattered on the ground must have been once polished, and rearranged. And the paintings… he could almost envision them up on the walls, each telling a story of their own, each exploring buried memories.

Vibrance.

Because that's what Volga could see right now. In every corner, in every shadow, the colors were no longer various shades of gray - they were vibrant, radiating with a light that was not necessarily visible to the eye, but to the imagery of the mind, and the emotions surfacing within. Each step he took, the vibrance moved with him, with them, its light shining brightest from the very source of it all.

And the poes, as she had called them, must have seen it too, so he couldn't have been entirely stripped of his sanity. Those mysterious creatures had been trying to persuade him through the walls he had encased himself in, whispering to him of promises to take away his fears. Perhaps he had thought that they could take away his abilities too, or even the markings. And in his blind hopes, he was nearly ready to succumb to them, unaware of their intention to sap away his very life. But now, as Volga and Zelda reached the corridors, the poes were the ones afraid, not him.

"That light," one of poes whined, using its dark hands to cover its pale eyes. "It burns… it's too bright. How is this possible?" Volga could hear the disbelief in the poe's tone over its protests.

Zelda remained quiet as she held the lantern. The poe shifted its gaze toward him in accusation. "Your light was dim but a moment ago, dying. And now, with this light here, it's so bright that I cannot even tell one from the other. It's like a glowing beacon."

"Be gone, creature of darkness," Zelda spoke, her voice soft and authoritative, an unusual combination. "There is no prey for you here."

The poe retreated, the others soon following, as if intimidated by her presence. By this mere child, who walked amongst ghosts, and led a dragon down an isolated corridor. From the moment she had made the decision to search for Volga in the darkness, pass by all these poes, and then find out what he was - she had every reason to be frightened, and perhaps a part of her was. Yet here she was at his side.

The familiar warmth of her hand was welcoming to his own, reminding him that she was indeed real.

When they reached the medical wing, Zelda thought at first, that there was no one there. No patients that she could see, the beds empty and clean. Each bed was separated with a rail next to them, holding a curtain for privacy. Behind one of the partially closed curtains however, there was movement from within. And as Zelda approached, it too heard her movements, for it pulled the curtain wide open.

A plump, middle-aged woman appeared, the nurse, holding a tray of medicine supplies that she had been arranging, presumably from the previous patient she had been treating. Relief flooded her features upon spotting Zelda. "Your Highness," she said, bowing. "It is dangerous to be walking about the castle right now. Those awful creatures will be gone soon, but -"

She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening when she noticed the shape of Volga's wings behind the princess. From the wings, her eyes darted to his claw, her tray shaking in her hands. Once she lifted her gaze to the markings on Volga's face, she could no longer hold back her horror. The tray slid away from her hold, falling to the ground with a loud clang. The bottles, pastes, and delicate medical utensils all tumbled around the ground, a glass with distilled water shattering from the impact.

"O-oh dear," said the nurse in apology, slowly recovering from her shock. Zelda leaned over to help her, but she held out a hand. "No, it's quite alright, child. I'll take care of this. It is my mess. But that… you… what are you doing here?" and Zelda could tell that she had meant to say 'what is this doing here', but her words were caught up in her fright.

Zelda blinked back at her. This was a reaction she should have seen coming. Volga may have been used to it, but that didn't mean she was. "We did not intend to startle you," she began, feeling it to be more considerate to refer to Volga as 'we' rather than him alone being the cause of the nurse's response. "I don't think the poes will be of any harm to us at the moment. Impa said they would be leaving by nightfall."

"I came because of him. There was an incident while he was training with Impa," said Zelda, turning to glance at Volga, whose face was completely indiscernible right now. A defensive stature, which spoke of years building barriers around himself for moments like these. Moments that he had undoubtedly, come to accept as part of his very existence.

The princess could almost hear the sarcasm in the nurse's voice.

"An incident?"

"It's nothing, really," said Volga coolly, addressing the nurse, but not really looking at her. "A minor sprain, that's all. I'm sure it'll go away soon. I shouldn't have come."

Zelda wanted to berate him for his pride, even if she was starting to understand him more. She could not blame him, and yet she did not like the unfairness of it all. It did not have to be this way. "Please," said Zelda hopefully, looking up at the nurse. "This is a place of healing. You have taken care of so many in their time of need. I need your compassion right now, and your courage. Please help him."

The manner that Zelda spoke, with such sweetness, might have moved just about anyone to do what she wished. Even Volga's indifferent facade was losing its resolve. The nurse stared between Zelda, Volga, and the mess she had made on the ground, trying to decide what to do.

"Fine," she said in defeat, but she did not look any more keen to approach him than she did before. "Go, take a seat on any bed, preferably further away from this mess so you both don't step on anything sharp."

With a relieved Zelda, Volga headed toward one of the beds further away, taking a seat at the edge of the bed in silent astonishment. The nurse followed, wishing to get this over with as soon as possible. She kept a reasonable distance between herself and Volga, still not daring to get any closer. "What did you sprain?" she asked, dreading his answer.

He did not have to answer however, because when he glanced down at his claw, the nurse instantly knew. Zelda could see her face paling. "You can do it," the blonde urged, not wanting the nurse's courage to falter now.

"I don't think I can," said the nurse, looking as if she were about to pass out. Her dark eyes settled on Volga's face. "W-what are you?"

Volga averted his eyes away, and Zelda shook her head at the nurse, the woman she had trusted to take care of everyone for so many years. Deep in, she knew that the nurse had some sort of justification to be scared. It was not in Zelda's place to try and force her to do something that made her uncomfortable. Still, the disappointment was there.

Zelda frowned. "Can you please, at the very least, retrieve the necessary materials that would be needed to treat a sprained wrist?"

Turning around sharply, the nurse complied at once. When she returned, she set an ice pack, balm, and a thick, white wrapping on the nightstand next to the bed. "P-princess, I apologize for my reactions," she said nervously. "But please understand this is very difficult, what you are asking of me. I don't know if I can touch that… thing."

Zelda sighed, reaching out for the ointment on the nightstand. "I will treat him then," she told the nurse. "I only need you to tell me what to do."

"You… what?"

There it was, that vibrance again, so vivid, that Volga thought he was going delirious. He hadn't eaten all day after all, so perhaps that might have contributed something.

The nurse did not seem to register what Zelda had said, but when she did, she waited for a few seconds, likely waiting for someone to elaborate on some kind of misunderstanding. Volga wasn't any less awestruck than she was. If anything, he felt that familiar stir within him in which the princess was becoming a part of. He was both confounded and euphoric at this feeling. And her words…

You're going to be taken care of. Because it's about time someone does…

It had not been more than twenty minutes ago when he and Zelda had been in that room, when she embraced him and accepted him for who he was. This acceptance hadn't quite sunk in yet. Years of living among humans were not going to go away anytime soon. It was not a matter of trust either, for he never had the experience of building trust with anyone to start with. Not until he met her.

Then the nurse finally spoke up. "Ah y-yes, Your Highness, as you command. First, you need to identify where the pain on his wrist is coming from to make sure it is indeed his wrist, and not something more serious, such as fracturing a bone. Um, if you could find his wrist, that is." She added the last sentence so quietly, that she hoped that Zelda would not hear. Volga did.

Grabbing a large pillow, Zelda propped it underneath Volga's arm, elevating his claw. Volga wanted to look anywhere else but that claw, yet he could not bring himself to look away while Zelda treated him.

When her skin met his claw, Volga, out of instinct, thought she would grimace, perhaps flinch at the contact. He could only imagine how strange it must be for her to feel mere… scales, dry and coarse, rather than his actual skin. Yet her face did not show any sign of disgust, her two brows arched in concentration of what she was doing.

Volga watched as she outlined along the area that would have been his palm if his claw was back to a human hand. She paused at the conjunction between his arm and claw, looking into his eyes for confirmation. But she saw all that she needed to see.

"It's here, isn't it?" she asked softly.

He nodded in a somewhat hazy state, and she opened the bottle of balm. Zelda continued to follow the nurse's instructions, dabbing a piece of cotton into the balm, before returning to Volga's claw. She gingerly applied the moistened cotton onto his would-be wrist. Volga shut his eyes, but it was not out of discomfort.

"It's almost over," she consoled him.

The nurse, in spite of her squeamish attitude, could not help but be impressed. "My, my, you certainly have an aptitude for this, Princess. You could have potential to be an amazing Healer."

Zelda took the bulky, white wrap, and carefully began to weave it around Volga's injury. "I would like to learn more of this field," she said thoughtfully. "I plan to learn healing through magic, but after today, I feel that I should learn in this method, as well. If it's not much trouble, I would like to visit here more often, and observe your work."

"No, not at all," the nurse replied, and though she had been jittery, there was a certain curiosity in her expression as she observed them. "Well," she said, clearing her throat. "Now that you are done treating him, all that remains is to keep this ice pack on top of his wrap as much as possible, to reduce the swelling. More importantly though is for him to do as little exertion as he can with that arm. He does not have to be in bed all day, but resting as much as he can would certainly help progress his recovery. Please let me know if you require any further assistance from me."

With that, the nurse hurried off to the other side of the room, bending over to pick up the tray she had dropped earlier.

"Did I really do a good job with your injury, or was she just saying that?" Zelda said skeptically, once the nurse was far out of ear-shot, and the curtains had somewhat obscured them from view.

In truth, she had been a little clumsy. She had applied too much balm, and had done the wrapping poorly, resulting in the ends sticking out awkwardly. But none of this mattered. He was so overcome with gratitude for the princess, that the words to compliment and thank her were caught up in his throat. If he was to speak, he was not sure if words would be adequate enough to let her know how much everything she had done meant to him.

She must have seen this in his eyes. Taking the balm from the nightstand, Zelda moved toward his side, to where she was facing his back. Under normal circumstances, Volga wouldn't have let anyone near his wings, not that they would likely have been near anyway. Even if his body wanted to shrink away from the world, he could not bring himself to pull away from this shaky trust that he had created with her. Perhaps she had chosen this moment now, with the nurse away, since she knew these were particularly difficult wounds for him, lest of which he would not have wanted to show anyone.

"I may not be able to heal your past wounds," she whispered, coating the balm with her fingers, and applying it to the expanse of his back. "But I can at least try to fix the current ones." And Volga was pleasantly surprised to find that the balm was rather soothing on the area surrounding his wings. Her touches were soothing. Was this magic? If she could not heal his old wounds, why then, did he feel as if she was doing it? Why did his wings feel so at ease under her touch, when they normally dreaded contact with anything?

And then, something unexpected happened. He felt something warm and soft brush against the skin on his back, between the gap of his wings. It was a foreign and wondrous sensation, and he shuddered in newfound delight. Though his curiosity was piqued, he could not bring himself to move, to interrupt whatever it was that Zelda had done to him.

"Father said that whenever he was injured or hurt," said Zelda fondly. "Mother would kiss him at the spot he was injured. And he would be okay again. Sometimes it would take some time, but it always worked. Maybe someday… maybe someday you'll be okay again, Volga. I hope that your wings grow strong enough, and take you anywhere you wish to be."

In their childish innocence, neither one of them saw these things as something suggestive, or hormonally conflicting. While it was true that they had a… unique sort of friendship, Volga really couldn't have known anything different, and he did not wish to. He was aware that having multiple friends was something considered normal, and perhaps he could welcome that idea in time. But this, whatever it was that he had with her, was not something he wanted to replace, or replicate with anyone else.

A rumbling sound came from his stomach, and they both laughed. "Let's go fetch something for the hungry dragon," she teased, and Volga did not mind the reference. He felt… happiness resonating within him, a tranquility that he associated with by just being in her presence.

Where I wish to be…

Deep in a forest far from society, there was a castle. The exterior did not boast the grandeur that Hyrule Castle had. One could almost mistake it for a large, abandoned manor. Bushes surrounded the place, but they were covered in thorns, like a barrier meant to keep people away. Three towers, though barely visible, were located in the back of the castle, one on each corner, and the last one at the center, being the tallest tower.

It was said that no one ever entered the castle before, except the only resident who dwelled there. She was known as the Guardian of Time. No one truly knew who she was, or what she was. Very few people even knew of her existence, the Royal Family being among the few that did. Yet even the Royal Family did not know where she had come from, other than that she was tasked with watching over the balance of the Triforce, the most powerful force in existence.

The interior of the castle could be mistaken for an art gallery, consisting of countless portraits covering just about every space on the walls. Statues and figurines were displayed like what one would see in a craft shop. Moreover, was the fact that the very representation of every artwork was of a young man, clad in a green tunic, and a matching hat.

Most of the artwork featured him as a blond with blue eyes, but there were a few where his hair had been darker. He was sometimes seen as carrying a sword and shield, other times a mythical weapon that no one would ever know from the missing information of stories people had read about. How little the stories actually knew of him. He may as well have been slapped on every story containing a two dimensional hero that always did what was good and right for everyone, never questioning his destiny.

The brush that had been lingering over an incomplete painting snapped, and the Guardian of Time made a frustrated sigh. This had been the third brush she had broken this week. It was not like her to be so clumsy or violent with the objects she interacted with.

As if that hadn't been enough, her visions had been growing more clouded as of late. Her visions of the past were unhindered, still displaying everything she had always known it to be, whenever she wanted to see them. The future however, was too dark to see properly, as if someone had ripped pages from a book, and she was no longer able to read the full story. There had been no new visions of the future since she had last presented the ones of the dragon-human baby to the King of Hyrule.

She told herself that new visions of the future would come when they were meant to. Instead she revisited her vision of the baby, well… who was now a boy, rather. Volga, was it? Yes, this was his name. She looked for an update, anything to give her an indication of what would happen next.

But something had changed.

The vision was still there, but it was blurred. It was like some unknown force was tempering with her vision, challenging her powers. The only image that was clear to her was Princess Zelda's jubilant face, one that the sorceress had grown to become more and more irritated with each time she saw her, no matter what era she had come from.

For Princess Zelda, in all her divinity, was always seen alongside the Spirit of the Hero, Link, across the ages. And in every age, she always called for Link to help, always a damsel in distress and incapable of fending for herself. A pathetic excuse to be called a ruler. And Link always listened, always did what he was told. She did not deserve his protection, as he did not deserve to risk his life for her sake.

How much the sorceress wished, to be able to pull Link away from all the pressure on him, for at least one era, to have him at her side and let him do whatever he pleased.

A deep whisper rang in the air, but the words were too distant to comprehend. When they faded, the witch blinked at her incomplete painting. She had been hearing that voice frequently lately, during times she was feeling some intense emotion, which she used to keep in check.

And then was the final matter of her dreams. She thought at first, she was having another vision, but she knew that even if it was, it was only wishful thinking. Her dreams were of her… and Link, walking side by side in a forest. Link appeared happy, and carefree. And in her hands was the Triforce, the complete relic shining before them.

That had been the extent of her dreams, but she had them nearly every other night. What did this all mean? The lack of future visions, the blurred and incomprehensible ones of the ones she had currently, the dark whispers from time to time, the dreams - were they all a coincidence?

"Are the poes gone?"

"Yes."

"Every single one of them?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Impa replied, trying to reassure the king. He seemed more anxious than usual today. "They began to disperse ever since the Goron Captain left with the ring. We've done multiple, thorough searches throughout the entire castle. There is not a single poe left in our vicinity."

The king looked a bit more relieved at this, but the stress was still lined across his face. "I'm worried, Impa," he said tiredly. "This whole mystery with the ring, what if it's a sign? What if it's some foresight of the upcoming war? I cannot help but wonder if burying the ring will suffice, or if I've somehow put the Gorons in danger of the poes."

"The Gorons seem far more resilient to the poes than humans are," Impa reminded him. "It was a logical choice to entrust the ring to the Goron Captain. Furthermore, we never really had conflicts with the Gorons regarding power, so they have little interest in this ring, as far as we know. They'd likely prefer to eat the gem on it, rather than actually use it." She offered him an amused smile.

He barely smiled back, running a hand through his thin hair. "And what of the boy?" he asked suddenly. "How has his training been coming along? I trust that he has not caused any trouble yet?"

"Ah," said Impa thoughtfully. "I discovered that he was able to transform his arm into a dragon claw. I've also heard reports witnessing he had wings, though it appears he's gotten that back to normal now. It is very likely he has a full form that he changes to, or perhaps, his full form might have been his actual form all along. We really do not know much about him, I'm afraid."

The king nodded in acknowledgement, and Impa continued. "As for him causing trouble, well, he hasn't exactly. But…" she paused, trying to decide on how to explain this to the king without sending him into a frenzy of panic. "Several of us at the castle, including myself, cannot help but notice his… ah, closeness to your daughter."

"Really now?" the king murmured, grey eyes growing more alert. "How so?"

"Yes," said Impa carefully. "Well, they seem to spend a lot of time together. There is no doubt in my mind that Zelda has attempted to befriend him, given her nature. And it seems he accepted. I find this curious, being that the Guardian of Time never told us that they might one day become friends."

A silence followed forth, and Impa could tell the king was already lost in his endless thoughts of possibilities. "Yes, that is curious," he said in agreement. "It's possible she simply had not foreseen this aspect of his life. Strange, I somehow feel more alleviated in hearing this. Perhaps one day when the time comes, he will be easier to… persuade, regarding our decisions for this pending war. And the inevitable revelation to his curse."

"If I might be so bold, Your Majesty," said Impa uncomfortably. "I don't think we should reveal to him of his curse anytime soon, at least, not while he's still a child. It's too much. But I think maintaining a civil relation with him could very well work out in our favor one day, as you have brought up. I will remain… one step forward, and one step back. Mistrustful and alert, but welcoming enough so that I can keep an eye on him and report back anything that could be related to the initiation of his curse."

The king rubbed his temples. "Why am I not surprised that my little girl would…" he trailed off, and sighed. None of this felt like it was happening in the way it was supposed to be. This uncertainty of the unknown left him insecure, and restless.

"Impa, when the boy leaves to go live with the Lizalfos," the king began. "You need to start training Zelda more in combat. And I mean training on a regular basis. I'm afraid her free time will not be as flexible as to what she's been used to. By this, I also mean increasing our security outside our walls. None of this sneaking out business. She's toyed with her freedom enough, but I can't risk putting her in danger whenever she leaves these walls."

This speech was nothing different than usual, coming from the king, and Impa crossed her arms in her chest. "It shall be done," she told him. "But I would advise against how much you want to restrict her. You know her well, and you know she is stubborn."

Of course the king knew this. He did not expect Zelda to react any differently, did not expect her to understand the reasons he did what he did, not anytime soon. She would protest… she might even grow to hate him. Yet unlike most of the rulers in the past, they would be prepared for this war. Zelda would not be someone always waiting to be rescued. She would be protected of course, but she would have the skill to fend off on her own.

For Zelda would be more than just a princess. She would be a warrior.