Chapter 21: Tower
Volga felt less prepared than he had been prior to the conversation. His mind was preoccupied from all the information he was trying to process, as he followed the king, Impa, and the guests through the torchlit dark of the tower.
"Mommy, I can't wait to see daddy again!" A little girl said excitedly. "That's where we're going, right? We're getting him out of here?"
"Yes, sweety," said the mother, supporting her in her arms. "But we need to see his boss first. You're going to stay close to your brother, alright? While the grown ups talk."
Her brother appeared to be a few years older than the girl, but still young. "I'll watch her, mom," he promised. "I know sis can't walk too well from her leg injury years back."
There were other voices talking too. A worried wife for her spouse. Children and elders searching for their relatives. Friends having not heard from each other in a long time. And more, all here for these workers who had lives and families to care for.
"Volga, I hope you can consider this," the king reassured him. "If they say your parents were compassionate, then there must be something more to what had happened. A determined father would have walked, ridden, or flown throughout all the kingdoms to find a son he couldn't be more proud of."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," said Volga quietly. "I should try to be more open-minded rather than thinking the worst. But sometimes I don't know if I'm really being that unreasonable here, especially when information is given in pieces for me to decipher."
"I think you should too," the king agreed. "Your anger is understandable though. I can see you are someone who values family dearly. What do you say we seek this silver creature when it makes its occurrence in a few months, and find those missing pieces? Perhaps that will also give you more time to mentally prepare for what we could uncover, and in doing so, it could give you more closure. I'm sure Zelda would want to support you too, if you would be willing to have us."
She would, he thought appreciatively, remembering she had been the one to encourage him to find out more of his background to start with. And though what he had discovered so far didn't exactly lead to a wishful family reunion, he at least found some hopeful information that he looked forward to sharing with her later.
It was… different, often Volga was the one having to say 'you're welcome' to the people of Hyrule and the Royal Family for the assistance he offered. But he was finding himself thanking almost as much lately. And it usually revolved around Zelda, her father, Martel, and Eveline - occasionally others, but these had become increasingly prominent in his life.
This sense of giving kindness and having it returned was something fulfilling beyond anything he had practiced building his strength and pride for in Eldin. Instead, he could expand his endeavors in more meaningful ways.
The museum owner stopped in his tracks. He had taken everyone down the staircase, and was now opening a door to the back of the tower, leading them outside. This was where the Dragon Knight thought he had heard noise from earlier, and it was soon becoming apparent why.
"What is that?!" One of the guests said hysterically. "On the ground!"
Aside from there being more workers out in the distance, indefinitely hammering at their gloom-ridden keeps - there was a sudden fluctuation from below. A putrid rot assaulted the air, growing ever so prevalent, as a decomposed hand lurched out of the ground, sand clinging and sliding down its extending arm.
Within seconds, a manifold of frantic hands sprung from the valley, clambering out desperately like they were tearing through the bowels of the underworld. More and more of their disfigured bodies emerged, followed by blood-curling wails that echoed, and resounded, with the screams of the horrified crowd.
Zelda's father stepped in front of the people, drawing out his sword. Volga and Impa stood back to back, guarding the king and the rest - facing the Redeads on either side of them. With spear and naginata, they jabbed and spun their weapons, unleashing the flames they had both been enchanted with.
Five of the Redeads burned and staggered into an effective, scorching pile. Two more had been beheaded by the king. One had dashed forth abruptly - and considering most of the Redeads were lumbering slowly, this one nearly made it past them to try and feed upon one of the women. It managed to grab her by the hair, and at her cry, the king yanked the creature off her, kneed it into the ground, and drove his blade downward into its neck.
But even with the increasing numbers Volga and Impa had been melting, there seemed to be no end to them. The myriad of Redeads continued to rise, forming an arc around the warriors that gated off any effort to escape that wouldn't involve trampling past them, or fleeing above.
"The tower!" the king called out to the petrified people. "Hide in the tower as we hold them off!"
"Your Majesty," the museum owner said, unwilling to face the monsters ahead of them. "I believe this door to go back inside the tower is jammed. Which means she's probably making her way around." He tugged at the door handle to prove his point.
"We'll smash it open!" Zelda's father advanced toward the door, but before he was able to start pounding on the frame, a heavyweight axe dented through the door. From inside. The axe hacked again, as if chopping wood. He jumped back in alarm.
Two swords pierced through this time, still coming from inside the door, but at the sides. The king held out an arm for anyone who was nearby to step away, while Impa and Volga continued fighting the Redeads. Though they too, had their awareness diverted by the disturbance coming from the tower door.
"I don't know what's going on over there, but keep burning the horde down!" Impa hollered to Volga, as he leaned forward to release a cone of flames from his mouth, cleaning out another section at her flank.
Meanwhile the tower door, with now three weapons embedded through, was finally starting to cave.
"Oh, dear," the museum owner warned. "That would be the overseer my commander had sent. Said to have the bones of a giant, she was once a prized relic in my museum. Then she was… readjusted to suit the function of something they refer to as a Stalmaster, a captain of the dead. But we call her the Tower."
The fourth and final weapon of this necrotic creature plunged through the door in one last sweep, demonstrated by a whopping club layered in spikes. Shreds of the door collapsed upon the armored Stalmaster, but they hardly damaged its sturdy body.
With hefty, clunking footsteps, the Tower stepped outside. The manner in how it shifted its head from left to right suggested a semblance of intelligence, with the way it was surveying its victims and evaluating the situation. Red eyes glinted from underneath its brass helmet, and an ugly leer matched with its distorted jaw.
The king could see the Stalmaster was focusing on the workers from afar - so this was the skeletal monster that was "keeping them in line". Presumably controlled by another, but an overseer just the same, a supervisor of slaves. Today however, would be the end to this madness.
Zelda's father raised his sword. The Tower set upon him, and when he slashed his blade, it immediately positioned its weapons to block, in a square formation. Each direction the king struck would be parried, and he had to pull back for a moment, to reassess this opponent. But it gave him no room to breathe, and lunged at him, aggressively swinging its arms with such power, that it clobbered a chunk of a spire column behind the king, sending fragments rocketing onto his shoulders.
His aged reflexes were not going to do him any favors here. Not for long, at any rate. He grasped his protesting shoulder, as his other hand hung onto his blade.
Volga had taken notice, and Impa, seeing him pause, turned to where he was looking at.
"What in the -" she said, appalled. "Alright, I'm going to set my naginata's wall of fire to slow down the Redeads, you go help -"
But the Dragon Knight was already on the move. Not only had he produced his own area of flames with her - dragon fire combined with her weapon's element - he joined with the humans and the king to battle the Stalmaster. Still, this was no place for these people and they had to get them to safety, especially since there were children among them.
"Volga, get them out of here!" the king instructed. "The tower door is open now, we can hide them inside and guard the door while facing the Stalmaster!"
He nodded and immediately led the group to the open doorway. They weren't much better there, but at least it would stall out time until the monsters would be able to make their way in. And the Redeads would still have to get past Impa, Volga, and the king to get inside.
Impa nonetheless, had people with her too. The Redeads were barricading around her, preventing any more humans from being able to slip past to join the tower with the others. This would be as many as they would be able to hide in there for now - the rest were currently under her protection.
The Sheikah fought formidably despite the pressure, sending numerous, magical blades of fire into the air, then proceeding to have them pierce down when they fell, diminishing an area of Redeads. Her wall of flames still lingered on another cluster of corpses, giving her more time to multi-task, though not as effectively as she had been awhile ago.
Volga concentrated his attention back to the Stalmaster. He swung the dragon pike from side to side, then diagonally, and thrust forward - the weapon vibrating from meeting metal and bone. But unlike the king, he had been quicker to strike before the Tower had time to deflect. When he saw its eyes momentarily flash, he knew he had gauged a point of weakness, though by no means was this over. Volga pulled the pike out, and with it, one of the sword arms dangled off with its weapon.
"It's kind of like the Manhandla all over again, isn't it?" The king grunted. "Various deadly parts to lop off, but this time arms instead of heads. I tried to go for its head, but those weapons cover every angle. Guess we'll have to finish this like old times back with Zelda, eh? Volga, you're much faster than me - I'll attack to force it to block, and you lance through if you see it leave a gap. It won't counter the both of us as easily."
The Tower pressed forth, and the Dragon Knight worked with the king on his plan. On the first attempt, the blindspot gap did not leave itself presentable to them.
They did not get another chance so soon, for the Tower walloped at them with three weapons, like three warriors against two; the remaining sword at Volga, and the axe at the king. The club too aimed for the old man, to pulverize his stomach like it had done to the door. But the Dragon Knight intercepted it with his hand, which had briefly shifted into a claw to knock the weapon away. And it worked, except his clawed hand had been ruptured from the clash.
Pain flared to the bone within seconds after the shock of the impact, but in light of Martel's craftsmanship of his armor, he hadn't lost his hand or claw limbs. The slam of the club into the gauntlet dug into his skin, which was now throbbing and bleeding through. It wasn't the first time he had injured that, but he had no time to worry about it now.
"We'll… try your strategy again," the Dragon Knight gingerly switched his spear hand to the other. "I know where to strike it this time."
Zelda's father saw the blood and gave a guilty, morose nod. He sliced furiously at the Stalmaster, and the Tower shielded, though this time its weapons shook in its clutch. It latched the axe at them, and the king purposefully targeted its hand, disarming the weapon to drop on the ground. Just as the Stalmaster picked it up, Volga seized the opening. He lanced into the boned shoulder blade - it was almost like one of his jousting sessions of trying to puncture a shield, although Impa and the soldiers hadn't been trying to kill him. The axe was flung into the stone wall with a loud clang and clatter, its arm attached with it.
"That's it!" The king said hoarsely. "Now we only have to deal with two arms. Impa! How are you holding up over there?!"
Impa wiped a bead of sweat off her brow, her naginata still keeping the Redeads busy. "One of the damn things might have scratched my leg, but I'm fine! I still have a few people with me, and they should be able to make their way to you two now. Go on." She urged them. "Into the tower!"
The remaining humans hurried along, as Volga and the king lured the Stalmaster away from the tower entrance so that they could reach there securely.
But the Tower wasn't fixated on them anymore, and instead, at one of the four colossal spires - the one it had taken a chunk off from earlier when it was fighting the king. To Volga and the king's astonishment, the Stalmaster threw its remaining two weapons on the ground. Was it surrendering? No, it couldn't be.
"What is it doing?!"
That same leer the king had seen from its eyes earlier returned.
"Those two remaining arms of hers were her original arms," said the museum owner from the outside doorway, away from the people who had rushed past to get inside. "Back when she had the strength to hold back armed forces in this tower."
The Stalmaster clasped its hands together, comparable to cracking boned knuckles. It reached for the towering spire, and grabbed it, plucking it out of the ground like it was a plant from soil. Even with the museum owner's praises of its might, the Tower still wavered to maintain the excessive weight, partially weakened from battle. Nevertheless, it was able to bring the structure above its head, propped and ready. To aim.
And they soon registered what it was going to do. The sheer size of the spire was tall and wide enough to crush most of them from where they stood. It would likely squash the Redeads too, and as convenient as that was, the Tower seemed not to care what would be sacrificed.
"Run!" Impa yelled, sprinting away to head back into the tower, which was the only fortification that might be able to withstand the collision, if it was to be struck. Men, women, and children scrambled with her inside, but not everyone was able to move as swiftly.
"Come on sis!" The boy Volga heard from earlier, was trying to usher his little sister to hurry, his hand in hers. But the Dragon Knight had remembered, regardless of how distracted he had been at the time, that the girl's leg was handicapped.
He readied himself; he would have to bring out his wings, and swoop both the children away- but the spire was already inclining toward them. To his horror, he saw that the king was there, trying to help them escape. "Let's go, into the tower, take my hand!" The old man dragged them away, yet Volga realized. Zelda's father would not make it inside in time with the children. Nor would Volga, to fly them away. He would be crushed with them.
"Your Majesty!" Impa's eyes were wide from where she hid at the doorway with the rest of the people.
The shadow of the pillar was towering over the king of Hyrule's fate.
"Next time, I'm hoping we could fish at Lake Hylia…"
"… grandchildren I hope to live long enough to spend time with…"
"… we truly appreciate you…"
" I can see you are someone who values family dearly."
"I'm sure Zelda would want to support you too, if you would be willing to have us."
Suddenly, the spire froze shakily in place. Glaring through a stinging blur, Volga held out both arms up high, slowing down the structure's descent. Holding back the entirety of the pillar from falling down upon them.
"He's strong!" The siblings gasped.
But the mass of the structure still challenged him, pushing him backward, as his boots dragged behind in the sand. Volga wasn't going to give in, even when the nerves from his wounded hand shot to his arm, threatening to let go. "Your Majesty, go! Take the kids with you!"
"You've given me a pebble to work with this time, not a boulder, Master," Volga retorted.
King Dodongo gave a gurgled snort. "Perhaps I should assign you five stone spires next time, to nurture that pride of yours."
Volga growled, lifting the tower's spire away from the king and the children. Thankfully they had dashed away to join the others, though when they reached the doorway, their heads turned to glance back again. Now that he had room, he was able to move around with the structure more freely without worrying about hitting anyone. Holding the spire above his head, he faced the Tower.
And launched it back at the Stalmaster, in full force.
Bones and armor crackled apart from the cloud of sand that had briefly erupted from the crash. Whatever pieces had not toppled away into oblivion had been crushed under the weight of the fallen spire. A brass helmet lay on the ground in scraps of metal. The Tower, defeated by a part of the tower. And with it, any Redeads that had been in its way.
There was still one horde further in the distance but aside from them, the spawning had finally stopped. Volga transformed into his full dragon form, and took to the air. Circling above, a flaming trail followed behind him as he picked up speed. With the people being out of harm's way still huddled at the tower door, he used his momentum to dive into the ground. A massive fiery blast obliterated the remaining foes.
Good riddance.
He turned back to the door, and saw people staring at him. Not in terror, but awe. Used to both by now, he transformed back into a man, and ambled back inside with them.
There, he found the foreign royals entering the tower from the main entrance, having just arrived. "We finally made it… '' one of them panted. Multiple hands held torches and lanterns that lit up the now crowded museum.
"What the blazes happened here?" Torkil questioned, peering around in disbelief. "Took forever to haul the rest of the weapons. Seems like we're late to the party."
"Very," said Impa flatly.
There was a bustle of disorientation in the museum's tower. The exhausted workers that had been freed from the hazy labor of the keeps outside were now reuniting with their families and friends. And though they sought comfort in one another from the aftermath of everything that had transpired, they were all adversely affected. No doubt would there be a conundrum of matters to dissect, but at least the panic was over with, for now.
Several of the foreign royals spectated the commotion, getting a recount on what had happened. Soldiers followed behind, and those who weren't with them were outside, keeping surveillance over the horses, wagons, and weapons they had recently arrived with. Others took seats with their drinks while waiting around for the next course of action.
"Miss Impa, are you going to turn into a Redead now since you were scratched?" One of the children asked fearfully, eyeing her as she self-treated her wound with the medical kit they had brought.
She made a dry laugh, covering up the gash on her leg with a wrap. "Not to worry, those are only horror stories. That's not how Redeads are made."
"How are they made?"
"Don't ask questions like that," the child's mother scolded. "That's not something kids need to know, and not even most adults are completely sure either."
Impa nodded glumly, and handed the medical supplies to Volga. He had taken off his gauntlet, and soaked his injured hand into a basin with water that one of the families had kindly filled for him. He was no healer, but he was able to clean up his own wound and wrap his hand, like Impa had with her leg. Not that this ceased the frequent spasms within tissue and bone that had swollen his hand. It was worse if he curled his fingers or gripped anything.
"I think you fractured that hand," Impa called out. "You're subconsciously switching to your other hand to do things because that one's in pain. That's your main lance hand too, isn't it? I must say, the timing is very unfortunate, but I hope you recover soon. It'll probably take a few weeks." She stood up. "I'll be right back, I'm going to fetch my pouch and bring us pain-relieving herbs and a concoction to make our trip back more tolerable."
"I'm so sorry, Volga," the king said remorsefully. "I'd have my stomach bashed, if it weren't for you. And I'd have a great deal more crushed if you hadn't stopped that spire. It seems my list of debts to repay you is endless."
Volga didn't want to trouble anyone, or make the king feel bad. He was just relieved they had all made it in one piece. "I might need to seek some kind of guild insurance in the future," he joked, earning a sad smile, and lifting a tad of the weight burdening the old man. "Don't worry, I wasn't about to let a father's fishing trip with his daughter be crushed by a tower, may it be building or skeleton. Make good memories with her, and that's more rewarding to me than any debt."
Zelda's father was struck by the sincerity in the Dragon Knight's words and expression. He guarded with his life. Like he would for family.
"The Royal Family and Hyrule are fortunate to have such a devoted knight," one of the elders commented. "He may not be official yet, but he's a damn fine one already."
"That's cause he's a Royal Family knight!" The small girl they had saved earlier, piped up. Her enthusiastic statement snapped Torkil's attention, and she gazed up at the king. "He protects your family and helps the people. We've seen him, you know. With the princess. They go around taking care of the kingdom, like a mother and father taking care of a huge family, Your Majesty!"
Which is more than what most foreign royals would do, the king mused. And it would be highly unlikely that they would influence Zelda to bring out the best in her, like Volga does. Like they do to each other.
Although the bear-slayer wasn't glancing directly at them, he wasn't seated too far away. Even with different people conversing all around in the museum, Volga could tell Torkil was casually attentive in the exchange between the young girl and the king. The human's lip was curled in disdain, a prominent vein protruded from the side of his forehead, and his knuckles paled from how hard he clenched the handle of his mug.
He could hear one of Torkil's soldiers point out that he was spilling his drink. The bear-slayer barked at him to clean it up, and the soldier took a rag and uncomfortably wiped the table.
"Like the water shortage and the hungry villagers," the girl's brother added. "They also brought medicine to the sick when it would have taken much longer to arrive by carriage or horse - and the princess treated wounds too. She gave us thick clothing to better prepare us for the upcoming winter. Some of the clothes she had purchased, but I heard a few were from her hunts!"
Hunts, the king recalled a recent interaction with his daughter. That might explain why she was interested in joining our hunting party the other afternoon, though she was undoubtedly very intent on Impa not knowing about it. Perhaps to reduce the monitoring on her sometimes. And you know what? That's fair, Zelda has earned her freedom. Even I'm not keen on telling Impa everything on my mind, as much as I trust her.
"Now our king and general came to help us too, and brought my husband back to me. And so much more," the mother of the two children hugged her family tight. "When that… that tower structure fell, I feared I would lose them if it weren't for your actions. Thank you Your Majesty and Dragon Knight," she said tearfully.
Regardless of what heritage mysteries remained to be solved, or those who were gone in their own lines - Volga and Zelda's father were glad to see more families rejoicing.
A different group of people approached them this time, with kids darting forth. "We want to show you something, if that's alright Mister Dragon Knight," one of the little boys among the siblings craned his neck to look up, dwarfing Volga's height.
Crouching down on one knee to be more at level with him, Volga gave a welcoming courtesy. "It's alright. What would you like to show me?"
The boy unfolded his hands from an object he had been cupping. On his palm, was a figurine of a miniature dragon, shaped with reddish clay. Its eye sockets were embedded with chips of peridot from a green rupee. On the dragon's back was a red string threaded together.
"Me and my siblings made it," he said proudly. "I brought it here today because when we came to find our relatives, I had hope that with this, we'd be able to bring them home - and now we can! Because that's how we feel when we see you and the princess, we get hopeful. Seeing you fly in the sky makes us feel safe. Like we're being protected."
Torkil made an aggressive snort among the chatter of the other people with each other, but Volga paid him no mind.
"We're going to hang this outside our door when we get home," said the boy. "We live on a farm close to castle town. That way we can always feel safe, even when you, the princess, and the king are busy helping others."
"That's… a meaningful thing to hear," said the Dragon Knight warmly.
"I know not everyone sees dragons in a good way," said one of the other siblings. "But not every person is good either. And I think people who don't give you a chance are missing out. Look at what you can do."
Maybe I really can co-exist in peace with the humans, like the dragonkind did - or whatever the ancient name for us was. They're not all so bad, and it's more gratifying to help than remain spiteful and alone in some remote location…
When they had bid goodbye to them, the king spoke with praise. "Hyrule admires you, Volga."
It seemed the bear-slayer had enough. He stood up abruptly from his chair, and made a gesture to get Impa's attention, who was on her way back with her pouch.
"While this has been a most wholesome reunion," he could hear the mordancy in his tone to her. "We don't have all the time in the world for the Dragon Knight fans' parade. It's been a long and arduous journey to get here. We've toiled far to bring these weapons, and not for us to be held up in citizen matters. You three rushed up ahead of us."
The king headed toward them, catching up on the last bit of their conversation.
"Yes, your soldiers and others did contribute to dragging these weapons a long way," Impa assented, making sure they were the ones properly credited. "I'm surprised you hadn't arrived here sooner considering you weren't carrying anything, and made it a point to demonstrate to us how agile your mount and moves were."
Torkil quickly cleared his throat. "Well… I had to keep an eye on the weapons and everything. Wouldn't want an accident to break out if they weren't under my supervision."
"Actually some of us did arrive a little earlier," one of the jousting participants confessed. "We were creeped out by this area though, so we treaded carefully for a while."
The king frowned. "Then it's a good thing we arrived when we did. My people needed us."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Torkil said dismissively. "Take the time you need to finalize here and let me know what you want us to do with the weapons." He walked off to the keg on the counter to refill his mug.
With more of the families and friends leaving to go home with the rescued workers, activity was less hectic surrounding them, which facilitated on what remained to be addressed. Of course, this didn't mean they would get direct answers. The workers themselves for instance, were too numbly rattled to elaborate on their experiences, even to those who cared for them. Figuring they needed time to recover themselves, the king had persuaded them to share their stories when they were willing to, by letter or visit to the throne room. This would also give the means of checking up on the workers to see how they were progressively faring after all of this.
The museum owner on the other hand, was not one Impa and the king had let go of so considerately. Hylian guards stood at either side of him like they were escorting a prisoner. But he had not given any indication of wanting to run off, and was quite compliant to any order that was given to him. It was almost as if he would rather be under the king's mercy, than whatever his commander might have done. Yet this did not make the interrogation yield as many straightforward answers as they would have preferred.
"You better speak truthfully," Impa hissed. "Everything about you and what happened here has done nothing to defend your cause. What is your cause? Why are you here in the first place?"
"As I have said," the man said in a small voice. "I travel with my grandson, and collect historical artifacts for my museum." The way he said 'grandson' sounded pained, and perhaps the first raw emotion they had witnessed of him thus far. His wrinkled fingers tightened on the glass pendant around his neck.
The king paced about, and came to a stop. "Historical artifacts, like that Stalmaster you gave us a synopsis on? You knew about it, and it didn't attack you, which makes it come across like you brought that creature here on purpose, along with the Redeads. Is that talisman an artifact too? Could it be a means to control them - or maybe even the workers? Like that trance they were in."
"The Redeads wander in battle-worn caves or lands, such as this valley," the museum owner said soberly. "I reckon all the people here today led their interest to a flesh feast. As for the Stalmaster and the trance, they are my commander's doing. It's probable my commander perceived a threat here, and sent out the Tower to check, but I had no influence over it fighting all of you. And this talisman… if there is any connection of controlling anything to this accursed thing, I swear to you, I do not know." He glowered down at his pendant with resentment. "If I could yank this off my neck or destroy it, I would. It's not something I want to carry with me, believe me."
"Then why not take it off?"
"It's. Magically shackled to me."
"Prince Zeran," said the king suddenly. "If you could step over here for a minute please."
The dark-haired man acknowledged his request, and made his way over with a handful of his mages. Most of them were wielding staves, including Zeran, though his looked more like a sea trident. Light armor of refined blue quality clad their bodies, matching the background of their emblems, which consisted of a black octopus with cyan rings around the creatures' bodies that almost seemed as if they were glowing with ether. Men and women who weren't fully armored wore them over robes, taking more after battle mages than the standard soldier suit.
"I apologize for the delay," said Zeran, casting away the stream of water circling his arm. "Right before entering here, I had to kill two of those walking dead corpses along the sides of the tower. No fret though, I haven't seen any others since. From the pile of ash and burning carcass outside the back door, it looks like you all got the worst of them."
Ash…
"It's more than what most of our travelers would have bothered to deal with," the king deduced. "Hence one of the reasons we hurried ahead of the rest. We did not wish to involve the matters of our kingdom with the others. Though, I hope it's not too much trouble to ask for your input on any unusual magic you picked up from this place."
Zeran shook his head. "It's fine, if it means us getting out of this place faster. I did sense the magic here - it's everywhere in this area, Your Majesty. If you can picture a smog covering this tower, inside and outside it, and to those fortifications - that's what it's like when I see the energy here. And it's a terribly cruel energy."
The museum owner shuddered, and a thought struck Volga. "It's not sand in that glass pendant of yours," the Dragon Knight confronted him. "That's ash inside - specifically Redead ash, isn't it?"
Color drained from the human's face. "I can't bear to even peek at the Redeads, but y-yes. My commander bound it on me, as a reminder that… time is limited. Like sand in an hourglass. So that the keeps could be built faster."
"I think I've had enough with this commander," the king snarled. "Who is this menace?"
"I c-can't say," his stuttering increased. "If she finds out I did, t-this talisman will -"
The king pulled up to his face, steel eyes cutting through, as if the blade of the Windburst was nicking against the museum owner's throat. "You will tell me," he said in a low voice. "I would not want to have to chop off the talisman with your neck."
Whether he had only meant to threaten or possibly act upon it if he had found sufficient incriminating evidence, Volga took conscientious mind to ease him, while also acknowledging his experience in war. "Your Majesty, wait," he said carefully. "Could Zeran know of a way to remove that talisman, like with magic?"
The royal mage gave the pendant a troubled glimpse. "This magic is similar to what my kingdom would refer to as blood magic, which is banned. To even be able to bind something such as this typically requires an exchange, like a sacrifice. It could also be a tracking device of sorts. To have him hunted."
Volga remembered what his parents' acquaintances had said about them and his mother supposedly being hunted by demons - could this possibly be relevant? Were they being tracked with something like this? In any case, he could only make theories and connections with remnants at a time.
"The one who placed this binding on him would likely have to be the one to remove it," said Zeran. "Or someone with knowledge of this dark magic. As I've stated, me and my mages are prohibited to practice such arts, however, there are obscure magical tribes across kingdoms that congregate to do as they please with the forbidden crafts. They would not be easy to find, and I can't imagine most of them would have justified intentions. Whoever this commander is could be from one of these tribes for all we know. But to bind this talisman to him in this manner, they must have intended for him to suffer."
There was a strained silence at this.
"If what you're saying is true," Volga regarded the museum owner. "Then your reluctance to tell us more or about the whereabouts of your grandson could be that you're trying to protect him - still, I'm sorry that this talisman is burdening you. But if you provide us with the commander's name, it could help us start somewhere, and not only try to prevent more danger, but hopefully relieve you of this."
The museum owner scrunched his eyes shut. "The commander," he said in defeat, to the sympathy he was given, and the words which must have hit closer to home. "It's Commander Cia."
This name did not ring a bell to anyone, and instead, only brought eerie perplexity. They had finally obtained more concrete information, if he wasn't lying. Impa was often the detector of lies, but she had no objections so far, aside from reasonable suspicions.
"Is your grandson with the commander?" the king asked, slightly less relentless than he had been with him earlier.
"He -" the grief was there, but the man was not there for much longer. A black portal surged under his feet, outlined in a sinister magenta. With it, dark chains coiled around his arms and legs like snakes, dragging him inside. "No!" he pleaded. "Don't let them take me back!"
Impa and one of Zeran's mages, both of whom were nearest to the museum owner, attempted to pull him back, but it was too late. "Damn it!" she cursed, as the others hurried over to reach them. "He's gone."
"Be thankful we weren't taken in there with him," said the mage seriously. "The magic emitting from that portal was oppressive."
"Was… was that demon magic?" Volga asked, his stomach clenching, unable to unsee the anguish on that man's face, and how the chains pulled him like they were dragging him into the depths of the underworld. "Or blood magic?"
"Blood magic and demon magic don't sound so different in some ways," the king said icily, his demeanor guarded. "Come, we're all going to one of the keeps the workers had labored over. Impa, take a couple of soldiers with you and make sure everyone has evacuated those vicinities."
"Understood, Your Majesty."
"I have a message for this Commander Cia," The king turned to their party in the museum. "Men, your time to shine is now," he commanded the royals. "Outside we go, and bring forth your weapons. This operation is over. Destroy the keep."
Once the premises had been completely vacated, the soldiers stood in a mass before the keep, like an army preparing for a siege. This was further emphasized with the substantial size of the weapons being rolled over on the wagons, and then finally removed. Setting up and arming them took labor and certified knowledge to be able to handle the equipment. Distance at which the weapons would be most effective was also adjusted in their placement of them.
For example, their ballista was more flexible with how close or far away it could be positioned - whereas other types of catapults might not have as much range, and needed to be nearer to the keep. The king inspected each weapon they had demonstrated, and compared them to the siege tools of Hyrule to see what they had to offer.
Impa and Volga sat on their mounts from afar, watching over everyone. Neither had said anything for some time. The concerns and anxieties in their minds kept their bodies rigid, on edge - and it wasn't until the aching of wounds that came and went that they remembered how tired they were.
"The concoction we took should kick in soon," she told him, noticing him wince when he switched his hand on the reins from Byrne tugging them. "That fight got us pretty good, huh? Could have been worse though, and for the king too. And you know when he threatened the museum owner, and you sort of stopped him?"
"I don't believe the king would have killed him," Volga defended. "But I know he's gone through war, that you both have - and have more experience than me. So I hope I didn't interfere. I'm not sure how much more information we would have gained before that… portal showed up."
Impa shook her head. "Once upon a time, he might have killed him. He's never fully recovered from the war, though he's gotten better since. I think all these uncertainties on whether or not demons or something else could be involved are reawakening those fears. So even if he wouldn't have killed as readily, I still think. He was very relieved when you cautioned his conscience. Not everyone has the courage to stand up to a king, but you did it in a way that was respectful and not in the slightest interfering. And we got the commander's name because of you."
Volga fell silent again, and the two stared at the next batch of weapons the soldiers lugged close to the keep. The structure had already taken damage, and the front door had been destroyed by one of the kingdom's robust rams. Being that the keep was empty, no one had any reason to go inside. The building was overall still intact, so the royals continued the exterior siege.
"Let's go see what they're babbling about to the king," said the Sheikah. "Make sure we don't ride too close to the keep, as it's not only dangerous, but the sounds might startle our mounts."
The Dragon Knight soothed Byrne with his uninjured hand and joined the rest of the crew with Impa.
Not every royal had brought weapons of war, and instead briefed over their kingdoms' resources and services that could potentially aid Hyrule in combat. Most of this information they had already relayed to Zelda and the king, as exchange for their pursuit of the princess's hand. But with the possibilities in the rewards of the jousting tournament being in the near future, this alternative way of trying to obtain them held more plausibility and urgency to Volga, especially with everything that was going on.
"When taking over a keep," said the ruler of the desert kingdom. "A direct siege may not always be the most viable option. Sometimes you need a solid stealth unit to be able to gather information, or spy. You may run into a situation where killing the captain is all you need to do to claim the keep." He made a slicing motion at his own throat. "That's where our assassins could deftly end the job for you. One individual to kill, and forego the many you could have potentially avoided."
"I do agree assassins and stealth spies are very useful," Impa advised Zelda's father. "Most of the standard principles to be a successful one apply to the Sheikah training, but unfortunately we don't have many Sheikah left. Nor many assassins in general in our current forces."
The king nodded and listened, as another royal took on a different run-down. The short man had pointed ears, like some Hylians, but sharper, angular features. His regal attire bore a bizarre tunic wrapped in tree vines. "My forest throne has a communion with nature," he began. "We are wardens, and we can call forth animals and the spirits of the woods to provide assistance. Furthermore our herbs have potent healing capabilities, especially in creating potions to harden the skin like armor. Like the durable bark of a tree."
"Hm," Prince Zeran chimed in curiously. "But how do those restorative herbs compare to the healing of my kingdom's magic, or better yet, of the Great Faeries of Hyrule? Their healing is unmatched. The small faeries alone can revive you from the brink of death."
"Oh there's no question their healing is unmatched," the royal warden concurred. "But the Great Faeries are rare, and there's not many pixies to be bottled in a drawn out war. With these herbs and potions, you would have a more consistent stock. And as I mentioned, the armor of the tree elixirs would give warriors additional protection to their defensive gear."
"Hurgh," Torkil waved a hand. "Armor of a tree? Wood can be hacked down. And I can guarantee you my kingdom has the finest selection of alchemists. We're not capable of doing magic, so we utilize alchemy and science to present similar results, if not better."
Impa scrutinized Torkil, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.
"I suppose I should go ahead and display one of our creations then," Torkil volunteered himself. It was evident that he had been awaiting this, like an eager child showing off their favorite toy.
The tarp covering Torkil's weapon incorporated his kingdom's emblem; a white bear in a black background, with a snake trapped in the bear's fanged mouth. Once the material was pulled off, a titanic trebuchet was revealed. No wonder it had taken so many of his men to carry it - the bulk of it alone seemed to require a great deal of assistance to maneuver.
"This isn't just any trebuchet," Torkil gloated. "It's been thoroughly developed for this latest model. Powerful frame, a dynamic beam on the axle, an unbreakable sling to hold the payload - most of these parts reinforced with metal to sustain burns when we're firing. Which admittedly, does make it heavier, but that's why we have the strength of our men to carry them."
"Well the Dragon Knight held off a whole tower," one of the kids boasted, among the last of the families that were leaving. "And it takes more than twenty soldiers to move that?"
Not everyone had heard the child over the noisy background, but several chuckles spread to those who had. Volga could tell Torkil did though because the vein on his temple returned.
"Little brats shouldn't be in dangerous places," Torkil shooed him off. "Go away."
The boy's mother glared at Torkil, before hurrying off with the rest of the families to depart the valley. A line of carriages and mounts could be seen in the distance of everyone else heading home.
"By Necluda's Sea Pearls, you're going to lash out on kids now?" Zeran raised an eyebrow at him.
Torkil shrugged. "They're nosey and annoying. And they shouldn't be hanging around a deserted site where we're testing out our weapons. Anyway," he called out to his soldiers, as his voice rose. "Bring forth the ammo!"
The bear-slayer raised his hand and directed his unit to carry the projectiles that were to be used. Volga expected large stones or small boulders, but instead the ammo was smooth and round, about the size of a cannon ball. The jet-black spheres contained wispy white trails within that looked like lucent veins. If the soldiers hadn't been careful enough before, this was perhaps on a whole other level. The way they carried the ammo was as if they were trying to trek around a river bank full of hungry, sleeping crocodiles. Impa was getting anxious just watching them.
"Load her up," Torkil instructed. "And fire!"
Though the process took diligence, they could see that the siege masters knew how to engineer the equipment. The exceeding caution in which they did so instantly made sense, for when the beam was released and the projectile was launched, the assault did not merely damage the walls. The entire structure detonated in a cloud of white-grey, like the colors of the veins in those spheres. As the smoke dissipated among an array of coughs, everyone could see. Nothing remained of the keep. Nothing but rubble, most of which had been ground to dust among the sand.
"Ha!" Torkil took a swig of his drink, looking quite pleased with himself. "You see? And this is only a single shot. Sure, you can use carcass, stones, and other flammable ammo too, but this, Your Highness. Think of how efficient this is to be able to blast apart a keep in one go, instead of sitting here firing multiple siege weapons just to be able to start denting a hole on a wall. We could take over whole castles with this if we wanted to."
The indirect threat gained a newfound level of fear and respect for the northwest kingdom's explosive arsenal. The wide-eyed royals murmured among each other, and the king of Hyrule studied both the damage and the trebuchet. "I must say," he confessed. "These minerals are rather impressive. Our Gorons have developed means of explosives, but nowhere near this magnitude of destruction. Though I presume harvesting these materials are as lethal as carrying them around."
Torkil signaled for his soldiers to start packing, and answered the king. "We mine their ores deep in the more treacherous, snowy mountains of my kingdom. They have to be harvested with the risk of being burst into pieces, if one makes so much as a wrong tinker of a pickaxe and set them off. Because of this, we pay specialized miners of this ore exceptionally well."
"I would hope so, being that their lives are at stake," the king mumbled, before pointing at the locked crates. "And you keep the ammo in these vaults?"
The bear-slayer twiddled a key between his fingers. "After refining them, we store them there. The vaults are flame-proof, so if an accident happens, and the ball is locked inside, there'll be no harm done. We use keys to unlock the vaults for when they are ready for use, and only certified individuals, such as myself, can hold these keys. Having the ammo locked gives us another layer of security, and prevents the chance they fall into enemies' hands. So long as they don't manage to obtain our keys, of course."
The king pondered over this information, and Torkil continued. "The compounds within these ores are also infused with a variety of alchemy enhancements. This is to widen or reduce the radius of the explosion, depending on how much area we wish to destroy. We also create mixtures to purify or poison the fumes from the aftermath of the bomb. The one I demonstrated would be ones I would use in my homeland, to minimize pollution. Which is why our lungs aren't still coughing. If I was attacking enemy lands on the other hand, we'd have no qualms spreading the toxic fumes, as if the explosion itself wouldn't be problematic enough for them already."
"Well if we're bombing in Hyrule, we'd probably want the mixtures to minimize pollution then," Impa speculated. "And being able to alter the radius of the explosions might be handy too. We wouldn't want to detonate them at maximum radius if an enemy fortification was near allies or innocents."
"Precisely," the bear-slayer drawled. "With these options, you'd have more control over the impact of the bombs. Mind you, the ammo we'd supply would be limited, for safety purposes. So make those shots count."
Zeran gave the trebuchet a light prod with his trident staff. "This device is certainly fortified. Although with all that metal, a mage specialized in lightning could pose malfunctions to its success. A master of earth magic, as I'm sure our forest warden here that you neglected - surely knows that they cast fissures under your equipment, and sink it below, if the terrain is willing. A water bearer could drown the whole thing entirely into the nearest body of water. I could go on."
"What's your point?" Torkil said irritably. "There's countless scenarios of how things can go wrong. I could say the same for your mages. Take away their staff or other means of using magic - especially when they exhaust their ether, then they are a squish of flesh and bones. Those of them who have equal skill in melee combat as they do magic are more likely to survive. I'm sure those are few between."
Volga was under the impression Prince Zeran could very well be one of those few. The mysterious man did not react as brash as Torkil, but acknowledged his points, just the same. "So you agree then, that no matter how powerful any of our magical or scientific tools are, they all have flaws." He turned to the king of Hyrule. "It's a matter of deciding then, what is most beneficial for your kingdom, while accepting those drawbacks, Your Majesty."
"What would you consider your magic to lean more toward?" The king asked him. "Magic itself is a complex and broad system."
"Indeed," Zeran glanced at his mages behind him. "We would lean more toward a jack-of-all-trades, I would say. We excel in offense, defense, healing - all of which branch off into countless fields of the arcane. You want us to hurl fire bolts the size of meteors, or create a whirlpool by weaving water and wind to send enemies flying? You want us to save time of patching up fatal wounds by mending the skin with our curative ether? Or even," he motioned at the rubble before them with his staff. A blue energy ebbed from the weapon, to the destroyed keep, forming a dome. With his other hand, he summoned a ball of lightning that crackled at his fingertips. Directing the lightning to the dome, they all watched as the bolt bounced right off. "Shields," he reinstated. "Powerful barriers that would withhold your very castle from being sieged as quickly as Lord Torkil's trebuchet made of this keep."
Torkil grumbled. "Alright so, maybe it would take a few more shots of my combustible ores to be able to penetrate through a barrier, but if all you're doing is defending, I would still have the edge. Besides, aren't your barriers more intended for magical defense?"
"That is correct," said Zeran. "And if I may be so bold, Your Majesty," he addressed the king again. "Based on what we've encountered here today and the stories of the Manhandla and the shadow assassins at the castle that I heard about - it's under my logical opinion that magical defense is what Hyrule needs more than anything right now."
With the announcement that they could all finish packing, the party prepared to leave for their trip back to the castle.
"You might think this sounds greedy," said Impa, when she, Volga, and the king had a brief moment of privacy from everyone else. "But I stand firm in that we need resources from all of them. Arguably some more than others, but they all have a use that could greatly benefit Hyrule. If we're to narrow it down between Torkil and Zeran's resources, I would say the bear-slayer wins here."
The king rubbed his chin. "That's surprising, actually. I would think you'd suggest Zeran's magic, or the assassins."
"They are close, but let me explain, Your Majesty," Impa took a deep breath. "The reason I think Torkil's would be of more value is because, not only would we have such a deadly weapon at our disposal, but I think we can get more out of all this. Zeran is still awaiting approval on his tournament reward from you, and he wants the request so badly, that I think he'd be willing to bargain with us, in the chance he did not win the tournament. So what I'm saying is, if we can manage to obtain Torkil's weapon and gain Zeran's cooperation, we could potentially have both of their resources."
Volga realized Zeran must have asked for confidentiality on his tournament request, because he still didn't know what he wanted, and the mage didn't respond to the other royals when they asked.
The Dragon Knight's request would be anonymous from the other royals too, of course - unless he really did win this, and everyone would inevitably find out. But for now, he figured he would let Impa and the king know before he wouldn't be anonymous for long. And because, he wanted them to feel safe. Regardless of how uncertain everything was right now.
"I don't know how much I can help," Volga offered. "But whichever resource you and Zelda deem fit to most benefit Hyrule is yours. That will be my reward of choice for the jousting tournament."
Impa's red eyes grew large, and the king's stare seemed to gleam like rain in a cloudy grey. "You -" the king's voice broke. "But… your hand."
Volga glanced down at his wrapped hand. "I will manage," he said, with a tired, but determined smile. "A few bottles of Impa's concoctions should help hold me over, I hope."
"Great Hylia, I'd give you the whole stack if it was healthy to," Impa's face turned triumphant. "Your Majesty, think of the possibilities this could give us! It only improves my previous point. The perfect scenario would be for Volga to win and we get rewarded Lord Torkil's weapon, and if Zelda marries Prince Zeran -" both Volga and the king flinched. "- Then we'd have all the magic he has to offer; offense, defense, utility - all the mages at our side. And the bombs. Dare I say, our forces could be an even greater threat than they were in the previous war."
The king rubbed his eyes. "While it would be ideal to have both Torkil and Zeran's resources, to say it would play out like that is a long stretch, and arguable as to whether it's the 'perfect scenario'. At this point, I would be thoroughly shocked if Zelda decided to marry Prince Zeran, or any of the royals, to be honest. What is more likely to happen is that we'd be trying to haggle with Zeran instead, as you had mentioned earlier. Like me accepting Zeran's request. Bargaining would net us significantly less resources from him than a marriage arrangement, but it's still better than nothing. Having fifteen mages of his here would be more helpful to us than none."
Impa half-heartedly agreed, still intent on the more advantageous possibility she had presented. "I really think we need to push Zelda more - " and at the king's stressed and stern look," she sighed. "But we can argue about that later. For now, let's leave this wretched place, I can't wait to get out of here."
As Impa, Volga, and the king readied for their trip, they were surprised to come across the strangers they had spoken with in the tower… the acquaintances of Volga's parents. They were found exiting the tower when the three did a quick scan of the museum to make sure they didn't forget anything or anyone behind.
"I figured you two would have been long gone by now," said the king, somewhat stiffly. These individuals did not strike him as particularly caring to the Dragon Knight. Or perhaps they were more neutral.
"We will be," the woman carried along traveling sacks with her companion. "But I thought I should warn you. The marked dragon -"
"Volga," the king corrected. "He has a name."
"Yes. Volga," she said uncertainly. "Forgive me, we are not used to that name. His parents were going to n- never mind. I know you're all in a hurry to go, so we'll try to get to the point."
The man with her supplied. "We sense a force here very much like the demons, but we cannot say for sure. Because of this, we need to travel far and relocate again. If there's any chance it's them, they will hunt us wherever we go. We don't wish to put Hyrule in danger."
Zelda's father could almost hear the hum of his Windburst in his sheathe.
"That sounds like an exhausting way to live," said Volga wearily. "How do you get them to stop tracking you?"
"You don't," the woman said hopelessly. "When they target us, they never stop. At best, you can try to scare them by reversing the hunt back to them. That is, if you're willing to possibly traverse the rifts between the living realm and the demon realm. If you can find the primary predator and kill them, then theoretically, it could cut their connection to you. But the primary predator is very deceptive when it doesn't want to be found."
"You say primary like," Impa trailed off. "Like there's others too."
"There are. It's part of what makes it harder to escape."
When they got quiet, the woman spoke again. "Look, I only wanted to warn you. And Volga," she addressed his name. "If these forces really are demons, or work with them, you'd do best to get used to the idea of possibly needing to travel far away too someday, like we do. You might even find your homeland, which is in ruins, but still, it's your home."
"I may have a homeland," Volga muttered. "And I might even want to take a visit someday to learn more of my history. But Hyrule is my home. And if something happened here, I would want to protect this kingdom, not run away."
The two sighed. "And that," the woman said. "Is what we feared you might say. Dragons are meant to be alone, Volga. Dragonkind and otherwise. Yes, they're capable of living happily and in peace, but the moment demons interfere, all that will shatter. You might be safe now, but once your guard is down, it's over."
"He's not alone," the king objected. "He protects us all the time, and we want to protect him too. If they ever 'hunt' him, as you call it, then you can be damn sure Zelda and I will hunt them right back, even if we have to rip through every veil between the living and demon realm. And we will free him."
"That is… most unexpected, Your Majesty," said the woman, her jaw dropping. "Perhaps there may be hope for him, still. And hope in humanity being able to save the dragonkind. Until then, we should take our leave. May Hylia's dragon deities light your path."
When they were gone, Volga found himself shook. The more he discovered about demons, the more it made his skin crawl. What if his parents, if they were alive, were trapped in one of these rifts between realms, being hunted endlessly? Where was that tormented museum owner sent to? And…
It had meant a lot that the Royal Family would take such a risk for him, however, he would not want to place Zelda and her father's lives in inexplicable danger. On the same token, he would have done the same without hesitation, so he was honored by their decisions too.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," he whispered.
The king studied Volga. "Listen," he started, a worried strictness in his tone. "When we get back to the castle, you and Impa are going to have a good meal, and rest. You will both be exempt from your duties so that you can have more days to heal and relax. You've more than earned them."
And the king knew Volga wouldn't exactly sit idle if another danger came up. Knew Volga would try his best to provide for his family and their country. He was worth more than the most valuable resources across the kingdoms, yet he still went out of his way to look after them. Zelda and the king would see through it to look after him too. Because in their own ways, they all looked after one another.
As for the demons, or whatever twisted magic was out there - they could bloody well try to invade. But they would be fools to do so now. Hyrule would have a bombardment to demolish their bases and those within, an army of battlemages, assassins, wardens, an abundant supply of siege, multi-purpose potions, healing, barriers - all of which didn't even finish everything the other royals had offered.
He would not get overconfident, or oblivious to their own weaknesses, but he was certain that until the foreign royals returned to their homeland, an enemy force would not want to wage a war with multiple kingdoms caught in the middle. That and, surely, the Guardian of Time would have seen something by now. He would write her another letter before they departed, and ask her about Commander Cia. But for now, it was time to go home, and review everything after getting much needed rest.