As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's posted up past chapter 75 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week, please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY from now until they're both caught up with each other (like I was doing with FwB until this weekend).

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to my DISCORD here: h- t_ t_ p-s -: -/ -/ -discord . g-g / N9yDA8t6Cw (taking out hyphens, underscores, and spaces of course).

Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, h-t_t_p-s -:- /-/ tinyurl _._ com /- 4ffb7wph with links to everything published. (Remove all Hyphens, Spaces, and Underscores, of course... 'cause Ffnet.)

NOTE:Merry Christmas Eve, or Happy Hannuka, Happy Kwanzaa, or whatever holiday you do or don't celebrate this time of year! Yes, I know, last chapter was dark. You don't need to tell me. I wrote it, remember? This one's lighter... if a bid sad in ways. More light to balance the dark follows. I AM planning on posting PTaL at some point tomorrow... including a bonus chapter, since I'm posting something for all three of my bigger stories tomorrow. :)

Chap. 41: In Memoria

"How can one person- one child- cause such trouble?" the harried-sounding woman muttered to herself as she hurried down the halls of her home. Behind her, two maids, a courier, a butler, and no fewer than sixteen guards in various states of disarray and undress, came after. One guard was still trying to pull on his shirt, red-faced as he followed the group, embarrassed at having been caught so unready for trouble.

"She's at that age," the oldest person in the group, one of the maids, added darkly, "and forgive me, m'lady, but if she wasn't your daughter, I'd be giving her a right spanking for what she's done in the kitchens."

"The kitchens?" the senior soldier growled from some distance back, "What about the barracks? She's sorted all our armor into other people's bins, and by type! And without us even noticing!"

"Don't think I haven't considered it," the woman in the lead told both of them, her voice severe as she pushed her long, flowing golden hair into a loose ponytail and pulled it through a cloth tie. "Somehow, in the dead of night, not only did she do all of that, but she got into my workshop."

There were several hisses of alarm and worry, most of the castle staff knew to leave the woman's private workshop well alone. She neither needed nor wanted their help tidying, organizing, or even guarding it. In fact, given the nature of some of her experiments and work, it was quite dangerous for anyone to be inside if they didn't know what they were doing.

"She... She didn't break anything, did she?" the other maid, one responsible in large part for watching over the tiny monstrosity the group was chasing after, asked tremulously.

"No, nothing I've seen yet, anyway," the blonde woman shook her head and left her tied-back hair alone to focus on making haste. "But she got into my notes, and tore out every single page she could find from the first four volumes. Then she started rearranging them in alphabetical order, based on the first word of each page! It's a good thing I number them!"

There were several snickers further back, but the woman in front had no time for scolding the guards or castle staff that thought it was funny. It would take her hours, perhaps days, to get her notes back in order! And her daughter could have been hurt!

Of course, it didn't help that none of them knew where her daughter, her precious little bird, was. The woman in question had an idea, but it was little more than a mother's hunch. Useful, no doubt, but of questionable efficacy. But there was a little more evidence to help. Her own chambers, the ones where the younger maid slept nearby, were spotless.
A trail of destruction and chaos followed in a near-line from there, however, and that meant her excitable, too-bright daughter had a goal in mind even if things kept distracting her. From the third-floor guard barracks, the trail led in a mostly-straight line to the second-floor kitchen, the first-floor library, pointing toward the southeastern gate-house. From there, who knew? She would check the gatehouse first of course, but beyond that was...
Castle Town. A veritable playground full of danger and wonder for an inquisitive child like her Zelda.

"Your Majesty, that fits with what she did in the barracks too," the same soldier, Lieutanant Carvey, she thought his name was, added as he huffed to catch up with the front group, "the armor's been arranged not by who owned it or who it fits, but by breastplate, pauldron, helm, gorget... all alphabetized, near as I can figure."

"The spices, too," the older maid told them, "all by name, just completely out of order. The first time anyone noticed was when the men were served their porridge and ham for breakfast with sugared ham and peppered porridge because the cook just reaches for the same spot every time!"

"Mind you, that wasn't bad in either case," one of the other soldiers called.

The queen only rolled her eyes as a small, near-breathless argument started between the soldiers who had liked the spicy porridge. It seemed the glazed ham was nearly a universal hit, not that she was surprised.

No... she had to find her daughter before she got hurt, or put in more danger.

When the entourage, which now numbered in the dozens as more had come to see what the commotion was, found the young lady, the queen burst into motion from a distance-eating, quick stride to an all-out run.

It was a good thing, too, as she scooped up the giggling four-year old and spun, throwing them both to the ground just as the heavy claymore she was trying to lift, no doubt razor-sharp, came crashing to the ground where her little bird had been.

"Your Majesty!"
"Your Highness!"

"My Lady!"

A myriad of cries called out to her, but she had ears for only one. Her giggling daughter was sobbing now, startled by the jerking motion and sudden shift in perspective as the mother nestled her to her chest. "It's alright, little bird. I've got you, Zelda."

As the crying, emerald-green eyes lifted themselves to meet her mother's softer, more jade-colored gaze, all thought of punishing her fled. Instead, the queen only sat up with her daughter in her lap and used a couple of fingers to push one lock of equally shining, golden hair out of the young princess' eyes. "My dearest little bird, please be careful. If that sword had landed on you..."

"I'm not hurt Mama," the precious child told her, serious despite the laughing and crying that she had flashed through in moments, "you just scared me."

The queen held her child close again for several seconds as the maids, housekeepers, butlers, and guards caught up, and the lieutenant started issuing orders to form a protective cordon. After her daughter had calmed, and she had gotten her own racing heart back down to a more manageable pace, she set Zelda down and rose gracefully to her feet, then scooped up the precocious four year old again. "Alright, little bird, tell me- how long have you been awake? You've made a big mess, and someone will have to clean it all up."

Zelda's bright eyes got very, very wide on her small, still-round face, "I didn't make a mess, Mama. I cleaned up messes! ... I've been awake since... dinner."

The last word was said quietly, so much so that the queen had to strain to hear even from a few inches away. "Since dinner? How will you grow to be a big girl, a grown-up princess, if you don't sleep, little bird?"

"I don't wanna grow up," the girl huffed, and crossed her arms in her mother's grasp, "I wanna stay a little bird."

The titters and laughter from the adults surrounding the royal pair did not help her discipline her child, who was already doted on by... well, everyone, including her and her father, the king. Still, she had to try. "I'm afraid you can't help that, Zelda. One day, all little girls grow up to be young women, and the young women grow up to be old ladies, like your mother."

"You aren't old, Mama, you're a Queen."

Said Queen only smiled and booped the tip of her child's nose with one finger, "I'm afraid I'm still older than you. And when you are my age, I might well be considered old. I will only be thirty-seven, but that's old enough, I think, for a little bird like you to think of as old. But still, why were you awake all night? Is that why you have these shadows hiding under your eyes?"

Zelda's eyes widened once more as her mother started walking, carrying her back toward the castle proper, "I have shadows on my eyes? Weird!"

"That's what happens when little princesses don't get enough sleep," the queen said, "just like they can get hurt by going places they shouldn't, and fooling around with things that don't belong to them. Like swords, armor, spices, and my notes."

"Your notes can't hurt me," Zelda scoffed proudly, "I only organized them better!"

"You still went into my workshop, and the kitchen, and the barracks, without asking or getting permission," the queen reminded her.

"And the tailor's workshop, too!" a young apprentice, new to the group, called.

The queen could only smile sadly and shake her head at the princess, "My dear little bird... you really must learn that not everywhere is safe for you. We tell you not to go places so that you don't get hurt."

"I won't get hurt if Mama or Papa are around," Zelda pointed out, "like today."

"That's true, your father and I will always protect you while we can, but what if we aren't? I only just arrived, and if I had been just a moment later, you would have been very badly hurt, or worse. Is that right?"

Zelda thought about it for a moment, her small lips pursing as her brow furrowed in deep thought. "Maybe? But you were around, so I didn't."

The queen, and many of the nearer entourage, smiled at the childish logic, but the monarch had to hug her child once more and reply softly, "But one day I won't be. I will protect and comfort you as much as I am able, little bird, but one day I must be gone from this world, and you will have no one but yourself and the goddess. I pray that on that day, you find comfort in knowing that I still watch you from beyond the stars."

"You're silly, Mama," Zelda giggled, and burrowed her head into her mother's neck.

"Perhaps I am. Perhaps," the queen replied, and held her little princess, the jewel of her life, a bit tighter. She was asleep before they reached the kitchens, where the queen's soft orders to allocate assistance helped get things set to right before the lunch meal had begun.

I remember my mother, Zelda realized, and wiped fresh tears from her eyes as best she could with her shoulders. It was all she had to do it with, as her hands were still tied at the wrist. No longer around the main support tree of the black Bokoblin's camp, but tied to a Bokoblin's waist instead. She did not know how long she had been at the camp, but at least one sunrise had warmed her skin, before the cold of sweat, slobber, and Bokoblin semen had been frigid against the dark night air that flowed down from the hills and mountains of East Necluda and offshore over the Necluda Sea. Her legs were equally bound, one to the ankle of the other black Bokoblin, the more subservient one, and the last to the same three-foot thick trunk she had been attached to first.

Her body ached and burned, and she itched everywhere. The Bokoblins had been relentless that first day, using her over and over, uncaring that she cried, that she begged for mercy, or that she bled from the wrists, the legs, and even her pussy. "Fresh Meat," they had called her, and worse. Probably the most traumatizing had been "Boko-Matron," because of what she had realized that meant even as she was raped again and again.

Eventually, the black Bokoblins had grown sated after... how many countless rounds between them? Zelda did not know, but it was a lot. Hours, and hours, upon hours again. Their refraction time seemed near instant at first, and the moment one had left her pussy, another had taken its place. By the time that was done, the first was using her mouth or hands, and rock-hard again. Between them, they had spent so much cum into her that her womb was distended and swollen, aching. She had vomited up what they spewed into her throat and mouth repeatedly. The first few times had been because of the potent, acrid, salty taste. The last several had been because her stomach just would not, could not, hold any more.

She had even started defecating semen, as that was all she had been fed for however long it had been. All she had drunk was their nasty, foul Bokoblin cum, which made her cunt burn with its potency.

Which made her all the more ashamed, because even as it hurt, Zelda...

Craved it. Craved more.

Why, though? Her tired, exhausted mind had no relief, and no answer. She had slept, some, when the Bokoblins had been resting. The red one had taken its turn then, after untold hours of the larger, more brutal black ones. When they had slept, he had mounted her quietly, in secret, and used her too.

At least he was small enough that it hadn't hurt, much.

But why did she want more? Why, when she was hoping to escape, desperate to get away and heal, come back with reinforcements and slaughter these beasts, was she laying, shivering, freezing cold, and desperate for them to wake up and start the process all over again?

Why hadn't her mother saved her? She was dead, obviously, and even somewhat delirious from dehydration, hunger, pain, and trauma, Zelda knew there was no help coming from that direction. Her father's ghost had lingered for a time, but there had been no sign of her mother.

Or had that all been a delusion?

A dream cooked up by her maddened mind as a way to cope with the pain of her life as these Bokoblins' plaything?

But no... no, that could not be.

Through one semen-caked and swollen-black eye, Zelda could see her weapons, her clothing, discarded and laying carelessly about the main platform of the camp where the Bokoblins slept.

The Sheikah Slate was still on her belt, which the creatures had never bothered to remove over hours. Perhaps they were scared to touch it?

That would make some sense if they knew it was what conjured her bombs.

Maybe... maybe she could use those, carefully placed, to shatter the ropes and mount the Bokoblins instead? Ride them, take their thick, swollen, hard cocks into her body and grind, bounce, and take their semen, and...

She shivered again, not from the cold.

Get a hold of yourself, Zelda, the princess chided herself, you are better than this. You must be. Why... Why is the thought so tempting, though?

She twitched, and tugged just a little to hard on one of the ropes. The larger of the black Bokoblins grunted, rolled over toward her, and idly scratched his own fluid-caked genitals. Then one searing, orange and blue eye, shining in the starlight, flashed open. "Hah... Chodled forget we have new Boko-Matron to use. No need for hand."

Zelda stayed motionless, only her eyes tracked the creature as he kipped smoothly to his feet and swaggered over. With strength no human should or likely could possess, the beast reached down and rolled Zelda over so she was on her hands and knees. Then, in one smooth motion, he stepped over her lower legs and pushed himself into her body. She whimpered in a strange dichotomy of pain and pleasure both and some of the cold, slimy fluid she had learned to ignore was pushed out to make way for him, and his steaming-hot, rigid member invaded her most intimate of places.

It was strangely gentle how he did it this time, smooth thrusting in and out with his hands on his hips. Almost like a man from behind, Zelda thought, if a bit faster and harder than most would be comfortable with.

She was already lubricated by the fluids from their many hours of previous activity, but she could feel her body responding anyway. Her nipples hardened, her nethers warmed from the inside as well as from the Bokoblin's shared body-heat and friction, and the princess felt her eyelids drifting closed in agony and bliss.

Why? Why?

Why do I like this so much...?
I should hate it. I should hate everything about it.
I should... I should want to die.

Not for him to fuck me faster, harder!

Zelda whimpered, and realized she was bouncing back into him as Chodled fisted a hand in her goopy, dirty hair, "You turning into good Boko-Matron now, slutty Princess. Chodled like it."

She could only moan as her pleasure mounted, replacing all forms of pain. Higher, higher still, until he unleashed himself inside her, and her vision went white.

Again, Zelda was being held in the arms of her mother.

She was not four years old, she was a hundred and eighteen. Her real, actual, chronological age, and her mother was a beautiful woman who looked just a few years older than Zelda herself.

They were nearly identical in height, their build the same slender type with a modest but perky chest, narrow waist and curvaceous hips and rear. Her mother's hair was a little darker, more like polished brass than gold, and...

"You aren't my mother," Zelda gasped, and pulled back a little.

"I am close enough, I think," the woman said with a faint smile. Her dress was simple, white, with a pink and yellow apron over it. Two ribbons held locks that framed her face, and her hair was straight and long, longer than Zelda's own, but her eyes were so achingly familiar. "I am your great- many-thousands-of-times-over grandmother, child."

Zelda shuddered, and pulled away further. Her eyes cast about, but all she could see was white. Not uniform, but white like the clouds, with slightly darker variations above and below, as if she were surrounded by the fluffy things. "Where- Where are we?"

The other woman looked around too with a soft smile, one that did look so very much like her mother's when she was a child. It was hauntingly familiar, and soothing, and completely at odds with what the calm, soft voice used as its answer. "We are in the depths of our soul."

"My- soul? Our soul?"

The other woman nodded once, "Mm. Come, sit with me, Zelda."

As she spoke, the clouds seemed to pull and twist at her gesture, and then there was a bench of marble. The other woman sat primly, smoothing her dress behind her as she did, then held out her hand, palm-up. "Come. Please."

With some trepidation, and a great deal of confusion, Zelda reached out to touch the other woman's hand, and realized at once why she felt so much compassion and familiarity with her. She did look just like her mother, and the old portraits of her grandmother and great-great-great grandmother, too. The oldest record of a queen of Hyrule that they possessed in the Royal Library had been her sixteen-generations-removed aunt, who had taken the throne after the king and queen at the time had been assassinated, then happily gave up the throne once their oldest son was of an age to take it. She looked just like her, too.

"Who- Who are you?"

"I am Zelda," the older-looking woman replied simply, "As are you. I am... you would say the first. I am the first Zelda, who was reincarnated as the Goddess Hylia. You are the latest in a long, long line, my child."

It could not be true. It just... could not.

"You do not understand, not yet," the older Zelda said with another kind smile, and patted her descendant's hand as she sat numbly, uncaring that she seemed to be naked. "We are as much one with each other as we are with the Goddess herself, for we all carry the same soul. We are her, and she is us. When you pray at the statues, you commune not just with her, but with us, all of us, including even yourself and the many who I expect will come after."

"I..."

"In actual answer to your question, my child," the other Zelda said, her kind, compassionate smile wavering only slightly, as if with barely-remembered pain, "you enjoy them- the monsters- because it is what we are. Since the time of Hylia, we have always loved the mortal races. It is why we were chosen to guard and protect them, and to keep watch over the Sacred Realm and the treasure within. We, above all other Goddesses or their creations, love life. We love passion. We love creating more life, and keeping it safe. We are the lovers, the wives, the mothers, of untold millions. Who better to watch over the children that the three Golden Goddesses left behind, than a mother, to watch after the wayward little ones? Who better to succor pain, to mend wounds, to heal hearts, than a mother?"

"I don't..."

Zelda realized she was crying, and the other her, the older her, she supposed, reached out tender hands to pull her into a quiet hug. She let her cry for some time, and the clouds drifted endlessly around them both. Eventually, she grew quiet enough in her ancestor's embrace to ask what she could not get out before. "But why.. monsters?"

"Because they are twisted, ruined by the Calamity Ganon's evil. Twisted by the servants of Demise, the ancient evil that the Goddess fought against in times ancient even when I was alive... but they are still alive. They still live, and thus, we love them, too. It is... in our nature."

"I shouldn't love them using me," Zelda whimpered.

A tender hand lifted one of the displaced locks of her hair, then leaned in to kiss her forehead, "But you do, because we also love passion. This is a... a method of defense, if it helps to think about it that way, my child. Rather than let your mind become scarred, damaged, is it not better to enjoy what would otherwise cut our soul to the core?"

"I..."

She did not know.

On one hand, that felt... obscene, in the worst sort of way. What kind of twisted person enjoyed being taken against their will, and by monsters no less? Who enjoyed being hurt, brutalized so intimately, invaded to the heart of their body, their very being?

"We do," the other Zelda answered her unasked question, her expression tender but ultimately compassionate and understanding, "because by doing so, we help mitigate the pain of their existence. We bring some small amount of joy and pleasure to the torture that is their lives. And yes, we enjoy the passion for ourselves, as well. At least, we try. It doesn't always work, that man was not so easy to disregard, his drugs or not."

Zelda hiccupped, and started sobbing as the other her, the other self, brought up the Yiga she had tried so desperately to forget. Again, the kind arms came around her, "But there is goodness, too, my child. Sagessa, and Prima, and Mina, and Mils, and others to come. Unless you fall here, or fall into despair, life will continue on. There is joy to be had equal to the sorrow. More, if we have anything to say about it."

Zelda hiccuped. That was something her mother had said a few times, something she was told she learned from her grandmother.

Joy to equal sorrow, and more if they have anything to say about it.

"Is there, though...? How could there be?"

"Your knight, to start," Zelda, the older one, sighed with a blissful smile. "We are so in love with him."

Her face heated, though she did not know why. The other Zelda smiled wider, this time with mirth dancing in her kind eyes, "He is like us, you know," she said, and let go with one arm to nudge the princess with her shoulder.

"How- what do you mean?"

The first Zelda's joy-filled smile softened, but did not fade, "He, like us, is trapped endlessly in a cycle of rebirth and reincarnation. The servant of Demise, Ganon the Defiler, cursed us when he was first locked away. Demise was powerful, and so became one with Ganon. Their curse was on our very souls, so, even Goddess-descended, we were unable to fight back against it. Hylia, our mother, our ancestor, intervened and gave yet more of herself, binding us together, to help mitigate the curse left by the Defiler. Not only us... but our Champion. He was always so handsome, so strong. Our knight, King of our hearts. Link."

"Link," Zelda exhaled, "I know that name... My father called him that."

The other Zelda nodded happily and took one of Zelda's hands in both of hers, then placed them on her lap. "You may have noticed several parallels. We are bound through Hylia to the Goddess Lanayru, and the Triforce of Wisdom. Link is bound through Hylia's blade to the Goddess Farore, and the Triforce of Courage. And Ganon the Defiler, who over the aeons has become Calamity Ganon, is bound through Demise's curse to the Goddess Din, and the Triforce of Power that he so covets."

"I don't... what is a Triforce?"

"Our time grows short, my child," the other Zelda said, her eyes suddenly darting up and over Zelda's left shoulder, "I will answer- we will answer- when we can. Know you are loved, and that the darkness will only win if we give up. Do not give up... but enjoy what you can, even in the darkest of times."

"But, wait, I-" Zelda stood from the bench, only to find she stood from nothing. The world of clouds lurched, only there were no clouds.

There was no other her, no ancestor, no...

Her body trembled and shuddered in ecstasy as Chodled orgasmed inside her yet again, her modest breasts swaying back and forth as her body rocked in time with his thrusts, but...

Her forehead burned.

Her forehead burned, and there was clarity.

Yes, she loved... and she loathed. We, as the first Zelda had said, loved all beings. Zelda herself did too, she knew, though some definitely more than others. She, the Zelda that currently existed and occupied a body that was being mounted as an animal would, was a bit more ambivalent. But she was clear-minded at last, neither in agony from being beaten half to death, or ecstasy from orgasm even though she just had done so.

And the Sheikah Slate was beneath her left hand, glowing, and her forehead burned in three distinct points.

Sparks of golden light drifted from her hand, where an ancient seal had once lay, now broken, but her forehead, if she could see it, gave off light like a miniature sun. A light that, though it reflected off even the wood beneath her, the Bokoblin Chodled did not seem to see.

Wounds closed, and he did not see.

Her body lapsed into rapture, and it did not stop her.

Fingers danced in ways she did not know they could, and the light shone upon the Sheikah Slate's screen.

She flipped it over mid-bounce as the Bokoblin rutted, and light shone into the eye symbol on the opposite side, which emitted the Runes.

And it grew brighter.

Back to the front, another bounce, and new words formed on the surface in both ancient Sheikah letters and Hylian.

Scared Power accessed. Sheikah Slate charge: 32%.

Backup Power: Off.

Primary Power: On.

Sheikah Runes enhanced.

What followed was a long list of alterations or different modes for the same Runes that flashed by. Zelda's mind boggled at the combinations listed, but two struck her attention at once, as they were ones she had been thinking about for some time.

Minibomb: Round. [Maximum 5]

Maxibomb: Round. [Consumes 8% Slate charge]

There were more, alterations to every Rune she possessed, some to weaken them and provide finer control, and others, like the Maxibomb: Round, that she presumed created even stronger effects at the cost of consuming some of the charge from her Sheikah Slate, which would, she also assumed, revert it to Backup Power, and weaken it once more.

User: Princess Zelda Amaryll Hyrule.

Acknowledged.

Access Granted: Tier Two.

Those were not words she expected, but she had seen similar ones before, when she woke in the Shrine of Resurrection.

Her mind flashed, and a hundred plans were created and discarded between one bouncing thrust and the next as the Bokoblin, still mid-orgasm, gave a sixth spurt.

Her fingers moved too, as time seemed to stand still.

Greater Stasis.

Charge: 22%.

Minibomb: Round (x5). Distribution Pattern: Forward Arc (30ยบ).

Multi-Magnesis: Pull.

Charge: 15%.

Zelda, mid orgasm herself, somehow threw herself down face-first onto the platform as bombs sprayed outward from the Slate ahead of herself. Toward the tree trunk, two toward the black Bokoblin, Mundu, and the last toward the littler red Bokoblin.

She hit the ground just as the slow-down effect wore off, and Chodled was able to react. The first thing he did was shriek in fury that his precious fuck-toy had yanked herself away from him before he was finished filling her.

The last was to shriek in agony as the metal that had been called toward her from all around the camp cut, slashed, and flew through or into his body as the power behind that movement cut out, but the momentum remained.

Zelda threw herself up and back, tumbling backward over Chodled's mangled body, and scooped up the first weapon she could with her free hand, while the other kept a tight, awkward grip on the Sheikah Slate. She hit Cryonis: Platform, which was just another shape, both lower and wider than the column that was the default, and tumbled further off the camp.

She came back up in shallow water just deep enough to touch her toes against the coral and sand below, sputtering and wet, then cast her eyes about. Her freshly made platform, almost raft-like in size and shape, bobbed a few feet away, while Mundu howled in fury above her. Zelda climbed onto the oddly warm ice as quickly as she could, heaving her dripping, almost naked body onto it with an act more of desperation than strength.

Two more applications of Cryonis, as the Bokoblins started hunting for where she had escaped to,gave her enough coverage to stay out of the water as she made her way to the platform, and made one last judgement call.

Maxibomb: Round brought her Slate's charge down to seven percent along with a warning that any further use of Runes- any at all- that day could make it go back into Backup Power mode.

It also created a rune-covered, glowing blue sphere taller than Zelda was and equally wide, with a handle she could have put her head through.

That, she guided with both arms to just below the ramp upward, then side-walked out, further way, and then broke into a run as she shouted, "I'm over here, you fucking bastards! Come get me!"

Two answering shrieks, one that sounded bloody thanks to the damage her flying weapons had caused it, followed, and Zelda threw herself to the ground near where she had hidden as she first started her assault on the sheep rustlers.

Black Bokoblins might be far smarter than red, and even a good bit than the blue, but the two were maddened by fury, lust, and injury, and placed no care for their safety. They bulled their way downward, her Flameblade clutched in one hand, and a spear in Chodled's more wounded one.

She was still eighty feet away when her massive bomb toppled the entire camp, sending a rain of splintered wood, rope, and bone out for three hundred yards in any direction.

Laughing, naked, mad-sounding herself, Zelda covered her head with both hands, still dripping sea-water, until the danger had passed, and then lifted it to peer over the ridge once more.

The trunk of the tree, which had once towered thirty or more feet from the water, now rose about two, and the top had splintered into five thousand jagged slivers of twisted wood. The platform itself was, as she had thought, scattered over hundreds of feet. The heavier items, like her armor and weapons, had not gone as far, and somehow, her satchel had landed on the beach.

There was no sign of the Bokoblins themselves, except one horn and a twisting, squirming purple bladder that bobbed onto the rocking waves her explosion had caused.

She grinned.

"At least Magnesis will make gathering up the metallic weapons easier, and the wooden ones float. It's going to be costly to replace that Sheikah armor, though."

Before she went to gather up her gear, all wounds washed away by the golden light that no longer shone from her forehead, Zelda reached down and scooped up some of the semen from her crotch, then brought it to her lips and pushed the fingers into her mouth. "Mm... Yummy. I should probably get some real food, though, before too long."