Chapter Three:
Eyes of Kali

Ceres

Ceres kept her eyes shut, and did her best to steady her breathing. Focus. In and out, just like Kubera taught her, back during the war. When she and Fae stay huddled at home, listening to explosions just outside the city gates as Castle Town faced what felt like an endless siege.

There was no siege this time. Just screams and the constant sounds of bodies breaking on the bridge above them and hitting the water much harder than expected as people took their chances with the fall or were not given one at all. More than that, she could hear the choked sobs of her children, Rini muttering in a mantra under her breath about the chill around them. She knew her daughter got cold easily, but there wasn't much to do beyond be thankful the attack didn't happen in the middle of winter where they would have died of exposure in the moat hours ago.

Ceres didn't dare open her eyes as long as she could hear the screams of the dying and the bodies hitting the bridge or the water. It was hard enough to make out people in the dark, of who was friend or foe. Harder still when she would see double. At least like this she would be able to shut out the dead. Not see them around her, nor lock eyes with them, letting them know the truth.

Because in the end, they knew. They always did. Saw her gaze linger a second too long.

Finally it became quiet. Or quieter. The screams were no longer echoing as much, leaving just the sound of muffled movement or sobs. The loudest, of course, were her children. At least to her. Ven was quieter than Rini was, and there were times she could feel the cold touch of the unmoving flesh of a corpse bump into them.

Opening her eyes, she could see not that far away the body of a neighbor, an elderly woman who always warmly smiled at her floating facedown in the water, arrows poking out of her back. The blood had already dried and her body was twisted in an unnatural way, as if she were trying to grasp life to no avail.

She wasn't the only one. Bodies of Hylians and Gerudo filled the moat. Some were old. Some were young. Ceres recognized more than she liked, many of them neighbors or people who came into the shop to buy her wares. She didn't know all by name, but she knew most by order. Like a little boy no older than five who insisted on the crunchiest bread they had every day after school let out like clockwork. An older woman who came in when strawberries were in season and bought out the last of her strawberry rhubarb pies, telling her every time without fail it tasted like her grandmother's. She would ramble out stories, milky eyes looking into a past only she could see.

Ceres tried many times to tell her the recipe, but she refused each time. She didn't have the heart to tell her who she got it from in the end. Some things were left better unsaid.

But there was movement. There was activity. The world itself around them was dead, but life didn't stop after death. Her eyes locked for a moment of a little one standing over his own body, tears staining his ghostly face. Nearby a guard whose head was decapitated, was locked in a fruitless, pointless, battle with a Gerudo. And then she saw her; the older woman with the milky eyes.

She saw her too. Saw her look.

A sad smile crossed her lips, and she pointed toward where the sun would kiss the horizon mouthing a single word.

Go.

They finally crawled out of the moat onto the east side of Zora's River. The normal route was usually Zora's Bridge and then a dirt road that led them to the base of the Eldin Mountains. As it travels up and through the mountains this road becomes Eldin Pass. The trudge up the pass was exhausting, but there was hardly time to rest. The Gerudo could be pursuing survivors fleeing Castle Town. When they rested, she made sure they were well hidden from the road. This became easier as they began hiking up the pass. There was more to hide behind, trees, bushes, and outcroppings of rock. The pass carved through the mountain sides that formed the small valley Kakariko was nestled in.

The pass narrowed with cliff faces to their left and their right. Old stone steps began to emerge from the pass road, partially claimed by earth and time. The pass then curved around to the right, winding eventually back left.

The steps soon faded back into the dirt as the pass began to level out, no longer going up in an incline. It started to slope down gently, the cliff faces continuing to frame the sides of the pass. Soon the gate was within her view. The wooden panels of the tall fence framed was even the faint glint of a magic barrier protecting the village in the darkness. Dark figures stood by the gates.

Ceres never thought she would ever come back to Kakariko.

When she left with Kubera and Fae, she hadn't looked back once. She didn't even return to bury her mother; she left that chore to her husband. Even when they made plans on what to do in this very scenario after his royal dumbass decided to trust Ganondorf, Ceres still didn't expect to find herself at the gates of her hometown.

Glancing at her two children, Ceres pressed her lips, suddenly missing the anonymity of Castle Town. Where eyes would slide right past her on the street and people smiled at her like they would anyone else. There would be no such respite in Kakariko.

Her heart clenched and she bent down so she was eye level with her children.

"I'm going to go check on the status of Kakariko. Stay a bit back until I let you know it's okay to come closer," she instructed, giving Ventus a look in particular. He always struggled listening to instructions, especially as of late, but unlike others she knew how sensitive his hearing was. If she didn't know it was a trait of his since birth, she would have sworn either Kubera or Killian taught him to Listen. As it was, she had to drag both men to the side and make them swear up and down not to teach him.

"How come?" Rini asked, hugging Anna closer to her chest.

"Just making sure it's safe." The lie slipped easily from her lips. Perhaps she should have told them the truth before this, just in case a day like today would happen, but she wanted to give them a freedom she never had.

They would learn, no doubt, in time, but Ceres would be damned if it was at the gate of a village which had become their second home. Would be their home until Castle Town was safe to return to.

Neither seemed that convinced, but Rini took her brother's hand and nodded. There was a grumble of complaint or acknowledgement from Ventus, perhaps both, but he pulled his sister closer protectively, the stick he had refused to let go of since they fled from Castle Town gripped tightly in his hand.

Letting out a breath, Ceres straightened out her back and strode toward the gates, hoping to appear more confident than she felt. However, as light began to shine on the dark figures by the gate, her face fell ever so slightly as she recognized one of them standing guard.

Vivian Glyndi.

The only living person her mother hated more than Ceres.

She was a tall and slender woman around the age of 60 by now. Mages' robes of blue with light accents adorned her, and her black hair peppered with gray was rolled into a neat bun. She spotted Ceres the same time she spotted her.

"Who goes there? Speak now or be attacked."

"Ceres Agni—Kubera Agni's wife. I'm here with my children, Ventus and Rini," Ceres replied promptly, putting her hands up and hoping to the goddesses Vivian didn't recognize her first name or remember her. It had been literal years after all, and it wasn't like she was a child anymore.

"Ceres Agni?" she repeated curiously, making her gut clench. "Come closer so we can see you in the light."

Don't recognize me. Don't recognize me. Don't recognize me.

Ceres didn't pray much to the goddesses, but it seemed in the past 24 hours she prayed more to them than she ever had in her life. Even when her mother lay her hands upon her, Ceres didn't beg those who had left this world for help. But it wasn't just her who was in danger now, but her children.

Stepping forward, trying to look more confident and composed than she felt, hands still in the air, she jerked her head back slightly. "My children are back there."

Her heart sank a thousand feet when Vivian's eyes narrowed onto hers when she stepped into the light. It was a sharp and hateful stare, and one of recognition. It lasted for a painful few seconds.

"We're full and cannot take anymore refugees," said the mage as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Go find another village."

It was bullshit. Both of them knew it. Both of them knew why. Her eyes flickered back to where Ventus and Rini were, and she lowered her voice enough so Vivian could hear but hopefully Ventus could not.

"Take my children at least?" she begged.

The guard next to Vivian was staring at her in confusion. "Vivian—"

"Don't be deceived. She's Ceres Kali," she cut him off quickly. "We don't need her kind here or her children."

Her eyes narrowed again upon her. Ceres scowled upon hearing the name she had all but thrown away spat back at her. She didn't care if they turned her away, but Ceres needed to get Ventus and Rini somewhere safe.

"My children are normal," Ceres growled. "They take after Kubera."

Of course that wasn't the complete truth. Ventus' hearing was abnormally heightened and Rini had an unusual obsession with fire, but when it came to her curse, it wasn't the same. They didn't see what she saw or at least didn't make any gesture they did.

"I don't care if you are so superstitious to keep me out, but are you going to turn two children away as well?"

"I'm afraid we just can't take the chance, after all we don't need one disaster after another," Vivian replied simply. "Now leave with your children before I force you to."

Ceres didn't want to take any chances. Last thing her children needed to see was the hatred of their kind, especially now. Turning on her heel she began to walk off, but not before pausing and looking back at Vivian with contempt in her eyes. She understood, perhaps for the first time, how her mother felt.

"My mother would have let my children in," she said. "Wonder what that says about you."

Letting the insinuation hang in the air for a moment longer, Ceres returned to the darkness.

"I'll take it as a compliment." She heard Vivian mutter as she left.

Ceres huddled in a flattened patch of tall grass, hidden in the shadow of a large protruding rock, with a child under each arm. She shivered against the cold of the night and squeezed her young ones closer. She would have made a fire if she weren't so afraid of attracting unwanted attention. Her eyes strained in the darkness, trying to keep the shadows from creating false enemies in the night. While she managed to coax Ventus and Rini to sleep, she couldn't relax herself despite the heaviness of her own eyes. At any moment the Gerudo could attack, and without Kubera around …

Her hand clenched at her skirt, knuckles turning white, her stomach twisting into tight knots with her frustration at her own powerlessness. Her teeth clenched with determination, but she wasn't able to keep the tears from gathering in her eyes. Hurriedly, she wiped them away, lest her children wake up and begin to worry.

Damn it, I should have foreseen this. Still, to not even take Ventus and Rini in … she thought, a finger caressing a strand of hair from Ventus' face.

She could understand, for once, her grandmother's rage. Her hatred. While in the past she wouldn't have minded to see Kakariko burn to the ground, this was the first time she wished to do the deed herself, and truth to be told if she had a fraction of her grandmother's power, Kakariko Village wouldn't need to worry about the Gerudo. Then they would have had a real reason to fear her, not that there would be anything left of that village to harbor the memory.

Mother always said she was dangerous. Why not prove her right?

Upon seeing those hateful eyes—those same eyes which always made Fae and herself pariahs for something they had no control over—directed in the direction of her children, she felt Kakariko Village should never have been rebuilt. It should have remained broken and in shambles after the last war. The only light that place had produced was Fae, Kubera and his parents and the Serwen twins.

None of them were with her now; her sister disappeared during the Gerudo War, and now her husband was risking his life, once again, for the people of the land. A sacrifice which the people of Kakariko Village couldn't even honor. Minerva had died during the Gerudo War as well, and Icarus died not too long after Ventus was born of a broken heart. She had no idea where Killian was, but she knew Tori and Amaya were at Lake Hylia.

Once more, she found herself unable to wait for the Gerudo to attack that village, finish off what they had failed to do ten years ago. While the scent of burning bodies in Castle Town made her retch, the smoke burning her eyes as she was forced to stick to the shadows to slip out of the city, she was sure that the same scent of burning flesh in Kakariko Village would be a wondrous perfume she could see herself becoming addicted to.

Perhaps darkness truly did run in the family, and despite this, she wished—perhaps not for the first time in her life—she had learned how to use her abilities as Fae tried to urge her to do more than once, no matter how illegal and taboo it was for non-Sheikah to possess them.

But she wasn't really a non-Sheikah either. This was accompanied with that bitter thorn of resentment that never really left her side. No matter what Mother—or anyone—said, she had every right to wield this power. Even if she had more Hylian blood, it didn't negate the Sheikah ancestry which ran through her veins.

Ah, but none of that mattered now.

Their plan relied on Kubera being with them, or if Ceres was being honest, the villagers taking in Ventus and Rini even if they turned her away. It was the main reason she allowed them to visit Kakariko Village so often—to introduce them as Agni. Kubera would be unable to join them while there were still civilians to evacuate from Castle Town, but that shouldn't have mattered.

Yet, like her, they had been turned away as Kali.

They saw her babies—Ventus, chasing after his father's shadow, proud to the end, showing off to all of those who would look his way, and Rini, sweet, sweet Rini, mischievous like her father but with a quicker wit which Ceres took credit for—as monsters. They saw the great grandchildren of a necromancer long dead, who had been executed publicly for all to see. This was to assure everyone she wouldn't raise herself, like the numerous bodies she brought back to life to take fifty more that horrible day in Castle Town, nearly adding a hundred more before she was finally taken down.

Yet, they were also the children of a royal knight, a hero during the Gerudo War. She had hoped that would have been enough, but was there something else she was missing?

Did Ventus figure the truth out? Was he told?

He hangs around with the Serwen boy a lot, she fretted, grasping, trying to find some sense in this madness. It would just be like Ventus to show off things he really shouldn't, and Tori and Amaya's boy was more adult than child, and he would be quick enough to figure out the truth. No doubt part of the reason he was tapped to be an elite guard, though she had other suspicions as well.

She, of course, had heard the whispers spoken even in Castle Town of the boy who spoke to nobody. Something about those deep, dark blue eyes always unnerved her, and she wondered—no—that wasn't quite right, she knew he could see what she saw, and by the rumors, maybe more so.

Ironic that it was the grandson of Elias Serwen, the man who became famous for taking down Aliyah Kali, her grandmother, "the greatest necromancer to ever live." Even now, she could see those cold green eyes boring into her own, goading her on, daring her to take one step out of line. To become like her grandmother was, and if she was honest, sometimes the thought was rather tempting. Just to spite him like she did her mother.

He had to have known her secret, though she would be more surprised if anyone from Kakariko didn't.

If she hadn't known he was dead—killed by a lightning strike out of all things—she would have suspected the cold-hearted man would have been the one to convince the stupid villagers to keep them out, not that they would have needed much of it.

There wasn't anything she could do about it now. She sighed, waiting for morning to come. The sooner they found a settlement to take them in, the better.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon, the second day after their first night, when Rini pointed out the smoke floating lazily in the distance. While in the past it was the sign of civilization, Ceres wouldn't rule out a smoldering wreck of what was once a Hylian village now. Still, it wasn't like they had much of a choice, so forcing a smile on her face, she urged her children onward.

"You think they'll let us in?" Rini asked, her voice a whisper, dragging her small feet along since they had left the second darkness began to lift.

Once more Ceres struggled to quell the rage bubbling inside her soul, but she forced it down. Right now they needed their mother to give them some sort of hope.

"Of course," she smiled, squeezing her daughter's hand.

"Then why didn't Kakariko Village?" Ventus asked, walking in front of them, dragging his stick through the tall grass.

Ceres saw Kubera's back in her son, strong and proud. Yet when he turned his head to look back at her, a jolt ran through her spine as she saw her eyes staring back at her—an intense hazel, blue and green with a blaze of golden brown encircling the pitch dark pupil.

Darkness and rage swam in them, and, for a moment, she panicked.

It wasn't like she never saw the flashes of darkness in her son boiling under the surface, but she always did her best to stifle it, making sure her son wouldn't grow it. So that he wouldn't turn out like her or her grandmother. She didn't want that sort of life for either of her children, as both had inherited her eyes. Kubera always did a better job of chasing away those shadows.

If the Kali were the darkness, Kubera was the sun.

"Because," she began hesitantly, trying to find an excuse, floundering for a moment before settling on a lie which was used to a degree. "There were other refugees who got there first, honey. A village can only support so many people. If you overburden it, everyone suffers. Kakariko Village isn't a farming community; it can't support a lot of people."

Ventus continued to look at her, searching, but he was no Sheikah who could discern truth from falsehood. Yet somehow the darkness didn't ebb away. It was almost like he knew she was lying. It made her uneasy and wonder if despite his blood, he was truly more Sheikah than Hylian.

"Yeah, okay," he grumbled in a tone which indicated he didn't believe a word coming out of her mouth, looking away once more, swinging his stick around, batting at the grass.

"Ventus," Ceres murmured. "People are scared right now; the Gerudo are attacking again, and Kakariko Village was really hit hard by the war last time. I know you eavesdropped on your father and his friends before, so you should know what happened. You'll have to forgive them."

Because the Goddesses know I'll never be able to.

"... Alright," Ventus grunted, although she could hear the unwillingness in his voice.

If her mother had been there, she would have beaten that tone out of Ven's voice like she tried to do with Ceres. Thankfully, Hera Kali never met her grandson; Kubera found her hanging from the rafters ten years ago soon after it became apparent Fae was never coming back from wherever she had fled to after the attack on Castle Town at the end of the war. She and her son had become more casualties.

When Kubera had told her the news, somberly informing her he buried her mother in Kakariko Village's graveyard, Ceres hadn't even shed a tear for the woman that given birth to her. There was no love lost between the two women anyway; Fae had always been Mother's favorite. She didn't have the cursed eyes of the Kali. She didn't have Ceres' darkness. She was the light the Kali needed, but the Gerudo snuffed it out, leaving the family once more in darkness.

While Ceres would never admit it out loud, a weight had been lifted off her shoulders the day she learned mother dearest strung herself from the rafters. No more would she fear being on the receiving end of her mother's tongue or her hand, nor would she need to fear for her children's safety from someone who was supposed to be blood.

"What if the Gerudo got there before us?" Rini asked, before her voice dropped even lower. "What if there is nowhere for us to go?"

Ceres squeezed her hand tighter but said nothing in response. Her children shouldn't be thinking about things like this, yet they were being forced to. They would have to start growing up too fast and too soon. Ventus wasn't even eleven yet; his birthday was still two weeks away, and Rini was only seven. Even if they didn't lose their lives, Ventus and Rini would never have their childlike-innocence again.

But anything was better than dead. The Gerudo War took her sister, mother-in-law, her brother-in-law, and her sweet nephew. Kubera lost even more beyond his arm; many of his friends had died at the hands of the Gerudo. It was why she couldn't fault him, despite the loneliness she felt at night, for never being home much after that. Kubera wasn't like her; he was too kind. He loved everyone in Hyrule and wanted to protect them all so nobody would have to go through that again.

Too bad the Gerudo didn't share that dream.

"There will always be a place for us," Ceres said, trying to think how best to alleviate her children's fears. "We just might have to carve our own though."

"How will we do that?" Ventus asked, looking back at his mother. Ceres smiled at him, the same exhausted smile she was sure her children were going to be getting now until the Gerudo were defeated once more.

"By never giving up."

The village, miraculously, was not burned down. As they approached, Ceres could see the beginning of a wall being formed around the fields, which were still green instead of a charred black, and the buildings, made of brick and wood standing proudly without any parts of them missing or on fire.

The wall wouldn't hold out against long sieges as it currently was, but something would be better than nothing. It seemed word of the Gerudo attack had spread to the sleepy village, and while she spotted some children tending the field, most of the adults seemed to be working on the wall, strengthening the defenses before the inevitable would occur.

However, much to Ceres' surprise, she spotted a familiar face; one she hadn't seen for a month at least. While Killian and Tori were twins, they had plenty of differences in their appearances. Tori kept his hair short and simple and his face shaved. Killian wore his haphazard hair, a trait they both shared, long. He kept it braided in a ponytail with the sides of his head shaved. A thick scar rippled through his right brow, across his nose, and into his cheek, interrupting the close-shaven beard on his face, which was part of his goatee.

Killian was a mercenary. A lot of his work was as a bodyguard for traveling merchants concerned about getting attacked by Gerudos on the road, a fear not unfounded now. He dressed the part with dark, leather gauntlets on his hands and forearms. More leather armor sheathed his torso and a sword was strapped to his back. His thick traveling tunic was faded navy-blue though only partially seen under his leathers, the long sleeves tucked into his gauntlets. Today his clothing was dirty, crusted in red in some parts, and torn. Even if this village had not yet seen an attack of the Gerudo, Killian must have.

"Killian?" she called out, approaching the wall, her grip on Ven's hand becoming tighter, so her son wouldn't recklessly run forward or do something he shouldn't.

"Ceres?" he replied in shock, turning and walking toward her. His green eyes glanced around, searching, and then focused back on her. "Are you all okay?"

"Yes, we're fine. We managed to escape … but Castle Town," Ceres said trailing off, knowing she didn't have to elaborate. Still, she breathed a sigh of relief, opting not to tell Killian about what happened in Kakariko Village—especially with the other villagers still in earshot.

Rini and Ven smiled up at him. Both had come to call him "Uncle Killian," despite him bearing no blood to them at all. He was their father's best friend and often their playmate when he visited them at their mother's bakery.

Killian smiled down at the kids. "Hey, Rini. Ven. You kiddos hangin' in there?"

"Yeah…" Rini said, still hugging Anna to her chest. "Are you okay, Uncle Killian?"

"We tried going to Kakariko Village, but it was already 'overburdened,'" Ventus complained, swinging his stick, scowling a bit. Ceres felt her heart skip a beat, feeling as if she should have told Ventus and Rini not to mention Kakariko Village, but she hadn't thought about it—since it would have led to more questions.

The weakening of Killian's smile told her he knew.

However, Ventus' scowl waned as his grin waxed, turning his gaze up at the older man, as he said, "But I guess that's okay, now."

Killian's smile strengthened almost as soon as it had weakened. "That's right."

He tousled Rini's hair and replied to her earlier question. "I'm doin' just fine … Me and some people on the road just ran into a little trouble last night, but I'm okay." He looked back up at Ceres, his expression becoming more somber. "Kubera is still in Castle Town?"

Ceres nodded solemnly. "You know how he is," she said, biting her lower lip.

She wanted him here, safe, with her and the kids, not his fate a questionable unknown. Who knew how long it would take for them to meet up again? Their plan was in ruins, although it wouldn't take Kubera long to figure out his wife and children weren't at their home village. It felt so naïve of them now, to think it would have been a good place to flee to.

"Right." Killian nodded, glancing to the west. Ceres knew that glance was for his brother and sister-in-law in Lake Hylia. No doubt he would help them get settled and then be on his way to check on his brother's family. "I'll show you where you can get some food, and we'll get a tent set up for you."

She smiled as he suggested what she had predicted. "It will have to do until Kubera gets back."