There was something unsettling about lying still in a house. It creaked. It groaned. And Joshua's snoring could be heard clearly through the walls. Softly embraced in thick blankets, instead of sheets, the entire situation was distinctly alien. Uncomfortable.
Ruuya could imagine the pendulum swinging in the grandfather clock below, counting the seconds as the night dragged on. She listened to the snoring and the bah-ing, knowing the family was still asleep. Her heart beat faster, and when she was certain the time was right, when her breathing had turned rough, Ruuya forced herself up. Long-used to the dark by now, she crawled out of bed, grabbed her pack sitting at the end, then crept to the door. She grabbed the curved horn acting as a handle and pulled it open, counting seconds and the sounds of a peaceful sleep. The trek down the hallway was quick, the soft, plush rugs muffling her footsteps. Then it was fifteen steps to the bottom of the stairs, avoiding the squeaky second one from the top, and clutching the smooth railing as if her life depended on it.
Pale light shone through the windows, leaving patches of wood and rug exposed. She looked past them to the rest of the house. The entirety of the first floor was strangely transformed without day- or candlelight. Harmless objects cast menacing shadows, watching her creep through the darkness down the stairs, past the kitchen, and into the great room.
The door opened smoothly, just as the bedroom door had. Ruuya slipped in, allowing the door to close behind her with a quiet thud. She smiled to herself. The old journal was right where Alysse had left it hours before: closed and neatly placed on the top of the book case. She smiled; yes, Alysse had helped her, but she had also lied to her, even if it was to protect a child.
No one is more petty than a petty thief. It was a small thing, a bit of vengeance, and well...it was a book.
She snatched the journal, sliding it in the large pocket sewn into the cloak of invisibility next to the map. The strange garb was yet another gift that the owl had given her. It was certainly valuable, perhaps the only one in the entirety of the Dark World. And it had been given to a traitor like herself. For a moment, she felt a smidgen of regret.
Then she heard a hoofbeat in the night, and fled, only glancing up after she had left the front yard. Someone had lit an oil lamp - that was Nan's bedroom window - a small lump rose in her throat. She gave a farewell salute, rising three fingers to her forehead, and then stumbled off into the night, slipping out of the town and into the fields beyond.
At every sound, she jumped. Any breeze. She wasn't even where the monsters roamed, but the fields looked different in the night. The shadows were long and deep now, the huts looked like skulls and tombs in the pale, green moonlight. Near the edge of town, where Flow's tower stood, she stopped, considering it. She could comb it for the witch's key to the fortress, but the place was more cluttered than a lizalfos lair. A useless endeavor to pursue, or consider further, so she moved on.
She didn't have time. If I can find the secret entrance...I won't need it, she thought, I just have to hope nothing has happened to it since Bast was there.
The imagined edge of the village came and went. Ruuya's focus switched from the fortress in the mountains to the dangers on the ground. Jamila would wait - had to wait. She swept her gaze across the plain, scrutinizing every shadow, whether or not it moved.
The awkward, heavy steps brought on by her new accursed boots were impossible to ignore, unfortunately.
Slowly, she began crossing the desolate field. She paused for a moment, wincing when her boots came down harder than she wanted. Nothing moved. No bugs chirped in the weeds and yellowed grass, unlike in the Light World. Save for the slight breeze, the world was silent.
This, she decided, was stupid. Suicidally stupid, even, to be out in the middle of monster-infested fields in the dead of night. She killed leevers and the occasional vulture for a living. The monsters she saw from a distance were taller, quicker, and likely lethal.
She scanned the plains again, wondering how far from the village she had walked. The mountain looked like a sleeping beast in the moonlight, and the red and white eyes of the trees were its sentries.
Ruuya held her breath, then tugged her bottom lip from out between her teeth. The two glowing white lights moved. And the shadow they were attached to wasn't far. It stared at her for a long moment, softly growling. She stared right back, fingers curling at her sides. She swallowed.
"George?" she croaked. The looming creature before her huffed, and nodded. When his eyes left her, the air rushed out of Ruuya's lungs in a sigh of relief.
"Do not linger, small hunter," he said, giving her a short nod. The voice rumbled with authority. "Go before the honor-less curs awaken."
Ruuya found herself nodding, and quickly marching onwards. Her mind filled with echoes of the Lynel's command, and before she knew it, she had crossed the empty expanse and was walking through higher grass. It was much coarser than the kind in Hyrule, more similar to the sparse patches of grass that grew in the desert.
Fitting for a land strangled of life.
What little light the moon provided outlined strangely-capped trees, massive boulders, and huge swaths of missing grass where the ground dipped. This, Ruuya discovered, was not always safe to step into as the three-foot gash in the earth she fell in attested to.
"Gah! Son of a...jackal-faced voe!" Ruuya heaved herself out of the hole, grunting in frustration. Standing, she exhaled heavily, then listened. One heartbeat, two. She counted a hundred heart beats, the silence of the night never wavering, then set off again. She avoided the empty patches after that.
Farther and farther she walked, climbing hills and winding around ponds and lakes. Twice she spotted the bright light of a bonfire a ways off. She ignored them.
The sky grew lighter. The details of the world became more obvious.
Ruuya slowed, and sighed. As comfy as her feet were - and wasn't that a strange thing? - she was tired. Backtracking a half mile, she headed into the skeleton of a ruined house. A couple of crates and pots had been left to decay and collect dust. Taking care not to break any of them, she shoved them into an intact corner, leaving just enough room to huddle behind them. She tossed a couple loose planks on top of the crate, and pushed them over the exposed corner. Then, she hunkered down, knapsack in-between her stomach and legs, and fell asleep.
/-/-/
Like a tired man opening his eyes at the break of day, morning came upon the Village of Outcasts. A pale grey fog had risen from the earth and settled upon the land, making buildings appear as dark monoliths and lantern turn into globes of light in the mist, ghostly and ethereal. Most would not leave their homes on a morning like this, they feared the fog might contain the souls of the damned, cursed to wander the world as shadows of their former selves for all eternity…
It seemed an odd fear, considering that it was the villagers who were most likely the very damned the gods had cursed. At the very least, if one were to ask Alysse, the other villagers were all a quite superstitious bunch.
Gods, thought Alysse, taking a sip of her tea. She flinched. It was too hot. She sat on her oversized balcony overlooking the manor's front yard, though she could not make out the flowering plants below from such a height. They were obscured by both fog and poor vision. Bast would say I have grown far too pessimistic. Cynical.
Alysse took another sip, frowned, and sighed, placing it on the end table beside her chair, watching as the steam rose and swirled, eventually intertwining with the red-tainted fog. Perhaps she should have taken a few cubes of sugar as well. She shivered. It was a cold morning, too, perhaps she should brought a shawl or blanket as well...
But she felt she didn't deserved such luxuries. She'd sent another girl to her death all for a fool's errand.
A faint, foolish hope.
And she'd do it again in a heartbeat if it gave her another chance to protect Nan. She would not let that girl die like Bast had. They both had the same tenacious spirit.
What would Bast think? Would she hate her?
She felt a chill at that thought, but doused it with another sip of too-hot tea. She had promises to keep, to Bast and others.
"Mother?" The word sprung from the mists, perhaps Bast's wraith had come for her at last. The shadow of her daughter approached, coalescing into the form of a goat-like person. A very small one, in fact. "Ruu's gone."
Ah, so Naneth had found the empty bed it seemed. Alysse nodded, taking another sip of her all-too-bitter tea.
"Did you know?" Naneth approached her chair, carrying a folded blanket in her arms. She plopped this down unceremoniously on Alysse's lap, covered her legs, and then sat on the chair on the opposite side of the small end table. "She stole the goods we were going to give her. Who does that?"
Alysse found it in herself to chuckle. Naneth was still so innocent despite growing up in this darkened realm. This hell. "They were hers, Nan, we did buy them specifically for her journey."
Naneth sighed. "Maa."
"Yes, dear?"
"I...guess it ain't -"
"Isn't."
Nan rolled her eyes. "It ain't the thieving, though, that's bugging me," she said, smiling mischievously. She had used improper grammar on purpose. Both times, apparently. Dear gods, she was becoming more like Bast every passing day. Soon, she'd convince the guards to train her...what then? "She didn't say goodbye."
"Ah."
"Didn't even leave a note or nothin'." She folded her arms, then took something out of her pocket. Sugar cubes. Naneth dropped these into Alysse's tea and then produced a wooden spoon, stirring them in. "It's just not polite, maa."
"Perhaps she didn't want a large send off." Bast hadn't, either. Adventurers and thieves, those were the type that tended to sneak off in the middle of the night and take things you left lying around. She hadn't expected Ruuya to wait for sunrise. Of course the latter did so because they had devious business to be about, but, she had met several adventurers in her time. They usually weren't that much better. "Night is safer in some ways…"
"I guess," Naneth said. "But this is the Dark World. There's redead and poes and -"
"Naneth." She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Why don't you fetch my lute?"
"I…" she started, then swallowed. "Your hands. I thought they hurt too much to..."
She chose to ignore the worry written clearly on the child's face.
"Ruu didn't loot it did she?" she smiled. That pun tasted like her own cooking.
Naneth moaned. "Maa!"
"And bring some incense."
Naneth tilted her head. Neither her or Joshua beseeched the gods often, she knew the girl wondered why, but Alysse had fervently refused to answer those kinds of questions.
"Perhaps the best we can do is pray," she explained. Though she doubted the gods would care to listen to ones such as them; indeed, if there were any gods at all. Deep down, she had always doubted. Since coming to this world, it seemed the gods were either dead, asleep, or deaf - they did not listen to the prayers of the shadows of men. The gods only cared about punishing those they had damned. For Naneth, however, she could pretend to believe that they still might heed her anyways. "Go. It might be the only hope that poor girl has."
Naneth nodded and scurried back inside. A shadow flickered in the mist, the sun rose bathing the land in rose red sunlight, and two figures stood, a pair of watchmen keeping vigil in the world of the fallen and the damned.
But to Alysse, hope remained dead.
/-/-/
The trip from the village to the mountain's base vexatiously took more time than Ruuya realized. She had been spoiled by horseback and daylight travel for years. Without either, the trek across the darkened countryside was nerve-wracking. Monsters small and large slumbered in groups, wherever the natural curve of caves and formations of rock could shelter them. Ruuya had given both the forests and camps a large berth, unwilling to risk waking a single one of them up, even for a crude weapon or food. Their camps reeked so badly of rotten meat and refuse, though, that even if she had been tempted by the thought of pilfering a weapon or two, she didn't have the bravery to go tip-toeing up to them.
But then the sun would creep over the horizon, the sky lightening and filling her with unease.
She hid. She slept. She watched. The monsters would lie down again, allowing her to crawl out from her hiding space, and she would continue on again.
For several days that had been her routine. Now, peeking through the underbrush from a treeline, she considered what to do about the Lynel stalking around the colosseum grounds. The afternoon light glinted off the weapon in its hand, easily as large as its thigh. She knew something had been wrong from the lack of clearings and fires for so long. She had found a few monsters that dwarfed her by a good dozen feet or so, and they had all been left well enough alone by the smaller ones. Never, though, had she given thought that there might be a battle-scarred Lynel stalking the area.
She sent a silent thank you to the goddess of the sands that she hadn't run down the slope the second she got to the treeline.
Ruuya swallowed. Rubble was strewn about the ground, weeds were plentiful, and the only other simile of covering was a smattering of thin trees further out. They were planted too uniformly to be natural, though. A pathway?
Ruuya huffed into her sleeve, suppressing a cough that chased after. The inside of the ruins had to be inhabited; it was tall, defensible, and gave an advantage against anyone who dared to get close.
Maybe she would have better luck waiting until night.
Ruuya glanced back at the Lynel, then looked again.
It had turned around.
And its head was tilted up.
At her.
She stared, waiting for it to move on. It hadn't seen her tails; they were tied together with vines.
It wouldn't stop staring.
Slowly, Ruuya backed away from the treeline, never breaking eye contact. Branches began to obscure her vision. Maybe it obscured his as well.
Then a savage roar pierced the air, a warm gust blowing past her cheeks. Dear gods...
Ruuya scrambled to her feet and ran for all she was worth. Behind her, the sound of hooves grew closer. They stopped, for just a second, and then wood was snapping and crunching, metal slashing through boughs, and this was how she was going to die: run down by a horse-lion-voe-thing that apparently had the eyesight of a hawk.
The crashing grew louder, her heart pounded against her chest. The roaring, within and without, was ceaseless, spurring her on. She dove between trees, leaped over debris, and zig-zagged through the woods. Yet the smashing, the stomping, the bellowing followed her. Panting, she dug her claws into the thickest tree in sight, and scurried up into its branches.
Ruuya gasped, catching her breath. Below, the Lynel slowed, and walked to the base of the tree. From her perch a couple dozen feet up, she grinned. The monster eyed her. He rested his massive blade on his back.
Then he took out a bow.
Ruuya's mouth opened. The monster nocked an arrow. The end sparked with yellow arcs.
She dropped to a lower branch, a hearty crack sounding from above. Ruuya looked up at the charred branches, one partially snapped, tingling electricity still. A glance back: the Lynel nocked another arrow, a wide grin ripping its face in half.
Her heart slammed against her chest.
The arrow flew.
She dove out of the tree, rolled, and slid to the side. A moment later, the tree cracked, toppling in her wake, landing on top of her shadow.
If I'd waited just one moment to move… She swallowed. No, she couldn't think of that. Couldn't consider it. She fled, her bound tails chasing her.
The Lynel did not follow or bellow. But she knew better. She moved through the woods much like before. She couldn't stop, couldn't look, just thread her way forward.
A tree shattered into splinters near her head.
She kept running.
All around her, trees and earth exploded. The Lynel was tracking her without sight, by smell alone. Or maybe it was walking proudly, stalking her. She didn't care to know.
She ran, and then tripped, falling face-first into an open cavity in the earth. Dear gods, she thought, not now. She immediately looked up from where she laid; a shadow - the Lynel - leaped over the pit.
It didn't notice her. It didn't come back.
She closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping forward, and breathed out, thanking the goddess of the sands for her good fortune. Opening her eyes, she peeked upwards again out of the hole. Off on the side she tumbled down from, the sunlight glinted off of something.
The tip of a rusted sword, poking through the ground. It certainly explained the pain in her foot.
Bast's sword maybe…? Climbing out of the pit, she took the hilt of the blade and yanked it out of the earth. Near it was a shield, but it was made of wood, half-rotten, and covered in termites.
That would probably give her lock-jaw. The sword would do. Finally, she could defend herself to some extent. She turned back, glancing at the hole for a moment. Then gasped.
It wasn't just a pit after all. The sides were too smooth, and torch brackets didn't form naturally. But Alysse said it was in the Colosseum… she thought, this time carefully descending into the passage. Then again, Bast probably wasn't completely lucid the last time she saw her mother.
She'd seen blood lost before. It could make a person suffer from many things from fatigue to delusions. Sticking her hand into her sack, she pulled out the lantern Nan had packed, then she pulled out a bottle, uncorked it, and frowned. It was white, powdery, and definitely not liquid.
That's not lantern oil. She sniffed it, then felt slightly woozy. Sleeping powder? The hell?
Ruuya rolled her eyes. Why would Nan think she needed that? She put it back inside the bag, took out the correct bottle, and lit the lantern.
Suddenly, the cavern was lit with an orange glow. Before her was a small opening made of stone and wood. If there ever was a door here, it had rotted off its hinges long ago, and those hinges had been stolen by some beast. Taking a deep breath, she marched into the tunnel, pushing aside a few cobwebs that blocked her way.
She was finally here, or close to it. Hopefully this wasn't some underground labyrinth.
She coughed. ...shit.
It probably was. Ruuya considered running back out, but then recalled that the Lynel had probably realized it had lost her by now and had backtracked to where she had fallen -
The Lynel roared.
Ruuya fled. Into darkness. Into shadow. It didn't matter. It was either the caverns or death.
She just prayed she'd see sunlight again someday.
/-/-/
How long have I been here?
She heard water dripping somewhere in the deep. Her feet hurt. Her stomach rumbled. She didn't know if she had been traveling for minutes, hours, or days.
She didn't know if she'd been going in circles either. Gods, she wished she had some magic string.
If only I could make heads or tails of this damn map, she thought. She had gotten to some part of the palace - how she did so quickly without going upwards for thousands of feet, she still didn't know - and found the map utterly useless. From what she could fathom, the map didn't even have these passages. It was like the person who had made it - Vaati or his mapmaker - had purposefully left it out.
As if the voe feared his own troops - moblins, dark nuts, wizzrobes, and things - would betray him at a drop of a hat.
Vaati sure was quite paranoid for a super powerful sorcerer. Ruuya shook her head, trudging further into darkness, then stopped. She had come to a large rotunda, floor to ceiling columns forming an inner ring and an outer ring, which was cut by three large stained glass windows in the south.
The largest of the three displayed a picture of Vaati in his prime. With lilac hair, rich, violet robes, a funny hat, deep crimson eyes, and a large red ruby on his forehead, he was a surprisingly handsome voe. She frowned at that thought.
Handsome? Really? He's so pale that aged parchment looks tan! You need better choices in voe, Ruu.
She heard water drip. Close. Closer than she remembered. It wasn't steady, it...wasn't water.
It hadn't been water this whole time, she realized.
Without hesitation, she scampered out of the rotunda, running blindly through the palace. As soon as she could not hear the "water" drip, she leaned against the wall, slipping down until
she rolled up into a ball, holding her legs against her chest.
Coward, she accused. This palace is up on a mountain surrounded by ice and snow. It's probably just leaking, somewhere it's not -
Drip.
She swallowed.
- a big -
Drip.
- deal.
But it was better to live than to be sorry and dead. Ruuya took the invisibility cloak from her sack and the green potion Nan had packed. The potion would give her temporary magic to fuel the cloak's power; hopefully it would last long enough so she could escape whatever monster had found her.
Ruuya took a draught then threw on the cloak, slipping down another corridor.
She'd been right about this place being a labyrinth. While lavishly decorated with statues, paintings, and hanging colored cloth, nothing in the layout made sense. Large staircases would lead down to single rooms. Turning the same way twice would sometimes lead her not to a third hall connecting to the first, but imposing statues of the ancient sorcerer. And there were more than enough dead ends that made her backtrack, only to go another way to avoid heavy, rhythmic clanking.
The palace was absolutely maddening.
She supposed that was something else all leaders had in common: obviously strange things done in the name of nonsense. Or paranoia.
Drip.
Clank. Clank.
Ruuya swallowed hard. Cloak or not, she did not want to meet the sources of the sounds in this hell-maze. She turned down another hallway, and through the first normal-looking door she found. Inside it was dark as pitch, but quiet. She closed the door, and pressed herself against it, waiting.
She reached for the lantern, and briefly lit the room. Better to know what lurked in the darkness while hiding in it.
Ruuya's fingers twitched. It wasn't a room; it was another small corridor.
Clank.
Drip.
Ruuya shut off the lantern, took a breath, and marched further on. A cool draft brushed her legs. A way outside?
A familiar tingling spread through her from toe to head. The sounds of her pursuers faded into nothing.
Ruuya stopped walking. The ground beneath her feet sounded...off. Different. There was no soft carpeting under her boots, only uneven paving stones of various grey hues. There were no windows here, no slits which she could use to look out and see the snow covered mountains. But the large hall smelled more damp and earthen, as though she were somehow underground. Then she noticed something in the dark. The glint of metal bars.
Cages lined the walls like books on a shelf. The prisoners were long forgotten, each one an old skeleton clothed in the remnants of rags. In one cage, she thought she recognized a wizzrobe's beak, though she couldn't be sure. Perhaps Vaati had imprisoned a giant cucco instead.
It's the palace dungeons. Didn't Alysse say they were under the colosseum…? Ruuya took out her map and smiled, noting the words "prison" and "Darknut" in the northern portion. It meant Vaati's prison couldn't be far. Only a little farther and she'd finally...be able to rest her feet a little, if she was lucky. All this running through the fortress had exhausted her.
Whatever she would find down in these dungeons had better be worthwhile.
A loud clank echoed down the corridor, followed by the distinct sound of a large voe wearing a suit of armor. She dove to the side by instinct, running down another passageway lined with prison cells on either side, but instead of escaping the prison guard, she nearly ran into the back of a large voe in black armor standing watch. It swiveled around, one hand on the hilt of its sword, the other on the sword's ornate scabbard.
Shit. That's no voe. Fierce, red eyes glared at her from under its thick, horned visor. She swallowed, but found her feet frozen, locked in place by fear. It's a darknut.
It swung its broadsword, the blade nearly missing the tip of her pointed ears. It was a message: go or die. The darknut gave her a curt nod.
It had a sense of honor, at least; but Ruuya knew she couldn't flee this fight. This was the creature guarding Vaati's prison. Beyond it rested her goal, but how could she get around it?
Pretend to run, she thought. Trick it to think you've given up then come up with a plan. You're a thief - a conwoman - you can do this.
Those thoughts sounded distinctly like Veil. It felt good to hear that voice again.
She nodded, turned, and left down the corridor which she had entered the small circular chamber from. Soon, she ducked into one of the prison cells. It was a small square room, mold clinging to the earthen walls. Lengths of rusty chain stretched from the center to the blackened back wall. Ruuya had a brief thought for the pitiful prisoner who was now long dead, then eyed the scrap of paper left under a shackle. By the dim lighting of the torches lining the passage, she could make out something or other scrawled on it. Prisoners wouldn't be given precious paper in a world such as this. Thus, instinctively, she picked it up and pocketed it.
The clanking was coming again. Ruuya turned Bast's rusted sword over in her hand. She was unfamiliar with its shape and weight. For a quick skirmish it was better than nothing, but against a skilled opponent, using it was just asking for death. She tucked the grip of the sword under one arm, and opened her bag, sorting through the contents. The magic potion was half gone; some roots and herbs had mixed with her tinder; the small knife was laughable; and purple dust had settled over the mouth of a small bag.
She paused, then brought out the sleeping powder, holding the bottle aloof. Would it even work on a darknut?
Clank. Clank.
What other choice did she have? It was either this, or give up. And she would not surrender, not after she had come so damn far.
Ruuya took a deep breath, hefted the travel bag over her shoulder again, and opened the small bottle of powder. She held the bottle out away from her at arm's length. Breathing shallowly, she poured out a handful, and waited.
When the clanking was only meters away, she breathed in deeply, brought her arm closer, and held her breath.
The darknut stepped into view. Ruuya threw a handful of powder straight at the helmet's opening.
Ruuya stepped away, stuffing her nose inside her shirt. Immediately, the monster began coughing, a slight sway to its stance. Unwilling to let go of the advantage, Ruuya took out another handful of white dust, and threw it at its face. The darknut stumbled into the cell, dragging its sword along the ground. Ruuya, breath held, hopped away, then threw another handful of powder. The darknut stumbled and she ran around it, back out into the stone corridor.
The sound of metal striking stone, of a sword falling to the ground, reverberated throughout the hallway, sending chills up her spine.
Ruuya raised her head and gasped for air. She waited, breaths quickening.
The clanking did not start again.
Daring to look back at the darknut, she crept back to the cell. Inside, the knight laid upon the ground, his great blade out of reach. Listening to the slow, deep breaths, she smiled tremulously.
The darknut, the Jackal of Death, had slumped down and fallen asleep, head against its chest. It snored soundly, as dead to the world as a slumbering child.
Sending a silent thank you to Nan, Ruuya corked the bottle and carefully turned to go, eyes still roving the prison cell. Then took a step backwards. Lying by the warrior's waist was a large decorated key. Fingers twitching, she filched it, and raced back down the corridor. She slipped the sleeping powder back into the sack, took hold of the rusted sword again, and wiped off the leftover bits of powder on her pants. No dripping or clanking. She was free.
Well. As free as anyone could get in this damned maze, but she would take it.
The corridor quickly ended at a wide metal door. An engraving of a wide-open eye had been carved into the center. Judging by the rough lines and uneven gouges, it likely hadn't been in the original plans. Ruuya tapped her thigh. She had come this far in search of an answer, any answer. Yet, the door had no knobs or handles that she could see.
Humming, she brought out the gaudy key. The grip was practically nonexistent, replaced with a flat, solid circle and the picture of an eye.
Of course the demon would have a key for exploring further into the hell-maze. Of course. Why did demons have to be so dramatic?
She prodded the eye on the door, only stopping when the pupil drew back, revealing a strangely-shaped hole. She slid the key in place, then twisted. Inside the door, something clinked. Gears spun. Tumblers fell into place. Like music, almost, a strange metallic melody arising in the dark. She took a step back, and the door slid open, retracting into the wall.
Slowly, she entered the chamber beyond, the door slammed shut the moment she was through. She rounded the room, mesmerized by the giant, floating crystal at its center, floating above a stone pedestal. Inside it rested a voe encased in an eternal sleep.
She placed a hand on its smooth surface, staring past her reflection and looking at him. The voe inside the crystal was frail and pale, nearly a corpse. His violet robes, ragged, his lilac-white hair long, greyed, and covered in soot. For a moment, she pitied him.
"For such a great lord," she said, her voice seemed to echo despite that it rose barely above a whisper, "you look like shit."
She looked away from the stone, searching the walls for anything that might release him from his prison. She saw nothing; no eye-switches, no-glass switches, not even a few unlit torches. She looked up at the ceiling; there was nothing there either. She padded across the entire floor. Still no switch of any kind.
The room was otherwise empty, except for the floating crystal, its occupant, and the round pedestal it floated above. How was she supposed to free him? Could she? She had no magic of her own, no real weapons beside Bast's rusty sword. She'd gotten so far, only to find him - still alive, even - and find out that the whole damn thing had been for naught.
She slammed a fist a fist against the stupid crystal. Then sighed. Frustrated.
Dammit. Ruuya sat down on the edge of the pedestal, bashing her head against the crystal, then covering her face in her paws. Tears damped her fur. All this effort, and it was worthless.
What would she tell the others? That she had found him and failed anyways? That would be fantastic news! Worse: what would she tell Nan? How could she live knowing - no, not knowing if Jamila was alright?
She stood, then, in one last moment of rage, slammed her foot into the stone pedestal.
It gave.
Suddenly, the room filled with a blinding bright light, the crystal breaking into millions of pieces. Vaati fell to his hands and knees, then gasped, coughing.
"Are you alright?" she asked, offering a hand, intent on helping him to his feet.
He slapped it away, weakly, holding up his hand. A wispy red glow wreathed his wrist. Yet no magic sprung forth from his fingertips. Vaati looked at his hand, and scowled.
Ruuya humphed in dismay, placing a hand on her hip. What good was an all-powerful sorcerer without his magic?
Din Aflame! He was alive, awake, and completely useless anyways.
"Do I look alright to..." he started, blinking once. He stared at her with blood red eyes. "What in the hell is a damn keaton doing here?"
What an asshole.
"Rescuing you, unfortunately."
"Rather sleep than that," he muttered, he crawled back from her, curling his hand like a claw. "Be gone, you fiend."
Great. He hated her. She glared.
"You're mistaken, you idiot." That probably wasn't the best way to put it, but Ruuya's feet ached. Her back ached. Even muscles she didn't know the names of ached. She was too exhausted for all this. "I'm a Gerudo."
"Ha."
"And, like it or not," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling the former sorcerer to his feet despite his weak attempts to refuse her aid. "We - "
Something loud echoed in the hallway. The darknut had awoken. It was breaking down the door, slamming it's large blade against it. For a moment, she thought it couldn't open it...but the door began to give.
Dear gods. Not now. Please.
"- need to get going. Now."
"There's a teleporter in the back," he said, pointing to a round disc she hadn't noticed before. It was alight with a strange ethereal glow, streaming up to the heavens. "There's always one in a chamber like this one."
She raised an eyebrow. "But what if you escaped?"
He laughed, shaking his head and muttering about "idiot keatons". Ruuya thought it a valid question.
"Let's go," she said.
They limped onto the pad, and once more, Ruuya tingled and disappeared into the light.