Chapter 72: Dawn of a New Age
The royal dungeons did not disappoint. Each cell was scarcely large enough for a person to lie down, were Gan stuck inside one of them, he'd have to curl into a ball. The air felt heavy on Gan's skin and tasted of sick. Thick wooden doors and stone floors kept all heat out and made it impossible for the prisoners to see the world outside. They must be so alone and miserable. Gan would keep that tradition. The Hylians had a few clever ideas, after all. No one could ever deny them that.
The new Gerudo gaoler led him past rows of locked doors, ignoring the groans and screams from those stuck within them. Gan understood one of those voices would be the prior head guard. He would need to go through the rest and determine who he now held prisoner, and whether they deserved to remain locked away. But that would be a task for another day. Whoever these captives were, they would survive in their cages for another day or two. Now he had only one prisoner to see before his coronation.
His guide stopped, before one door that looked much the same as all the others. But she went through the ring of keys muttering to herself. "Apologies, my king. I'm still not certain which one goes where, yet. I'll get it, I promise."
After a few tries, she found the one that clicked into place and opened the door for him.
Gan ducked into the room. Even after he passed the doorway, he could not stand to his full height without scraping the ceiling. "Bring me a chair, then you will no longer be needed."
"As you wish, my king."
The prisoner sat huddled in the corner, unmoving. His once fine clothes were now disheveled, torn, and stained brown from dried blood. One of those who captured him tore a handful of hairs from that impressive beard of his, leaving it patchy and matted with grime. A bruise discolored his cheek, and a cut ran across his forehead. So battered and still, one could mistake him for dead already. Save those eyes that watched Gan.
"Thank you," Gan said as the Gerudo arrived with a solid-looking wooden chair. He sat down and stretched out before the prisoner, letting the man see just how comfortable he felt. How much control he had. "You know, I've never seen the royal dungeons. I half expected to find myself thrown down here one day. What else would your people do if they ever captured me? To think of all the possible fates of this world, we live in the one where you are the captured, and I hold the keys, the dungeon, the castle, the kingdom."
The prisoner did not respond. The only indication that he heard came from those eyes. Haunted eyes. Drained of just about everything, except sorrow. But still open. Still aware.
"I have to tell you; the largest surprise of this venture was how easy this proved to be. I thought this the greatest gamble of my life. I expected most of my sisters to perish in the attempt. But the Royal Knights were disorganized and unprepared. And the City Guard? Hah! I did not even know they were at half-strength when I rode south. I expected an actual fight. But they rolled over this morning. As soon as they saw me with all my power, they threw their weapons to the ground. I've never seen anyone surrender so quick."
What else could they do before the might of the Triforce?
Still, the prisoner refused to acknowledge him. Worse, his sorrow turned to disinterest. His head rolled back until it rested on the stones, and he closed his eyes.
The disrespect of the man. It was almost admirable.
"It's strange, do you know what I am reminded of on this day? Kakariko of all things. But I suppose that's natural, isn't it? I often think back to that battle, my greatest defeat. My only defeat, more or less. And every time my thoughts dwell on it, I still marvel at its elegance. Your Queen had a quarter my forces, maybe less, and barely any walls to protect herself. Anyone else in the world, I would have crushed. But her? If she were still around, I never would have dared risk the assault. I never would have hatched plans with beasts like Moblins, Dodongo, and Octorok. I probably would have sued for peace years ago."
"If you are asking if I wished I died in place of my wife," the broken man finally spoke. "Of course. Every day for the last ten years."
"She was something special."
"She was."
"It's a shame I have to wipe her line off the face of the earth."
That opened the prisoner's eyes. "No."
"It's the only way to be certain my rule will be unquestioned. Even you must see the necessity of it."
"No," the man crawled forward, his belly scraping on the grime of the floor. "She is just a girl. A child. She can't hurt you."
This was the enemy that took him so long to defeat? This worm? "I thought you were once a knight. A king! Where's your dignity? Where's your self-respect?"
The prisoner did not need to answer for Gan to know. If he ever had any pride in the first place it was lost. For him, it proved a brittle armor that once cracked broke completely. He cowered on the ground, a bowed and pathetic figure. Fear lining his face deeper than the cuts. But there had to be something left, something worthwhile within this man. Or else what was worth celebrating in his defeat? There can be no great victory without a great opponent.
Holding up his hand, Gan summoned his sword. For what little it was worth, the prisoner didn't flinch or try to hide at the sight of it, as some of the broken defeated did. And when Gan dropped it onto the stones before him, he did not jump. He only looked confused. "Go on. Take it."
"You can't be serious."
"Prove to me there is fire left in the royal line of Hyrule. Are you willing to fight for this daughter everyone knows you despise?"
The man touched the black blade. He swallowed, and once more looked up to Ganondorf. And for a moment there was steel behind those eyes. The desire to fight, the call to greatness. He must feel it. The lowest slave could feel mighty when they held such a sword.
But the broken man pushed the blade away. Instead, he reached out and took Ganondorf's hands in his own, pulled them to his mouth, and kissed them. "I cannot fight you, and if I tried, I would never win. My kingdom is yours. My life is yours, do with it whatever you will. It does not matter. But if you have any heart left at all. Spare the last descendant of the Queen you respected. Please."
Gan pulled his hand away. "Is that all? I knew you were worthless as a ruler. But I did not expect you to be craven as well. Where's your courage? Your dignity?"
The wretch didn't fall back in fear. He didn't look away or cower. His eyes weren't the same as those who fled from him or surrendered. Gan had seen the look of a man breaking more times than he could count. These were different, like a soldier holding steady before the horns of charging knights. "What is courage, or dignity when compared to the life of a daughter?"
Gan sneered. "The royal house has fallen low."
With a thought, his sword returned to his hand and Gan struck. He didn't bother rising from the chair to deliver the blow. This fat fool did not deserve it. A single stroke was all it took to sever the life from those eyes.
So ended King Regent Liotidos Beramus Hyrule. A miserable excuse for a king. Trusting when he should have been cautious, meek when he should have been strong, boisterous when he should have been listening. History will remember him as the worst ruler of Hyrule, of that Gan had no doubt. A king who loses their kingdom could be nothing else.
And yet Gan stared at the corpse, as the blood pooled around his feet. In the end, this was all kings were. Just men, like any other. They lived grander, perhaps, and made decisions that decided the fates of nations and all their peoples. But in the end, they died like everyone else. Will this be my fate, one day?
No. It couldn't be. He would not let this become his destiny. Not after he fought through desert and death, traversed through the Doors of Time, and sought out the very gods. He'd bested every challenge that ever confronted him and come out victorious. No one would ever compare his greatness to this... corpse.
Gan stood and left the cell. He made certain to stop by the gaoler. She greeted him with a wide smile that only grew when Gan gave her his command. "Toss the body into a ditch somewhere."
That should have been the end of things. Why waste another heartbeat dwelling on that failure of a king? And yet, hours later, the dead man's eyes still haunted him. They followed him throughout the day.
When he organized the defense of his castle, ordered the captured nobles to be dragged from their rooms to witness his coronation, or spoke to the terrified servants to prepare a feast. It did not matter, whenever he shut his eyes, he saw the hatred of the fallen king.
The horns announced his arrival to his new subjects in his new throne room. Their call was taken up by the Gerudo who gave their wild trills as he entered. What remained of his guard stood on the dais waiting for him. Mayron Rijya and one of the Most-Feared's daughters organized their soldiers around the room, weapons held at the ready should the gathered Hylians attempt anything foolish. All just as he planned.
Except for two twisted old vai who stood before the stairs that led to his throne.
"When did they get here?" Gan muttered.
"Our sweet son," they crowed in unison once he reached them.
"The greatest of warchiefs and mightiest of kings," Kotake said.
"We always knew this day would come." Koume's smile could make a well go dry.
Gan frowned. Had they complimented him? He could not remember them having ever done so before. As he tried to think of a response they raised an elaborate gilded diadem.
"Kneel, our son."
He did and bowed his head for his mothers to remove his headpiece and replace it with his new crown. The cold gold draped across his forehead, and they wove his hair through the complex back ring. Once done they removed the yellow gemstone from his old ornamentation and placed it in the center of his forehead, latching directly into the gold.
"Rise, our true king!"
When he rose, they stepped aside, and Gan looked upon his new subjects. Rijya and her people cheered, but the Hylians gave only a half-hearted effort. The captive boy, Durrell, stood in the front row along with a few battered knights. Stripped of all weapons and armor and forced to witness the culmination of their defeat. He should be happy just to be alive, and yet he refused to applaud until the Gerudo forced him to with threats of further violence. Other such displays of disdain occurred among some of the knights and even those useless nobles. They had done nothing to prevent his ascension, and yet they acted as though refusing to give a cheer was some meaningful revolt.
They did not matter, Gan told himself as he took his new seat. That dark part of his soul howled with joy. His mothers announced his name loud enough for the Goddesses to hear, adding new titles, the Victor of the Battle of Castle Town, the Protector of All Kingdoms, the Bearer of Power. Each epithet more magnificent than the last. And yet the Hylians drew his attention. He saw arranged before him a desert, filled with those who despised him. Their eyes bore into him, filled with the same sorrow and hatred of their old king.
One by one, his soldiers drove the Hylians before his throne and pushed them to their knees. They forced each to give him their fealty. Gan could only watch all their hateful eyes so long before he searched the crowd for those he knew. Those he cared for. Those who cared for him.
He found far fewer than he hoped. At his side stood his only present commander, he gestured for Desquesza to approach. "Any news on Bethe?"
"No change, last I heard. Even after what you did for her. The healers can't tell if that's good or not."
"I'll see to her again once this ceremony is done. We will not lose her." Only one more needed to die, and it would not be Bethmasse. "And where is Nabooru?"
"She and her mother are looking over the dead. I can send for her if you wish."
Gan looked over the procession that remained. So many had not yet taken their turn to grovel before him and offer their oaths. It might take hours to get through them all. "Leave her be. She'd only grow bored."
But it did not feel right that Nabs wasn't there, nor were Bulira, Bethe, Makeela, Caeiti, Mulli, Saevus, Boszura, or Tressa. So many he wished to share this moment with. So many who would never know what came of their sacrifice. Instead, he had his mothers, gloating in his victory, cackling at the heavens.
"It will all be worth it," he whispered to himself, as his reign began.
How sound was a mind after suffering the greatest torments? History showed many mighty warriors and once great rulers went mad after being tortured, wounded, or losing those they loved. Those who suffer the worst of fates can break from reality, hiding from their pain inside delusions. Prince Harald spoke to ghosts and wandered the ruins of Castle Town. Queen Zelda the Third thought she turned to glass and feared breaking apart. When her ancestors fell from sanity, how could she be certain that the same hadn't happened to her?
Zelda held tight around Impa's waist as they rode away from the scouring of her home. They traveled east, judging by the sun, though Zelda knew not where they headed. Perhaps Impa told her when she placed Zelda on the horse her bald companion provided them, but Zelda did not remember. Everything after Rauru cast his spells had turned hazy, as though she had drifted through a nightmare.
Only the golden light had cut through her tears and bore into her mind. But now, she could not see it at all. How sound was her mind?
They passed three buildings before Zelda realized they had entered a village. One close to Castle Town and reasonably prosperous by the look of it. When they reached a stable Impa pulled their mount to a stop, slid from the saddle, and helped Zelda off.
The beast grunted in what Zelda thought sounded like happiness. It had carried them far and fast; it must be exhausted. But it didn't seem fair. Why should a beast be happy on a day like this?
"Stay here and keep your hood up," Impa told her. "I'll see if I can trade this horse for another."
Zelda nodded. When her guardian disappeared into the stable, she wandered around the side, out of sight of those strolling the street or tending to the horses. Once certain no one could see her, she stared at her hand.
Had it truly been there? The golden light, the familiar shape that surrounded her every day of her life; from religious tapestries presenting great moments in the faith of the Three, to every shield that bore her family crest. She knew the Triforce, and it had been on her hand.
Or at least, her mind made her think that it had been. But now? It was just flesh, same as ever. No light, no symbol of power, just a thin weak child's hand. One that could not hold open the entrance to the Sheikah paths, or strong enough to lift someone into them. One that couldn't perform the intricate movements to cast a spell fast enough to save anyone.
She must have been delusional. The Last Gift of the Three, with the power to grant a wish to whoever could obtain it. Somehow, inexplicably coming to her? Going to Link she understood, he entered the Sacred Realm. But her? Why? It didn't make sense unless the Goddesses wanted her to have it.
It could still be with her. Couldn't it? Even if she didn't see it. The power of the Three could be hers. Why not? What did she have left to lose?
Lifting her hand to the skies she mustered all the authority of the royal line of Hyrule into her voice. "I wish for Ganondorf Dragmire to die, I wish for everything that he loves to be taken from him, I wish to watch his desert swallowed by endless sands so nothing will ever grow there."
She held her hand aloft for several moments. Had something happened? How could she know if it did? Her hand didn't glow. The Triforce did not reappear.
"I wish to know if my last wish came true."
The only response was the chirping of birds and the rustling of people going about their day. The Goddesses were silent. She must be delusional. A lantern must have cast some glow across her hand, and her mind twisted it to mean something else. And yet she didn't feel insane. The mark the night before had been so clear. But then the mad believe their delusions, don't they?
She tried a few more times before Impa found her. "What are you doing back here?"
Zelda lowered her hand to her side. "I thought it best to avoid places I might be noticed."
"Perhaps. But you don't want to make it too obvious you're trying not to be seen." Impa took her plane, dull, unadorned hand, and led her to the new horse. She helped Zelda reach the saddle and handed her some meager food, which tasted of nothing. It might well have been the most delicious thing Zelda had ever put in her mouth, but she would not notice. Her mind fixed on her hand and the symbol she knew she saw.
They rode from one village to another. Always east, and continuously trading for new horses when their current became exhausted. They spoke little as they traveled. More brief barks of noise at each other, rather than conversation. "We're near the next village." Impa would announce though it was plain to see. "Take the reins a moment," when she needed to adjust herself. Words that passed between them without any true meaning.
But at night, Impa would cradle Zelda in her arms as though she were still a babe. A gentle warm embrace until Impa fell asleep, though Zelda never did. Deep into the night, she continued her experiments with different words, but always the same wish.
"Blessed Three return my kingdom to me. Blessed Three make Dragmire's own people betray him. Blessed Three grant me the deaths of all who took up arms against my father."
"Sacred Triforce bring ruin to the Gerudo. Sacred Triforce pierce Ganondorf with sword and arrow. Sacred Triforce grant me vengeance."
"Nayru, Farore, and Din, I hold your gift, deliver me justice. Nayru, Farore, and Din, I hold your gift, slay my enemies."
Night after night she chanted, but the mark never returned. All that changed was the growing bags beneath her eyes and the pain in her legs from so long ahorse. Tired, miserable, and sullen she rode as the days blurred into a week, and one week turned into another. She did not count them; she did not care.
Until one afternoon, Impa slowed their horse into a trot still some distance from the nearest village. To the right of the road sat gravestones, hundreds of them or more. How many fresh graves now lay on the outskirts of Castle Town?
"Come princess," Impa said as she held out her hand. "Here we stop."
Zelda took the offered aid and descended from the horse. It did not seem a proper place for a rest. The village was not far away, if they reached it, they may find some food to buy or another horse to trade. Perhaps a roof to sit under for a time. Why a graveyard? But Zelda did not question her, what did it matter when it came to it? None of it mattered anymore.
Impa tied their horse to a tree and led her among the dead. They walked far longer than Zelda would have thought, for such a small-looking village. The natural roll of the lands had disguised just how large the graveyard was. There were fields of the buried. And the gravestones were peculiar, most of them didn't have any mark of any kind. Those few that had names often had only a number etched into them. Rarest of all were the stones that held little phrases, but even those were queer.
Discovered in a lie.
Passing needed reconnaissance.
Working beneath the mirror.
Then they came upon a field of gravestones which all bore names, most also had tallies, notches, and marks. But strangest of all each had the exact same inscription.
In defense of our home.
Over and over, on every stone big or small. As they walked into this group Zelda thought she saw a tear hanging in Impa's eye as she touched one stone and moved to the next. The Needle bowed her head in reverence as she continued, only stopping when she noticed a figure deeper in the graveyard.
The man took note of them and approached. He had pale skin and red eyes, just like Impa. But there the similarities ended. He was massive despite his hunched back and clubbed foot. Completely bald, ancient, and wizened, especially around his protruding jaw. All of him looked misshapen and yet strong, his arms were larger than a smith's and he looked as though he could snap a man in two.
He stopped a few paces away from them, probing eyes looking between Impa and Zelda. Bright eyes, ones Zelda expected noticed everything. "Do not be afraid, child. I know my appearance frightens but I mean you no harm."
"I don't fear you," Zelda said. Nothing about the man seemed mean or foul, except the light stench of sweat and dirt. But after a week or more on horseback, she must have reeked just as foul.
"You wouldn't, would you?" The man took the last few steps toward them and nodded to Impa. "Welcome home, young lady."
"I'm not so young anymore," Impa bowed her head to the man. "Master."
"None of that, now," the hunchback shook his head. "I'm no longer an inquisitor."
"Dampé, then. I hoped I would find you." Impa turned and took Zelda's hand, pulling her closer to the man. "I've brought-"
"I know who you brought, and I know why." The big man frowned down at Zelda. "I'm sorry for your loss, child. I've seen what a Gerudo horde can do. No one should have to witness that."
"Thank you," she muttered, though she did not feel particularly thankful. What did his apologies do? Nothing. And what was he apologizing for? He had not wronged her. Zelda didn't even know who he was beyond being some large, hunched cripple who was once an inquisitor.
Dampé grunted. "I expect you'll want to see her. Come along." He turned and limped back the way he came. Impa's grip on her hand tightened as they followed the old man. He led them to what seemed the very center of the graveyard, to a small hut propped against a hill. Ten paces across from one end to the other, barely long enough for Zelda to live comfortably much less this large man. "Wait here," he ordered as he opened the door and stepped inside.
He did not close the door behind him; letting buzzing flies enter the home and allowing Zelda to peer within. It held only one room, and all of it well used. Clothes and food strewn over the mess of a bed, across the floor piles of metal boxes and winches, springs, and sprockets. All covered in a layer of dirt and grease.
Dampé kicked aside the rubbish before he took a small key hanging beneath the only window. He left the little hut and shut the door behind him, then he grunted for them to follow as he headed back amongst the graves. They did not travel much further. Near the field where the gravestones all bore the same message, passing over a gentle slope before they revealed an enclosed tomb, gated off from the rest of the graveyard with a white-steel fence.
The man unlocked the gate and held it open for Zelda to enter. "Take all the time you need." He said, before shutting the gate behind her, separating her from the grave keeper and her guardian.
Zelda's heart pounded as she headed deeper into the enclosed grave. As tired as she was, she knew what was happening, where she was. The stone path passed brushes and flowers leading to a single monument of a grave. It stood larger than any other, made of white marble bearing the crest of Hyrule. Before it, a single flower grew over the lush green well-cut grass that covered the plot. A small beautiful little thing, she had seen grown in the palace garden. Though in truth, she never paid the fragile white and blue flower much attention before, now the silent princess nearly made her weep.
She knelt before the grave that bore the inscription:
Queen Zelda XIX Hyrule
Who saved us all.
"Mother," she said as she tried to hold back her tears. "I'm sorry," she gasped as her composure broke. She pressed her head against the grass as though that would cover her weeping from the grave. "I tried to be like you." She managed to say between labored breaths. "I did. But I couldn't. I wasn't – and father – and everything. I failed. It's all my fault. If I hadn't told Link to find the stones. If I talked to father. If I had been smarter. I should have done everything different. It's all my fault."
She stopped trying to speak for some time. Letting her grief consume her as she lay before the grave, clutching at the grass, leaving the once well-manicured land a mess. "Why couldn't you have been there?" She moaned when she could finally speak again. "I needed you. All my life I needed you, and you were never there." Another wave of tears and another. How long she cried she could not say. Though the sun began to fall, and a night's chill descended.
She was alone. The last of her family. This was the end of Hyrule.
And it was all her fault.
Not the vile Ganondorf. Not her father. Not the world. Her.
"I only meant to help. I didn't mean to ruin everything you saved. Please, mother. Please." She wiped her face on her sleeves leaving great streaks of tears and mud and grass. "Forgive me. I just need to know, what would you have done? What am I supposed to do?"
Though her mother did not wake, nor did she speak, there was no lightning from the heavens, nor sign along the winds. But on her hand, a golden symbol gleamed.
Link could not move, but he could feel. The searing wound across his chest, the ache in his arm that held the holy sword, and the wet blood in his mouth stuck open in his soundless scream. He could not look away or even blink. He simply stared out where the monster left him.
He had failed, just as the voices warned. His moment – his trial – had come and he wasn't good enough. Just as Mido said, and all his fellow Kokiri knew. He had never been good enough. And now he had lost everything.
If only he could break free. If he could move again. He could make it out, find someone more worthy of the sword. He only needed to break through the shimmering walls and escape. He'd gone through so much. Couldn't he do this? Just this one last task? Then he could let the pain consume him. Then he could just let go. But only after he broke free.
He poured all his focus into his arm. If he could move the sword if he might be able to pierce whatever spell held him. Would that be enough? Just a little. Just a finger's width. Come on. Move. I'll give up anything, everything, just to have it move! But nothing happened. His arm remained frozen, and the sword cut through nothing. So, he tried to beg, plead, scream, and roar at his arm, at the sword, at this cage. Everything! But his mouth never spoke the words. His voice as frozen as the rest of him.
"You did not respect your opponent's strength," the harsh voice reprimanded.
I should have gone to the Triforce.
"You had not the sense to avoid the obvious trap," the regal voice admonished.
I knew what he was doing, and I couldn't stop myself.
"You were not ready." even the voice of merriment and laughter sounded sad.
I'm sorry.
Before his eyes, a golden light shined, blinding him to everything else. From the center of the light came a green glimmer. No. Not a glimmer, a girl. A Kokiri with green hair done up in two buns on top of her head. Around her neck, she wore an acorn as a pendant, and her smile was wide and welcoming as the sunrise. "But perhaps you will be given time. Rest, my constant delight, and dream on these lessons."
Despite the prison, his eyes closed, the pain left him, and he slipped into the dark. And as he slept, he dreamed and, in his dreams, he beheld wonders.
End of Part One
Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope you're enjoying the story. My little retelling has grown quite a bit since I started. My initial plan was for this in total to take no more than about 50-60 chapters to cover the entire game. We all can see that hasn't really gone according to plan. And I cut things to get it down to as few chapters as I have. Including two chapters from Impa's perspective describing what she was doing after she was forced to leave Zelda, and one of King Lio's last dreams before his execution.
Regardless, this project has taken quite a bit more time (and word count) than anticipated. I normally don't want to burden my readers with personal details. I'm here to present a story, but this is relevant to everyone. Since I began, I have attempted to start a new career in a different field. And for the next several months I'll be putting most of my energy into that. What does that mean for this story? Well, it's going to go on hiatus for at least a little while. Give me some time to get my bearings with the new job and allow me to map out the next phase of the story.
That said, I don't plan on leaving it untouched for months. My current goal is to go through the old chapters one by one and edit them during this time, as I find editing less mentally taxing than writing. I think I've improved at least a little bit since I started nearly two years ago, and the chance to spruce up the language, get a firmer grasp on character, remember to actually foreshadow important details, and improve pacing should be helpful.
Before I go, I would like to specifically thank those who have favorited or followed the story: Advanced99, AerthAA, anachronisticroman, Andre Cueva, Animan10, asafaltin2006, avatarange, blindwolf27, Bookworm24680, carbonpancke, Casual Dark, Cstan, CuddlyMakani, Dabodeeda, DancingDaffodil, Demon Shadow5000, Dominus et Devs, Draconic, Drinuk, eacox1787, fernandojpera03, figureitoutmate, Final Saph, For You Blue, Gadgeteer101, gdcintl, GIOJO42069, Heisenbee, Hero McAllen, Honeybee Inn Aeris, huntersaren, JustACrabWithCheese, Knowledgeispower.23, lexierosa29, Lizardon02, LuckKvn, magpie426, MasterZero5, Milan McBride, M. Unknown Identity, Musical Anima, Neo-Devil, Oracle in Vein, R.B. Lynn, Reprisal-of-Shadows, Reyvalnor, ShadyShawn21, Singingtheblues, skylargillilan, Smaugthedragon250, smithjacqueline160, Somaria, Super Smash Bros 62, Symphonian Abyss, Tahkaullus01, The Sewer Rat, Tiger2014, VIIDSins, VincentFS, WallCat, way2dumb2live, WhereIcannotbecrucified, whitewhale63, XxNeo-ChanxX, YLFanatic94, YoshiChara, and Zolias
And an additional thanks for those who took the time to write a review. Positive or negative, they all help me improve: YLFanatic94, James Birdsong, WallCat, Kansashome87, LuckKvn, Animan10, VincentFS, Casual Dark, Maverikdark, Wow, Random Reader, Draconic, AerthAA, figureitoutmate, and probably around two or three people who are just known as Guest.
It really does mean a lot just knowing people are following and entertained.
Well, that's it for now. Feel free to write a review or send me a message if you have anything specific you want to see improved in the second half, or mistakes that really need to be cleaned up in my edit. And I hope the wait for more chapters isn't too long for anyone.
And once again, thanks everyone who read this far.
Update:Part Two has begun.