Tumgik
#it would have made so much more sense to focus on hyrule in the present day. work with the npcs to make hyrule greater than it was
tigergendermoved · 7 months
Text
I'm ngl the longer it's been since I've played TOTK the less I like it I think
#do not get me wrong i think the game is fun to play and that was like 80% of where my concern lied#but godddd the story sucks so bad. i love the draconification bit with zelda but the rest. augh#why do we need Another ancient civilization literally appearing out of nowhere and infesting hyrule with its ruins#they got rid of all the sheikah stuff with literally no explanation to shove the zonai into the region#but why are we even focusing on the ancient civilizations again????#it would have made so much more sense to focus on hyrule in the present day. work with the npcs to make hyrule greater than it was#move on from the calamity and turn hyrule into a strong bustling country#the zonai were hinted at in botw but they feel so shoehorned in because they have nothing to do with anything in botw#i dont care about the secret stones we had champion abilities#i dont care about the sages the champion descendants had the champions to look up to#i dont care about rauru and sonia because sonia got fridged hard and rauru's character is flat. pleasant but flat#and i dont care at all about ganondorf because the most interesting thing he ever does is do the gmod face#its so frustrating watching the same 'woah secret stones! sages??' cutscene 4 times with Da New Sages and its so frustrating#watching the other characters speculate what happened to zelda and chase down her ghostly paper trail#when like. i can see her in the sky. she's over there guys#the memories were one of my favorite things in botw bc they all subtly stitched together the story of what happened#in totk they are incredibly plot dense and very linear and very confusing to watch out of order. which is easy to do#the one where sonia gets murked is like. the third memory i found#id at least be more interested in all the zonai stuff if link was the one to get teleported to the past while zelda has to try and save him#giving zelda agency. craziest thing they could have done#ok sorry this is a Lot of salt but just. raaaaagh#maybe my expectations were astronomical but outside of gameplay totk brings nothing good to the table imo#i'd significantly rather they made botw2 more gameplay focused where you can do something like make meaningful changes to the map#tarrey town style#than try to shove a whole different zelda game's plot into a carefully constructed preexisting world#i think the zonai story would be cool in its own game but not botw
6 notes · View notes
waywardsalt · 1 year
Text
my grievances with botw
Breath of the Wild is... undeniably a fantastic game, but it is very genuinely not the kind of game I like, and since I started playing it I’ve been enjoying it less and less so... I have a pair of problems with it that I’d figure I’d go into, as well as some stuff that, while weak in botw, were executed better in past loz games.
(small shoutout to @zeldanamikaze for encouraging this and having some points that i agree with and had some examples that i hadn’t thought about much initially)
Again, Breath of the Wild is an objectively impressive game, and I’m not trying to sit here and convince you that it’s a bad game. I’m just trying to point out things that detracted from my enjoyment of it, especially compared to my enjoyment of other Zelda games.
Before I get into the big stuff, I’ll just shoot off some quick little things that I think could’ve been improved:
- The dungeons generally felt like glorified shrines, and while they had cool mechanics and ways to access them, they were short and more or less pretty simple and all have similar visual and musical identities.
- Side quests and their rewards didn’t feel worth doing half of the time. I barely remember any notable ones off the top of my head and the longer ones just gave mostly generic rewards, which I suppose makes sense considering the limited amount of truly unique items in botw.
- Seeing the same enemies over and over again made the combat feel more like a chore than something to really engage with, not to mention that there is hardly any difficulty scaling beyond just making the enemies more durable.
- The story is fine, but in my experience, even seeing people go into more detail about the meanings of events, I never really cared for the events or the characters presented, since you don’t actually have to directly interact with any of that to play the game. Hell, you don’t even need to interact with the story at all to beat it, so the focus certainly doesn’t feel like it’s on the story.
- It would be a lie to call the soundtrack bad, but it’s sparse usage makes it hard to truly appreciate and the fact that most of it is meant to be more atmospheric generally makes them a bit less interesting to listen to on their own, though I will admit there are some fantastic tracks in botw, usually being some of the boss themes.
- While the Sheikah slate runes are cool, they feel very bland after a while, especially compared to the varied items seen in previous games. They’re good tools for an open world, but not much fun otherwise (the bombs were good though, since they had a variety of uses).
And that’s the quick stuff- again, mostly courtesy of @zeldanamikaze, since these are the examples I’ve seen her mention.
I have two big points that kind of encapsulate why I dislike this game and still adore the older games, that being: the minigames and the items and their relationships to dungeons.
Breath of the Wild is a very different game than what came past it, and I am very aware that it is a vast departure from those other games for a reason. However, this leads me to view it not only simply as a game not up my alley, but also as kind of inferior in some aspect to those previous Zelda games. Breath of the World is first and foremost an open world game, seemingly putting a focus on gameplay enjoyment above all else (not to imply that the ‘else’ is bad because of this, but I do think that the ‘else’ suffers in comparison to other Zelda titles.)
It may also be worth mentioning that the other Zelda games I have played is the following: LoZ NES, Link’s Awakening (Original and Remake), Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Phantom Hourlgass, Skyward Sword, A Link Between Worlds, and Triforce Heroes. I have also played both hyrule warriors games as well as loz 2, wind waker, and minish cap, none of the latter 3 i have finished or currently have access to.
1: The Minigames
Minigames are common in Zelda games, so of course botw has a few scattered around it’s world. Botw’s minigames are very different than the minigames seen in past Zelda games, mostly due in part to the limited array of items and unique gameplay gimmicks available in botw. Botw’s minigames usually focus on different forms of archery, gliding, or rune usage: all things integral to normal gameplay. At best you get rupees or cosmetic items from most minigames.
Botw’s minigames are just slightly altered situations of normal gameplay. The bowling is just using stasis except this time the game has a special little arena for it. Pretty much all of the archery games are either just counting how many deer you can kill or if you can just hit some targets on horseback. There’s one race I can think of and one gliding activity I can think of.
This makes sense, considering that there are a handful of other non-minigame activities to engage in, but these minigames feel... hollow. None of the minigames feature gameplay exclusive to those minigames or feature gameplay only used in certain parts of the game. They all make use of readily available mechanics in botw, so they’re like tests of skill- but otherwise not really any worth giving a second-thought unless you want to see how good of a glider or archer you are or grab some extra rupees.
But they aren’t very... worth it or generally fun within the context of botw. It’s just another way to do something that is available to you pretty much all game. They don’t feel unique, they just feel like a task.
Previous Zelda games (obviously) have archery minigames and allow you to use archery when you get the bow and from that point onward. And yet the archery minigames are made unique from the rest of the archery in the game; ocarina of time’s archery minigame is simply just shooting at targets, but the possible rewards and the simple fact that not often are you going to be continuously shooting arrows at enemies make it a bit of a novel experience within oot. The minigames in past zelda games take advantage of the items and area-specific mechanics: they usually include item-exclusive mechanics like bombchu games, or take advantage of more specific mechanics, like the minecarts in skyward sword, the masks in majora’s mask, or being able to control gongoron in phantom hourglass.
They also gave genuine rewards- empty bottles, quest items, ship parts, new masks, heart containers or pieces, kinds of stuff that are hard to get and very valuable. They’re worth doing for reasons outside of just a little activity. The minigames in other Zelda games do really enhance the experience by taking advantage of situational mechanics or giving a unique usage for some items.
You can probably get every item in botw without playing all of the minigames. They have little actual purpose. But in other zelda games, they have a purpose in the greater game and provide novel experiences within the game.
2: Items and their relationships with the dungeons
Obviously, compared to past games, botw’s ‘dungeons’ kind of sucked. They’re fine in a vacuum, with interesting gimmicks and the like, but they’re really little more than glorified shrines with four different-but-similar bosses at the end.
In my opinion, one of reasons why the divine beasts just... fell flat compared to other zelda dungeons is the lack of unique items in general. The runes in botw are cool and useful but you get them at the start of the game and never get anything new. You are give every tool you need to beat all of the dungeons the moment you finish the tutorial.
Older zelda games’ dungeons being tied to their respective items is a big part- to me- of what makes those dungeons so good.
Obviously, the theming, musical themes, and larger layouts and more varied puzzles make them objectively better experiences, but the way they interact with item acquisition makes the whole thing even better. 
Even in a link between worlds, where you can get every item whenever you want from Ravio, each dungeon is still tied to one of those items, and one of those items is needed to successfully complete that dungeon.
The dungeons in past Zelda games are practically complex tutorials on how you can use your new items. They are where those items shine and they are designed so that those items are used to their fullest potential within. And then you must then use that item to defeat that dungeon’s boss, and you usually have no chance of beating that boss if you don’t make use of the dungeon’s associated item. It’s like a final test for the item, seeing if you know how it works enough to complete the dungeon and use it against a boss’s weaknesses.
The most recent example, and probably one of the best, is needing to use the whip to tear off koloktos’ arms in the ancient cistern, but the classic scenario of the bombs for king dodongo works well enough, and the bosses of majora’s mask requiring you to understand how the transformation masks work. There are definitely some bosses that require no use of dungeon items (moldorm in the tower of hera, either ghirahim fights), but the item’s usage is still showcased prominently in their dungeons.
Outside of the dungeons, too, the progressive acquisition of items makes more areas and secrets available to you, giving a much more palpable sense of progression through those games’ worlds.
In botw, you get every tool the moment you are released into the rest of hyrule, so while figuring out what to do with those tools can be fun, the sense of progression is dampened by having every item from the start and nothing you gain beyond that being needed for anything aside from a nice little ability to make things easier.
I’m not really too sure exactly why I never found botw fun the way everyone else does, but I think lackluster minigames and the general lack of items that aid a sense of progression are parts of it.
#loz#legend of zelda#botw#salty talks#i feel like im swinging at a hornets nest by suggesting that this game isn't perfect#cuz everywhere you look this game is praised incessantly while its like. i think its fine at best tbh#because it's really not to my tastes#i highly prefer the experience that the other loz games provide and botw dropped off for me while i still enjoy those games#like. open world games arent really my thing and a game packed to the gills with just as much shit as possible is a major turn off for me#this was going to have three points but playing totk exhausted me mentally and i dont really care any more. i dont find these games fun#the tutorial islands felt tedious after a bit and like. idk. good game but i have yet to find myself actually having fun with it#it kinda feels like its fun in concept but the fact that it doesnt necessarily feel got to play to me and progress is slow and based on#like. slow exploration? its fine but its not something i actually enjoy. its not teh difficulty bc i like elden ring and hades n stuff#like. i have more fun with ph than totk. idk. playing totk was like. entertaining? but it kinda ust felt hollow to me#granted i just like. unlocked the first tower and did some shrines but like. idk. good game. i don't think i actually like it too much#i really think these two points kind of maybe explain why these games just fail to click with me#things in older zelda games have specific purposes and can be more situational than pretty much anything in botw/totk so far#it feels. better. to find an item that fits a specific purpose in older loz games. they're more gimmicky.#i feel that open world games (similar to botw/totk) are dragged down by the sheer freedom they allow to me at least#there's too much to do and you're allowed to do whatever so it all feels kind of. standard theres not much purpose to it#the tedium of botw/totk is much more grating than the tedium i experience in skyward sword's lanayru desert#because you HAVE to go through and figure out lanayru desert to continue the story get new items find new dungeons#botw/totk you kinda just get some items and maybe a lackluster quest or some fucking environment thing#long post#idk. im not too far into totk while writing this but rn in a weird way it and botw feel empty to me in a way i cant express#i enjoyed botw at first but after beating it and all it just felt kinda boring and unsatisfying to replay
19 notes · View notes
Note
Rav, please answer the following, no exceptions
3, 5 for Hues of Magic (anything about the series is fair game), 11, 17, 30, and 42, I have no regrets
holy hylia you really aren't granting me any mercy jfkdjdjf FINE.
These got way too long to not put under a read more though, so here it is.
3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?
Hmmm. Introspection, definitely, but idk if it counts as a trope per se. I have recently been told that my very intentional efforts to always give all the boys at least one moment in the spotlight, no matter how small, are noticeable, though! So that, probably. I'm also very partial to likening a traumatic event to the present happenings.
5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!
You chose Hues of Magic! And hmm. I guess I'm always itching to elaborate on which specific glows mean what from Hyrule's pov, where they are from, and what the distinctive qualities between different types of auras and enchantments are, because I do think about those a lot! In Something Focused I basically went on a long diatribe over how I perceive Wars' magic to work, and if asked I could probably do that for most of them! But not every oneshot is meant to become a lecture like that one, so I won't lol
11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is?
This is unfair and you know it. I'm absolutely partial. Are you kidding? I grew up playing OoT/MM and TP -the Hero of Time might be my favourite character in all of fiction. I still play OoT on an almost weekly basis, in randomizer. And I have singlehandedly dragged people down into Warriors hell with me.
That said, like I mentioned earlier. I always, always make sure to involve the rest of the boys in the background (when it makes sense), instead of letting them fade into it. I'm really big on knowing what every present character does, so I lead by example!
17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?
I will cheat and put SSAU (Swapped Species AU, an AU where none of the boys are Hylian, but rather another race in accordance with their games) in here. Because while I'm not the only person enjoying it by a long shot, it was a huge team effort to create as much content for it as there is now. But I did put a ton of focus on everything around Guardian of Time!Wars and his relationship with Mask/Time and First. And I still get that giddy self-indlugant feeling whenever I think about or reread parts of it. So I'd say it counts!
30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?
I have! It was Whistle, actually, haha. When I started to write it the style was the complete opposite of what my default was. It was an amazing exercise and influenced how my style evolved into what it is now.
If we're talking more about topical comfort zones - I definitely find it harder to write pure fluff, just because the string of narrative is different compared to angsty stories - there is no big climactic event, no comfort at the end to resolve it. But I chose to write some rather fluffy fics for LUAAP 2021, and while I couldn't resist putting in a little angst in the middle parts, I think I succeeded! And enjoyed myself, too.
42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?
I'm gonna cheat here, because this isn't a single comment, but a theme that went through a comment section. I made up an old mage with his own shop for Something Darker, to fill a role I needed for the plot to kick off. I gave him a couple quirks, little mage things I thought were fitting, as you do with a side character, and didn't think much of it compared to the rest of the fic.
Imagine my surprise when almost every single comment latched onto this guy! People were thinking about his biases and reaction, there were interested in his backstory, someone wrote an epilogue from his perspective in a comment (yes this is a link to that). Safe to say that is gonna stay with me. It was such an amazing thing for people to take this small detail in my writing and latch onto it more than I ever could've expected!
Phew. you better know I'm gonna flood you the same next time fhdkhejdjf
2 notes · View notes
minty-mumbles · 3 years
Text
Foundlings
Summary: What if the Links weren't born? What if they just... appeared one day?
Author's Note: This was inspired by some asks on @tortilla-of-courage's blog
(Read it on Ao3 Here)
~~~
Everyone on Skyloft had a profound bond with their loftwing. Everyone. They would trust their birds with their life, and more significantly, the lives of their children, if they had any. It wasn’t a rare sight to see your neighbor’s loftwing watching after their child, or to see a loftwing carrying a wayward child back home.
And, although Skyloft is a small island, not everyone knows each other.
So they can’t be blamed, really, that they didn't notice right away that all the loftwings on the island were playing hot potato with a small child.
They only really started to notice when the headmaster of the Knight’s academy found his loftwing looking after not just his own daughter, but a young boy as well.
Before he could question it, or pick up the boy, another loftwing swooped in, snatching the boy up by the back of his tunic. The toddler didn’t seem to mind, squealing in excitement as the bird took him up to the roof.
Gaepora still might not have thought anything about it, except that he knew for a fact that that loftwing’s rider had died a year ago. That’s why the bird was here. It was still mourning its partner, and it was better for it to be around other loftwings. The communal nests for the loftwings at the academy were perfect for that.
And, as far as he knew, the loftwing hadn’t picked a new rider. So whose child was that?
~
After a good two or three weeks of searching for the child’s parents and simultaneously trying to get the boy away from the loftwings, they were still empty-handed.
The search for the parents was futile. Nearly everyone on the island knew about the boy now, and most had even seen their own loftwings carrying the boy around. No parent had stepped forward.
On the other hand, no one could actually manage to get the kid away from the loftwings. It was rare for the birds to completely disobey their riders, but in this, they seemed resolute. The boy would be staying with the loftwings, at least for now.
Gaepora pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at his daughter, who was currently giggling with the yet unmanned boy on his own loftwings back. This boy was going to be nothing but trouble, he could already feel it.
~~~
The master smith of Castle town wasn’t a slouch at hand-to-hand combat. He had never been formally trained in the subject. But he was a smith. Being a smithy was very physically taxing. He may be getting on a bit in years, but he could still swing a hammer and withstand the blazing heat of the forge.
So when he entered his shop in the morning and heard rustling behind the counter he kept his lockbox behind, he did not run to call the town guards. They wouldn’t even get here in time, and Smith could deal with the thief by himself.
When he rounded the corner of the counter with a shout, what he found was not what he expected. Instead, he found a little kid. Really, he couldn't be more than two or three. Instead of the lock box, he had been rooting around in a jar of cookies that Smith kept in the shop for the rather common occasion he got the munchies in the middle of the day.
The child was watching him with wide eyes, his gaze not wavering. He had far too much of an intelligent gaze for a two year old who had literally gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Smith looked around, foolishly hoping that the child’s mother would pop out from behind one of the shelves to claim the him.
No such luck, of course. Cursing his bleeding heart, Smith picked up the child and, hanging a sign on the door to tell his customers he was closed for the day, made his way home.
~~~
The Great Deku Tree was very old. He liked to take naps, which sometimes ended up lasting months. And he forgot things sometimes.
But he was pretty sure he wasn't actually asleep for more than a few hours this time. And he was sure he would have remembered this.
There was a child laying between his roots. An infant, wrapped in swaddling clothes, nestled in a bed of fallen leaves.
The Tree didn’t recognize him.
He would know if this was a Kokiri child. It was not. This child was as Hylian as they came. And yet, somehow, he had ended up here. Deep in the lost woods, where no adult could reach. At the very least, the fairies or the Kokiris would have woken him if there had been an intruder.
The Tree took his time examining the child, looking for any clues to his origins. He found none.
After a while, the baby started to fuss. The Deku Tree hummed, calling for a fairy to go fetch Saria. She was a responsible young lass. She would make sure the boy was well looked after.
He stayed contemplating the child long after he had been taken away by the Kokiri. That child would be one to make note of.
~~~
They were calling him the Hero of the Wind, now. She had smiled when she heard that, but to her, he would always be Link. She gave him that name, after all. She had named him after the previous hero when she found him. There had been no mother in sight to give her a different name, after all.
She hadn’t known where the baby had come from. When she had gone on an early morning walk one day, it had led to her finding a woven basket with a wailing infant inside it, washed up on the shore.
No one on Outset Island had a child this young, or was even pregnant. But Hylia would be damned if she left the babe there. Besides, she was lonely. Her husband had died a few years back, and her daughter had left Outset, rarely visiting. She wouldn’t mind someone to share her house with.
There were rumors. Of course there were. Outset island was a calm and peaceful place, but that didn’t mean all the people there were kind. Suddenly acquiring a child out of nowhere was suspicious. People called her a witch behind her back, not so subtly accusing her of stealing the child.
She had claimed that her daughter had come back from sailing to give Link to his grandmother, but no one had actually seen the young woman do so, so there were always skeptics.
And there was indeed a good reason that no one had seen her come back. It was because the woman hadn’t. No one but Granny would ever know the truth of it, she had vowed to herself.
But, eventually, the excitement died down. Link was a sweet boy. And, well, he had his Granny’s nose, after all, and his mother’s bright golden hair.
(And a few years after that, when she found Aryll on her front porch, surrounded by seagulls, people said much the same about the little girl.)
~~~
The Hero of Legend had humble beginnings, just like most of his brethren. Before he had started his journeys, he had grown up on a farm, looked after by his uncle. In truth, though, said uncle had no relation to him at all.
The nearby village thought he was just an orphan.
It wasn’t unusual. Families were torn apart often these days, sometimes literally, meeting brutal ends at the hands of monsters. Many times, this left children to wander, with no one to care for them. Sometimes, families would take them in and care for them like they were their own.
It was a bit odd that Link's Uncle would do so, as he had no wife to help him in raising a child. But after all, he had no wife, and never showed any signs of looking for one. Perhaps he wanted someone to look after him as he grew older, or just someone to share his house with. It must get lonely, all by himself in that huge farm, so far from town.
In truth, he couldn’t have done anything else, except take the kid in. He had been sucked in by the big eyes set into the sweet face the first time he set eyes on the boy.
The boy never made any mention of his previous family. But, thought his uncle, that was probably normal. Whatever happened to him before he found his way here couldn’t have been pleasant.
It was probably normal not to want to speak of it. And besides, there were apples that needed to be picked, animals to be fed, grain to be cut. There would be time for talking later. For now, he would focus on teaching Link the proper way to hold a cucco without being mauled.
~~~
Legend had it that the Hero of Hyrule started his adventure in a cave. What the Legends don’t tell is that he also started his life in that cave.
In his era, monsters roamed nearly everywhere. There were a few exceptions. One of these was a small cave. It was hidden deep in a forest, and generally ignored by all who passed it. Most who saw it assumed it was too small to be a proper shelter for anyone.
It was this assumption that made it the perfect spot for its inhabitants to hide. A group of fairies had stumbled across the cave, and claimed it for their own. It was undisturbed by the bigger creatures of the world, and it was the perfect size for them.
It was deep in this cave, soaked in fae magic, that this group of fairies found a tiny child. Or more accurately, he found them. When he wiggled through the crack of the cave opening and saw them, he giggled, clapping his hands.
They were uncertain at first. What was a young hylian doing out here? It shouldn't be possible. Where had he even come from? He couldn’t have made it all the way out here by himself.
Being naturally helpful creatures, they tried to search for the small one’s parents, but came up empty-handed. All the while, the child played with the strands of magic they conjured to entertain him.
Fairies have a poor sense of time. They just kept searching for the child’s parents. They fed him when he was hungry, and sang him to sleep when he was tired. They didn’t even notice that the child was growing up.
~~~
Wolves are not a common animal to see in Ordon. Generally, they preferred to stay away from the village.
There were exceptions. If there was a harsh winter, wolf packs might approach the village, looking for the easy meals the goats presented. If a wolf was sick, they might wander closer in confusion as well.
So when Uli looked out the window, and saw a large golden wolf in the middle of the goat pen, she was understandably shocked. The wolf looked healthy. Its fur coat was glossy, and even from this distance, Uli could see muscles rippled under its coat when it moved. There was no sickness in this creature. It was the height of summer. The game in the forest should be plentiful. There was no real reason for it to go after her goats.
Looking closer, she could see that the wolf was standing over something, likely one of her goats. She cursed, gripping the bow from the mantle that they kept for situations just like this, and exited the house.
When the wolf saw that he was being approached, he calmly turned away. Moving at a quick pace, he left behind the prize he was guarding, and returned to the edge of the forest. When he reached the forest, he turned to look back at her. With what looked disturbingly like a nod, he disappeared into the woods.
After watching for a few moments to make sure the wolf wouldn’t return, Uli turned to inspect the damage to the herd.
Instead of finding a dead goat, she found a small bundle of blankets. Filled with curiosity, she knelt, moving the blankets aside cautiously. What she found was the last thing she thought she would.
A toddler, curled up and sleeping peacefully, as if they hadn’t just been two feet away from a wolf.
Well. What was she to do with this, then?
~~~
There is no record of the Hero of Warriors from before the War. Most people from his era assume that it’s because he came from a little town in the middle of nowhere. A farm boy, a nobody who crawled up the ranks to become a war hero, a captain.
In reality, the Hero of Warriors was a rather special case. He was made for war. He was a savior of his people, just like his brethren, but a child does not a warrior make. And a warrior is what was needed.
He strode into Hyrule castle, among the swarm of other young men who were reporting to the recruiters in the front hall. In the chaos, the one who greeted him neglected to ask where the young man was from, and Link did not offer the information.
From that point on, he was only called Link, with no surname on his record. Eventually, that became Commander Link, and then Captain Link.
No one ever questioned where he had come from. It was usually best not to think about those things too hard.
~~~
There was no one alive who remembered the Hero of the Wild’s origins. That was to be expected. It had been well over a century since he was born, after all.
The hero himself could not remember, and all those who had known him from before barely knew about his family.
The story of his birth was lost, or so it seemed.
The truth was that there was no story to be told. The hero’s family had been a small one. A knight who served in Hyrule’s military, his wife, and a little daughter. When the daughter had been born, the wife had nearly died. The doctor had warned them that another child would likely kill her.
So, though they dearly wanted a son to carry on their family’s name, and for his father to train him the way of the sword, they were content with their little girl.
Fate had other plans for them, though. One morning when the daughter was about a year old, they had just sat down for breakfast when there was a knock on the door.
The knight stood to answer the door. When he opened it, he did not find one of their neighbors, or a messenger from the castle, as he had expected, but a young boy, maybe five or six years old.
When asked what he needed, he simply said that he was their son.
He waltzed right in and plopped himself down at the table, pleased as punch with himself.
The knight and his wife looked at each other in amusement. This might as well happen. They could afford to feed an extra mouth for a meal or two. They could go look for the little one’s parents after they ate.
409 notes · View notes
botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years
Note
Soooooo Revali and Link would be really cute together. Revali might be able to help Link overcome his anxieties and Link's support might help Revali with his insecurities. A very lovely couple bc they are interesting characters foils. Lovely ship.
You know it’s been a while since I’ve gone off the rails about how perfect Revalink is and in an effort to maintain some semblance of quality and sanity on this blog I’ll try not to to scream incoherently but yes you’re absolutely right they are perfect. Ok that’s it moving on. Nothing else to see here folks
OK so there’s this writing technique called “facade breaking” that is basically the principle that you have two characters who foil each other, but in ways that they both become better people because of each other. A character’s facade, or sometimes just called “the lie,” is the mindset or idea that they cling too that makes them who they are at the start of the story. It’s the image of themselves they want to keep that initially makes them hesitant or resistant to change. The breaking down of that lie/facade in order to reveal the “truth” or reality is what a character arc is. If you want a quick example of this, you can look at King Rhoam in Age of Calamity. 
The facade of his character is that he doesn’t have time to be caring for his daughter because he needs to keep up appearances and focus on the Calamity. There isn’t time to coddle Zelda or let her be her own person, it’s just all about her powers. That facade starts to wear down over the course of the story, there’s cracks in it whenever Zelda and Terrako are together, and especially when he is alone, given solemn looks for the audience to see. However, the existence of a facade in the first place means that characters are resistant to the truth, and therefore resistant to change. The story has not yet put Rhoam through enough struggle to get him to change his viewpoint, which is why even until the day of Calamity, he is still insistent in his strict ways. The facade is only completely broken down during the moment of highest tragedy, which in a three act structure is usally the mid-point, in our case, the day of Calamity. When facades are broken and characters are faced with the truth--in our case, Rhoam sees that his abrasive and almost emotionally abusive actions towards his daughter were for nothing and he regrets not focusing more on loving and caring for his daughter because that was really all that mattered--that is the point in their arc where they actively change. Thus, for the rest of the story as Rhoam reunites with Zelda and lets her lead the reclamation of Hyrule, he supports her as his daughter more openly, and by the end of the game that aspect of his character is changed for the better. 
Ok got all that? So the thing with Revalink is that they are both foils, AND facade breakers for each other. [A foil is just a character that is opposite another to highlight each other’s characteristics. They don’t necessarily bring out the best in each other or be an inciter in their character arc. A good example might be Bojack and Mr. Peanutbutter if you watch Bojack Horseman. They’re characters that foil each other, but they don’t both break each other’s facades. A lot of the work for Mr. Peanutbutter’s case is done by his actions and the events around him.] Like we saw with King Rhoam, the things that break a character’s facade doesn’t necessarily need to be people, BUT for the purposes of romance, it is much more interesting if they are. 
The reason why enemies to lovers and foil characters are so often shipped is because you can already “sense” that potential for facade breaking in those characters. You can see how, when pitted against each other, or otherwise, they can improve the other. 
But the thing is for relationships like Revalink, a character being a facade breaker doesn’t stop at just, being the character that breaks their facade. That is a different trope, like one you might see in Twilight or some Mary Sue fanfic--the perfect girl or whatever meets the badboy and the girl “fixes” the badboy and they kiss. That is not inherently bad, but it is the construction of one character at the cost of another’s. And that’s what makes Revalink so great, because you can clearly see that [in fanon, I should mention] shipping them still maintains the contruct of their character, that their flaws can still exist, and that their character arcs don’t necessarily clash to make room for only one, but instead intertwine and weave like two waveforms. 
I’m not saying that it’s impossible for ships like Sidlink to have a “mutual facade breaker” format, but I will argue that Revalink is the best example of it. Link’s flaws is Revali’s strength. Revali’s mindset opposes Link’s. Revali’s facade is opposite and in direct conflict with Link’s. One believes that they don’t need anyone but themselves, and failure is only a consequence of them not being/trying enough. The other sees isolation as a burden, but takes it up anyhow because destiny says that only one hero can save the world. One hides truth and insecurity with a veil of arrogance and witty remarks, the other does it in complete silence. If you put these two characters together it is physically impossible for them to not break each other’s facade. It is literally impossible for them to not change each other in some aspect.   
Interesting romance isn’t just about seeing how characters like each other and get together. I mean yes, Coffeeshop AUs and the like are all well and fun don’t get me wrong. But some of the most interesting relationships that get you really invested are the ones where characters break facades, where you can actively see and compare a character’s past and present and see how they have changed for the better. The art of breaking facades gives so much potential for conflict and tenderness alike. And when the story’s arching towards it ends, and Revali and Link are together, you can look at the writing and the process that led them there and come to a very earned conclusion that yes, “they were made for each other.” 
214 notes · View notes
kyoupann · 3 years
Note
Please do more of the writing head canons. It’s really interesting to see other people’s ideas on the topic, so if you can be bothered, I would highly appreciate more, thanks bye <3
Y’all don’t know how happy I am to talk about these headcanons, they are my babies and I love them so much :’) thanks for asking g <3
Handwriting Headcanons
Same dynamic as before, try to guess whose handwriting it is before reading and tell me how many you got right! <3
Tumblr media
You can find the first post here (no need to check it tho)
Quick disclaimer: halfway through making my initial notes, I remembered I had one (1) single lesson of graphology in my applied linguistics class, but that was a year ago and some information might be off. I just thought it was neat to include.
Another quick disclaimer: I don’t know much about Hylian, but I like to think it has a similar stroke system to Japanese, so the pressure and accuracy of your strokes play a major role in your handwriting (among other things, ofc.) so there are some parts where I focus more on that
(First Row, from left to right)
Sky
Our first boy is mother hen! Believe it or not, he has the prettiest handwriting out of all of them! Sky: probably has nice, even elegant handwriting because Sun forced him to practice when they were little. In the end, that paid off because his handwriting is the prettiest one. There’s no pressure, but he is confident in what he writes that his lines aren’t thin. Mistakes? what is that? this boy has impeccable grammar and spelling. No mechanic errors to be found in his letters! I’d like to think that many of Hyrule’s classic/staple poems were originally written by the firt king aka sky child. Like, imagine, after a retiring from being a Person of Power (as the first ruler), Sky finds comfort in the arts: revisits his old woodcarvings and starts writing poetry about the world he still doesn’t fully understand. wowie. tldr: sky writes poetry and you can pry it from my cold dead hands.
This is what one of his letters would look like: 
Tumblr media
Next one is the one and only, our Hero of Time
2. Time
I’ll die on the “Time didn’t know how to read and write” hill. His handwriting is simple, not pretty but not messy. It has some grammar and spelling mistakes here and there. Can become unreadable if writing in a hurry, he sorts of forgets spaces between words are a thing/letters have different sizes and lowercase letters end up the same size as capital letters. I’m not saying he sometimes forgets to write articles: he just doesn’t want to. Honestly, he just has this dad-neat handwriting. He is a gentle dad and writes like a dad, if he puts too much pressure onto the paper, his handwriting become too sharp/angle-ish and ends up looking ugly. And as much as he would like to not care about it, in the end he does (:
Malon taught him how to write and it was quite the experience. At first he didn’t want to because he was ‘too old’ to learn and it was torture at first, but now look at him devouring his cowboy novels. 
A chunk of his handwriting: 
Tumblr media
*sniff* such a dad quote.
3. my mansss, your  4x1 deal at Target: Four
Look, my boy is patient! He could do some nice and fancy lettering if he wanted to. He was taught that handwriting and spelling said a whole lot about him as a person, you know, like a first impression kinda thing; so he always proof reads more than twice before sending ­a letter. Super rare grammar mistakes.
The faster he writes, the more slant his writing becomes. Under stress/ when not sure how to write things down, run-on sentences are everywhere and his handwriting is inconsistent in general (I don’t headcanon each part of him having completely different handwriting because handwriting becomes muscle memory over time. It’s just slightly different variations of the same, like idk  Vio’s handwriting is neater than Green’s and Red writes hearts instead of any dot/circle and no, I do not take constructive criticism on that, jk i do.) Adding on to each of the colours’ handwriting, I’d think Red and Green write with words slanted to the right( inclined), Vio is a mix of the opposite, so reclined and straight, and my mans blue a true neutral writes straight (kinda like Time’s).
The logic behind this is that inclined writing supposedly means honesty and need for giving (and getting) affection; reclined means, as you can probably imagine,  defensiveness and repression of true feelings, but also shows great concentration; straight handwriting means self-control, observation and reflection as well as distrust and indifference. But as complete being (tm), Four just writes as in the image example which is not too straight and not too inclined, and I believe that’s a good middle for him
HOWEVER, if I’m feeling in the mood for crack, I totally accept this boy to have the ugliest, chicken scratches-looking handwriting! :’D It’s just funny to think that someone like him, who has to be precise and careful in his work, can't write neatly to save his life. 
One of his letters would look like this: 
Tumblr media
Also I just LOVE how his hero titles look in this font ksksks
Tumblr media
and that’s
(Middle row, from left to right)
4.- Mister Bunny Boy - Legend
His uncle taught him how to write. I’d call his handwriting pretty and neat at a first glance, but he presses too hard on the paper, most of the time staining the back or the following page. Sometimes will retrace some words if he doesn’t like how it looks (which only makes it messier). According to my notes, a thick or strong handwriting represents determination/commitment.
As I also headcanon him to know many languages, mechanical errors are more present than grammar ones; that is, weird capitalisation of words. Punctuation is somewhere in between; uses too many commas when he should just cut the sentence. he mixes punctuation from two languages or more in writing when too distracted (or too focused, because, well, pressure.); when he writes for himself, he has almost no problem following said language’s punctuation rules. Also, this is just polyglot culture, and I’m projecting a bit, but when he forgets a word in the language he’s writing, he just replaces it with its equivalent in another language because we don’t care about fluency, but rather functionality. in this household (more on that in my language hc, ksksks).
An example of his writing:
Tumblr media
so powerful
4.-  Mr. Wolfman, howl me a song - Twilight
I don’t have much for him because 1) I don’t think he writes a lot and 2) he is a hands-on/visual learner, I’ll die by that. He only learnt how to write because Ulli insisted it was important and he was not about to disrespect his momma; he IS That Guy, but doesn’t really write enough to have neat handwriting.
Many people seem to overlook the fact that his house is filled with books and write him as completely illiterate (which if not explored properly, ends up feeling a bit disrespectful and full of prejudice, but go off I guess; and that’s on my core Headcanons for Twi); however, he sticks to simple sentences. Knowing how to read and understanding a text is different from knowing how to write them. Like, when we would see a semicolon and understand its position in the text, but didn’t understand the nature of it. Is this clear? idk i’m sorry. So yeah, boy reads a lot, writes very little.
As for his Actual Handwriting, as opposed to Legend, his handwriting is thiccc but not because he presses into the paper; he is just that messy, he has no sense of ink-flow-control, he does what he can with what he has. To the untrained eye, his handwriting illegible letters like v, n, u are very similar; when he makes notes for himself he does it in the form of doodles or small ‘icons’. But! He reads a lot, so he rarely makes spelling mistakes (: he is your go-to guy when you don’t know how to write a word.
An example of his writing:
Tumblr media
He keeps a journal, sue me.
3. My first born- Warrior
Okay, first off... I accept this is completely biased. I saw the idea and said “That’s True”. If you haven’t, please read Effective Communication; or The Lack of Thereof by htruona, a fic where the boys reflect on the language barriers between them. It’s incredibly funny and probably what made me start making these silly notes. So, if you’ve read that fic, you know where I’m going.
My man, Warrior, can’t fucking write. I mean, he physically can, but it’s very bad. Here’s the reason for it, tho, and it’s not his fault: Technically, he knew how to write alright but he joined the military and whatever note he had to write had to be concise or in the worst case coded. He mixes capital and lowercase letters. If we consider that he joined the military at around 15, his handwriting and grammar had yet to continue developing. Just think about how after summer break, your handwriting was always slightly worse than before because you didn’t write for an entire month. Now think what 2 years can do to that. Hmm, not cool, dude. He makes quick notes, when writing he’s all gotta go fast. he is the lighting mcqueen of writing; good for emergency messages, not ideal for love letters. His punctuation also suffered a lot, he only know full stops and commas and hardly uses them. A sentence for him is either one word or fifty without a single comma, no inbetween.
His hero title and an example of his writing.
Tumblr media
(Bottom row, or what I like to call “fuck cursive” row)
7.- Magic man - Hyrule
I’m basic and I do agree with the popular headcanon of he not knowing how to write because well, y’all know his Hyrule. He only knows how to write his name because that’s important, same with numbers. I don’t see why would he write/read except checking the roadsigns. (he can even use this as an excuse for getting lost frequently; he thought it said something different.) But I do think that because his habitual reading consists of roadsigns, his ‘punctuation’ is weird af and places full stops/points/periods at the same level of his words and his commas/question/exclamation marks below them. Yk, creative license. Sadly, I don’t have much about my magic hands man so here’s what his writing would look like if he actually wrote a paragraph:
Tumblr media
Man, I love Hyrule.
8.- Man, I don’t understand this boy -  Wild
Cursive? ain’t nobody have the time for that. He woke up and had to save the world in his underwear while not knowing how to read nor write.  He learnt during his journey and was taught by multiple people from different regions, that explains his inconsistent spelling of things and names for them. So Wild knows language variations for many items and uses them interchangeably (even if they aren’t exactly the same). Another headcanon related to writing/language skills that I’ve been thinking about is that if the shrine was able to cause amnesia, I’m sure there were other areas in the brain affected which leads us to language disorders such as agraphia and aphasia. But that’s a story for another day ksksksk
An example of his writing (after relearning)
Tumblr media
9.- The best of sons - Wind
I don’t have much for him and that makes me sad. Look, he’s a kid, doing kid things like stabbing dudes on the head. This boy was taught cursive by his grandma, but could never do it and no one needs it anyway. His handwriting is good enough for his pirate life, Tetra is the one to handle Official stuff, he just gotta sign. Spelling and grammar mistakes abound. He is still relatively young and can correct his handwriting if he desires. But same as Wild, with how many times he’s been thrown out and hit his head, I’m starting to consider some language disorder for him as well.
An example of his writing:
Tumblr media
aaand that’s it.
Thanks, y’all for showing interest in this silly thing uwu it was fun to finally talk about this. If you ever want to discuss ideas/headcanons(especially if they are related to language and culture), I’m your person (: I’m always happy to hear new headcanons. Feel free to add anything to this post either in a reply or in a reblog, I’d love to hear from y’all <3<3
145 notes · View notes
quillandink333 · 3 years
Text
Scarlet Carnations ~ Part VII
BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU
Tumblr media
Rating: T
Word Count: 4k
WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm
Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.
Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist
Tumblr media
It took me far too long to recover from the discovery I’d made deep beneath the foundation of the Sheikah estate. Who knew how many more had been forced to suffer at the hands of the Yiga over the course of that period? It was high time to end this era of tyranny and grief, and to have anyone but myself take the lead was not an option. Whatever truth was waiting for me at the end of all this, so be it. I had to see it with my own two eyes. I had to see her.
To help set my plan into motion, the only person I had left to turn to was Prosecutor Sigatur, and though she had once held my mother in the utmost respect, she had benevolently volunteered to present my findings to the courts in my stead. As confident as I was in my argument and as desperately as I desired to be there for Link, I couldn’t quite stomach the thought of taking the stand and exposing myself to the discrimination of the public eye again.
And so, as the proceedings went on for the following few days, I spent my time back at the apartment, making myself useful by poring through my mountainous collection of data on the eighteen-year-old incident that I’d amassed over the years and had been keeping in my office until now. Now that I had been let go, my flat was practically overflowing with newspaper clippings, copies of investigation reports, and whatever else not. Every time I would open the door upon arriving home, I’d get hit in the face with the musty stench of dust and old magazines that I had nowhere to properly put away.
Though my collection was indeed vast, it was far more so in physical volume than in information. Most of the documents in it were no more than different accounts of the same basic facts. All the useful info I could glean was that the fire at City Hall had taken the lives of most, if not all, administrative officials who had been there working at the time, and those members of council who may or may not have been killed had never been seen nor heard from again, their bodies left for ash. And according to my sources, Mayor Hyrule had been amongst them.
There was a certain line in her letter to Auntie Impa that had tipped me off to her current whereabouts. “...I have been keeping watch over you from the ashes of the afterlife...” The imagery laced so intricately into those words had struck a nerve. There was only one place in this town that both would’ve been of any significance to her and was covered in ash: the crumbling ruins where the former City Hall had once stood.
Having reached the point of culmination in my plotting, I invited the newly reinstated Constable Fyori over for tea. The two of us meeting in my office would have been preferable, but we’d just have to make do with this for the time being.
“If my hypothesis is correct, then I am about to enter the belly of the beast,” I deliberated. Seated on my settee and restlessly tapping the floor with his heel, Link listened with both eyes and ears as I paced about the room. “Ideally, I’d have some sort of backup at my disposal. Maybe I could phone Urbosa and ask her to lend me a hand, just once more...”
“If I may,” he butted in, “why are you speaking as though you’ll be on your own?”
I hadn’t been nearly as prepared as I probably should have been for such a question. “Well...” I stammered, forcing the shame of admitting that I was too afraid to confront my own mother alone down my throat, “would you happen to know someone who’d be willing to accompany me?”
His mouth gaped at my answer. Then jutting his neck out and laying his palms across his chest, he stood up. “Me!”
I took a step back. “Link, what are you talking about?” If something happened to him as a result of this, which was more likely to occur than not, then his last moments would surely be filled with nothing but fear and regret. Not to mention, I would never forgive myself. “I really shouldn’t have to remind you. She’s the reason your family—”
“I know,” he snapped. His eyes were burning a hole straight through me. It was almost frightening. “Believe me, I’m not about to go forgetting it again any time soon.”
“Then why...?” I half-whispered in the most deathly serious tone I could muster.
“Because I’m tired of hiding.”
A harsh breeze rattled the blinds against the window frame. It took me by surprise, but he wasn’t phased by it in the least.
“I’m tired of turning a blind eye and acting like none of the horrible things she’s done ever happened.” I tried to think of a snappy rebuttal, but none came to mind. He’d said these words as though they’d been burning on the tip of his tongue for an untold number of days. He’d had a lot of time to reflect between his false conviction and his acquittal, so it seemed. He and I were of the same mind, of course, but... “And, because...” He stopped himself. Some of the fire in his gaze had gone out in smoke. I got my hopes up when he broke eye contact for a moment or two, and I could all but sense the resolve in him dying, just a little bit.
But then, emitting a slight sound of frustration, he stepped closer. His hands gripped my shoulders, and he pulled me in with the force of a hurricane.
When his lips made impact with mine, my eyes flew open.
He kissed me with what could only be described as reckless abandon. His mouth scraped across my own, and I could feel every ounce of his aggravation in the way his fingertips bit down on my skin alone. It was rough and clumsy and pressed, as if this were sincerely the last and only chance he would ever have.
All of a sudden, we were seventeen again, and standing in the middle of our secondary school’s greenhouse. The scent of dust was replaced with that of lush flora on all sides of us, and sunlight shining in from above caressed the top of my head with its warmth. This was the very scene that I’d used to daydream about time and time again, wasting more hours of each day than I’d have liked to admit at the time.
Now his fingers clung to the corners of my face like I was made of paper, his lips brushing mine almost imperceptibly as his bated breath fanned out against them. When my eyes opened and met with his, his complexion had turned a delicate rouge, and his faultless aquamarines had been clouded over by doubt. In that moment, all I could think to do was to make that doubt vanish. So I ignored the distant sense of guilt that yet lingered and seized the navy blue tie around his neck. Our forms collided, and a sigh like trees swaying at the mercy of a light breeze in summer grazed my cheek.
Tumblr media
With Ms. Sigatur’s aid, the constabulary had been more than willing to cooperate and construct a perimeter of officers around the old City Hall’s charred skeleton. Just the fact that the vicinity wasn’t littered in tarps and rubbish and other evidence of homelessness was proof enough of my theory. And yet, the way the wind howled and that the only signs of life were the crows circling up above filled the pit of my stomach with an unease that I could not ignore.
“You know what to do as soon as you sense any sign of danger, I trust?” Urbosa had both her hands planted firmly on my shoulders, bending down to meet my gaze with that same, old look of worry.
I gave a firm nod, never breaking eye contact. “Of course.”
“And you have Fyori and the others looking out for you, so don’t be afraid to call for them if—”
“I’ll be fine, Urbosa. I—”
“No, you will not.”
All I wanted was to get this over with, but she just had to go and remind me of the risks. No matter what I wished for, it wouldn’t change the fact that this was, in all likelihood, a suicide mission. Which was why I’d been so adamant in refusing to allow Link to come along initially.
Said constable was watching the two of us out of the corner of his eye, ever the vigilante as he stood facing the stronghold a mere half dozen paces away.
I heaved a constricted sigh and looked the prosecutor earnestly in the eye. With a deep breath, “I understand how worried you are for me, but please, don’t try to stop me. I’m aware of the risk and I’m prepared to face the consequences. I wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t confident in my ability to succeed.”
Her stance softened, if only just slightly. “If Hilda weren’t still alive, her spirit would haunt me for letting any harm come to you.”
“But that won’t happen, because she is alive and she would never try to hurt me.” This much I was certain of, for if she had harboured any such intentions, she would have acted on them already, with how the Organization typically operated.
Urbosa’s lips tightened, and the out of place worry lines permeating her expression faded incrementally. She cast her gaze toward my stubborn guardian in silence, and he offered her a calm, yet resolute, nod of the head.
After a quiet embrace that seemed to go on endlessly, she sent me on my way. I looked over my shoulder as she grew smaller and smaller, then turned my focus ahead of me.
Staring up at the towering columns before me, I fell into an unnatural combination of wonder, nostalgia, and loss. (For whom or what was I still mourning? At this point, I didn’t even know the answer to that.) For the most part, the only parts of the building left standing were those invulnerable to fire, and even a great portion of that had fallen victim to weathering and decay over the years. Many of the brick walls had crumbled, leaving little in the way of places to hide a single person, let alone an entire crime syndicate.
The wind was unrelenting as it whipped and thrashed my hair about my face. Yet somehow, even as we drew nearer, the air remained as deathly still as ever.
As we finally came upon the scorched remnants of the main entrance, a gust from the north sent a whirlwind of ash in my direction. My arms rose to shield my face in the nick of time.
After taking a moment to collect myself, I took my first step since childhood into the domain of my mother’s workplace. Surely when I crossed that threshold, I’d thought, surely that was when havoc would finally be wrought upon us. But I was met yet again with stillness. Was nothing but my own breathing able to break this seemingly impenetrable silence?
Just then, my question was answered.
I felt my soul jump out of the confines of my body when the caw of a crow reverberated throughout the government building. If my heart hadn’t been pounding hard enough already...
I jumped again seconds later, though not nearly to the extent at which I just had, when Link’s hand came to weave itself between my fingers. We locked eyes, and he gave me the kindest of smiles. It made me want to melt right into his arms and to never let go, lest I lose him a third, and very likely final, time.
But a clearing of the throat from one of the other nearby constables reminded me of the ever present need to stay alert.
I elected to have the group split into two: one to search the ground floor of the ruins and one to search the upper floor. It was hard to say for certain how stable they were, but the stairways connecting the two stories were still almost fully intact. The upper floor itself, however, was another matter. Though its foundation hadn’t been constructed from any organic material, much of its structural integrity seemed to have been lost. About a third of it had broken off and landed square in the middle of the ground floor, leaving a vast chasm between the two sections of the upper floor that remained. The police had come prepared and equipped for the traversal of rough and uneven terrain, though there was still the danger of stray pieces of rubble raining down onto our heads from above.
I adjusted the strap of my helmet, which was beginning to chafe at the skin underneath my chin, before making my way around the monstrous hunk of brick flooring lying along the length of the grand foyer. Beyond that, as I’d remembered correctly, was the hallway leading to where her office had once been. But the scene I would discover there was a far cry from what I recalled.
What I found there wasn’t unlike what we’d found in the other offices up until now. Any furniture that had once filled the space had been destroyed. I could only just make out the contorted pieces of an old, blackened writing desk, its legs collapsed and the only thing relaying the tale of its former shape being the lamp lying shattered beside it. This I’d only noticed after hearing the crackling of shattered glass underfoot.
A clipped, nasal exhale sounded from behind me, where Link was taking in the scene with an expression similar to my own set into his face. He’d been clinging to my side since we’d begun searching, whether out of a desire to protect or to be protected, I did not know. A question rang in my ears that he’d posed to me during our meeting at my flat. “What will you do once you find her?” It was a simple question, one that I reasonably should have been able to answer, but the only one that came to mind would have sounded beyond foolish if said aloud. In the midst of such an era of power, what crime boss in their right mind would be swayed by a meagre plea to stop? But if not try to reason with her, there wouldn’t be many other options at my disposal.
This supposition only applied given that my mother would be found. My inspections so far had yielded no signs of Yiga activity, or for that matter, any activity whatsoever. Everything here seemed to have been here since the very incident that had levelled the place. In a way, this only added onto my already existing restlessness. The longer this search went on in vain, the less likely we were to find anything of worth, and the more likely it was for this endeavour to end in yet another failure. The moment I would finally give into my fear and call off the mission was steadily approaching.
A shadow flickered in my peripheral vision, followed by auditory pandemonium.
I just barely withheld my yelp. Link had turned toward the source of the sound with his hand on his holster.
But it had only been a piece of debris coming down from the floor above. I sighed furtively.
Between how Link’s shoulders had tensed up to meet his ears and the way his hand twitched as he lowered it from his hip, it was plain to see that I wasn’t the only one who was shaken up.
There was one more area of the ground floor that I had left to search: the conference hall. If the Yiga were anywhere to be found across these vast burial grounds, it was there.
What was left of the wood flooring creaked underfoot at a much greater volume than I’d been expecting. The ceiling, though just as high as that of the rest of this floor, somehow felt even loftier. Out of all the rooms we’d visited, this one was the most intact. Half of the risers, though scorched, were otherwise undamaged, and even the podium was still standing tall. But of course, being more intact meant giving sharpshooters more places to hide. One misstep and—
Crack
The floor fell out from beneath me. I let out a shriek, feeling the realm of death open its big, black maw and swallow me whole.
Then I landed with a calamitus crash.
If I hadn’t managed to curl my limbs around myself in time, the concrete flooring I seemed to have landed on surely would’ve cracked my head open, or given me a severe concussion at the very least. My whole body ached from the impact, and it felt as though I may have sprained my ankle, for when I tried to stand, it throbbed in the most violent pain I had ever experienced. I fell to my hands and knees, reeling.
The spot in the floor that I’d placed my weight on must have lost much of its hardiness to the fire. In all the times I’d been here as a little girl, it had never once occurred to me that this place had housed a basement.
“Zelda...!”
I looked up to see Link peering down from the hole in the ceiling that I’d made, his expression poised with worry. My body, covered in scrapes and bruises, cringed when I realized he had borne witness to that pathetic spectacle, making the pain tenfold.
“I’m fine,” I whisper-shouted up toward the only source of light in the room, and some of the fear in his face relaxed. He glanced around him, then looked back down in my direction before standing up and disappearing.
I could only hope he’d find his way down sooner rather than later. In the meantime, I shifted into a position I hoped I’d have more luck rising back to standing from, and I did. Though, maimed as I was, I’d still have to find some way to take some of the weight off my right foot.
The first thing I latched onto was rusty and sharp. I winced and pulled my hand back, looking blindly to see if my palm was bleeding or not.
As my eyes adjusted, I was relieved to see that the cut had only just grazed the surface of my skin. I scanned the room, seeing that the thing I’d touched was a piece of an old oil drum. In fact, the room was full of metal scraps resembling it.
A vision flashed before my eyes. Of City Hall being engulfed in flame within seconds, and the criminal mastermind hiding the evidence in a cellar, where no one would ever find it until the better part of two decades later.
The rest of the basement was still a cluttered mess, but somehow it felt a great deal more lived-in than what I’d seen up until this point. There wasn’t a soul to be found in any of the windowless rooms I came across, but the few things I found lying around with the help of my pocket torch, like an unopened pack of cigarettes and a deck of cards left strewn across a small table, gave me the distinct impression that I wasn’t alone. The numerous corners provided by old, metal bookshelves and file cabinets did little to slow my racing heart.
Eventually, I came upon an open doorway, beside which a small sign on the wall read, “Archive A.” Beyond the barrier, unlike the pitch darkness I’d been wandering through for I’d long lost count of just how long, a few threads of light were trickling in from above, presumably through a crack in the flooring above that I’d failed to notice before.
I stepped through the doorway, turned to face the yawning expanse of the former archive, and saw her. Dressed in pale white and standing radiantly in the center of the room.
My mother. The very image of my ever vivid memory of her was right there.
My feet carried me, with newfound purpose and with minds of their own, toward her. I wanted to reach out and feel her next to me. I wanted to ascertain that she was truly there and that I hadn’t actually hit my head and wasn’t now seeing things. I wanted to run at her, arms outstretched, more than anything in the world.
But then my ankle throbbed violently in protest, and my reason for being here came back to me at full force. I swallowed down my longing and stopped in my tracks. Her smile—that warm, glowing, congratulatory smile that held all the hope and light of the sun within its corners—wasn’t making this any less difficult, however. I was reminded of the simpler times, when at the end of each day, there was someone back at home waiting to hold me close and make all my worries melt away.
She held her arms out to me in a gesture that made my eyes well up with the tears of a child. It felt unspeakably wrong, but for what reason I could no longer place. Why shouldn’t I? What harm could it possibly do? It was only natural to want to wrap my arms around her as tightly as I was able, and to never let go again, wasn’t it?
A gunshot ripped through the peace.
Her face turned still as stone. Square between her harmless eyes had appeared an inky black-red orifice—an exit wound—from which a spray of crimson had decorated her visage.
Time slowed almost to a stop as Mother careened forward and fell flat onto the cold, hard floor. A hollow thump echoed throughout the empty space.
Before I’d had time to react, I looked up and met eyes with a painfully familiar pair of icy azures, which thawed in an instant as the owner lowered his weapon. I glanced down at the body, which had landed just two or three paces in front of me, then back at him. Then my own body started to shake.
No matter how I tried, I couldn’t control the violent tremors that had taken hold of me. My knees hit the floor, my bad ankle being wrenched one way in the process. This tore a scream from the depths of my lungs as the tears began waterfalling down in spiteful defiance against my will. I couldn’t bare to look at her—lithe arms strewn out limply at her sides and golden hair scattered in every direction—so I hid like the coward I was behind my stinging palms.
A metallic clack, followed by footsteps pounding the cement one after another as they neared. When his arms cradled my head into the shelter of his chest, I didn’t stop him. Nor did I when his hand began its gentle stroking up and down the curve of my back. He could have said something, anything, but he refrained. Instead, the silence surrounding my cries did nothing but amplify them.
A resounding clatter broke the air.
My vision was fogged up like a window pane in the dead of winter, but as I blinked away the tears, I began to make out the shape of an assault rifle lying on the concrete, at the feet of a person who hadn’t been there before and whose face I was unable to make out from this distance. In the figure’s hand was a bone-white mask, which they turned over in their grasp before dropping it onto the floor as well. It shattered upon landing.
In every corner, assassins were emerging from the shadows, each one of them laying down their weapons and turning to face the cooling corpse resting at the axis point of it all. Somehow, the room seemed even more devoid of daylight than ever before.
14 notes · View notes
Text
Our Nightly Confidant 7
Send your prayers to the Sky
With a vast array of different quests and experiences, it was no surprise that between the nine of them, the Links could cover most essential skills. For example, if you needed a tactician, look no further than Warriors. If you had to solve some puzzles, Legend had seen them all. If you got stuck out at sea (a very unfortunate experience for Twilight, who discovered that day his lack of sea legs), Wind would be happy to talk your ears off about sailing.
But if one needs a partner for a one-on-one fight, then Sky is the hero you'll need.
For proof, look no further than the deformed lizard and giant eye corpses they've left behind them. After the third such ambush in a day, one might decide to change their tactics. Those monsters, untouched by whatever corruption is plaguing their current quests, don't. They simply come in waves and waves, as unthinking as they are exhausting.
Twilight, wiping his brows, hears a faint chime, though he can't identify its origins.
Sky's face changes. From relieved to worried, brows drawn together and his eyes scanning the horizon for one sign or another.
“What is it?”
“Fi, the spirit of the Master Sword... she advises us to find shelter for the night. She says there are high probabilities that monsters lurk nearby.”
No shit, Twilight thinks. Ever since the portal spat them out away from the rest of the group, the two of them have been fighting constantly to make any sort of progress. He regrets not having told Sky his secret earlier. They might have gotten a better deal if Wolfie had detected the attacks early or led them back to the others.
“Can she tell where the portals threw our companions?”
Again, the chime rings, and the Master Sword almost seems to pulse in sync with it.
“She senses the existence of a few other sacred weapons, but they're too far away for her to tell me more.”
Twilight glares at the red sun lowering itself over the hills. “We'll try and find them tomorrow then. No time to lose. I think I saw some house westward before the ambush.”
                                                   ***
It wasn't a town.
Broken houses lay here and there across some rock hard dirt road. Shutters hang limply from open windows. Tombstones litter one corner of the hidden vale, most broken or too weathered by elements for the epitaphs to remain. There are hints of small gardens behind collapsed walls of stone. Upturned soil in little rows. Both of them know the traces left by harvesting.
It's no town anymore. There's not a soul left.
The sign, somehow, had survived whatever cataclysm had struck here. For all the good it did. Sky can't read it, and Twilight... it looks vaguely familiar, he said. Not enough to hazard a guess about it.
Sky resolves to ask Hyrule about it. He's aware it's probably a futile and maybe even cruel thing to do, but... he has to. He isn't certain yet, why the idea weighs so much on his mind. A nameless town, a place that should have been home to dozens, maybe hundreds of Hylians, gone and forgotten.
His mind turns back to the first time he mentioned Skyloft to the other heroes. The way his heart squeezed when he realized that none of them had ever heard of it, that the closest he ever got to news of his hometown was a nomadic tribe of sky people from Four and, after an apologetic grimace from Twilight, a ruined city in the sky.
For so long, Sky had lived with the notion of Skyloft being the only town in the world. The essence of the world of Hylians, distilled and preserved by the kindness of Hylia. His adventures on the surface had stripped him of the notion, but not the tenderness and longing he felt for his home above the clouds. How could he, when half his soul is bonded to a sacred bird?
Hyrule should not be a kingdom of ghost towns and miles spread graveyards. That sight alone had brought tears to his eyes. Nothing had ever made him doubt his and Zelda's dream of founding Hyrule together before that.
“Sky!” rings Twilight's cry, and he wastes no time, spinning with Fi in hand.
He slices the air in a flawless, textbook motion, and the strange red keese fell in two distinct halves before disintegrating.
Twilight rushes to him, placing a grounding palm on top of his shoulder. “You okay, Sky? That thing was diving straight at you.”
He fights the growing weight of the Master Sword in his grip. The out-of-body feeling. His chest pangs with pulses of heat, with a loathing turned inward. He shouldn't be a burden this way. Not on top of everything else.
But he can't find the words in front of Twilight's earnest worry. “I, sorry, I guess I was too out of it. Thanks for the warning.”
He gets a pat on the back, strong enough to be a bit startling. “Don't give me a fright like that. Leave it to the Champion.”
Sky chuckles softly. “I'm not usurping his role, I promise. I can't take this much roughhousing.”
The smirk on Twilight's face looks terribly smug. He gives Sky another pat, then marches on through the deserted street. “We'll need to be rested for tomorrow. Best we wake up at first light to get as much time as possible to link up with the others.”
Sky nods, even though the idea of closing his eyes makes him nauseous.
You dreamed of a new kingdom, Zelda. I'm sorry I ruined it before we even started.
                                                      ***
The dog's barking chased him through the ruins. The others are gone. He can't remember- no, he doesn't want to remember. It's too painful.
“Lucky you,” Legend's voice rings behind the crumbled remains of some statue. There's no one there. “Must be nice to have a choice.”
“That wasn't-” he tries to say, but the barking swallows his words. They are close. So close.
For all his Courage, he knows he stands no chance. He can't even lift his sword. Fi looked at him and, coldly, without ever speaking louder than a dull monotone, told him he was no longer fit to wield her. There was a zero percent chance he would ever prove his worthiness again.
He has to step over the bodies. So young. Too young. One's missing an eye, an accusation forever etched into the blank gaze. His apologies are sobbed. He knows. He knows. They tell him to stay. To die. To atone.
But somehow, he stumbles forward up the steps to the Temple of Time. He knows that the place is safe. That it must be. It's the only thing that keeps him going.
The doors slam right behind him. And he breathes out a sigh of relief, walking into the moonlit shadow of Hylia's statue. Despite everything, the pain, the grief, the despair, he musters a smile for the benevolent face looking over him. “Thank you, Hylia.”
“Hylia? Who's that?” Wind asked, scouting closer. “Some woman you know?”
“The Goddess Hylia? Protector of Hyrule and the Triforce?”
The doors rattle. Again. The barking is muffled.
“Never heard of her,” Wind said. “All that's left of Hyrule lies beneath the Great Sea. Why didn't you stab Demise in the head? That's what I did. They can't speak with a sword in their brain, you stupid scallywag.”
Sky reached out, but his little brother was suddenly too far, miles away, and he couldn't run fast enough to catch up. He never could. Always one step behind. Always too slow for when it matters. Even when it came to killing his enemy. He doesn't save, he just deals with the clean-up.
Or leaves it to his descendants and reincarnations.
The doors are threatening to come off their hinges. At every hit, he sees the gap between them widen a little more. He sees glimpses of fangs. Of blue eyes staring. Of drool splattering when dark muzzles try to push through.
“I had so many hopes for you.”
He bolts upright, a strangled scream on his lips, Fi raised to strike.
For a moment, Sky doesn't move. His mind is slow to catch up. It notices the darkness first. The faint flicker of the near dead fire they lit up earlier. The soft, weakened planks under him.
There is no temple. No goddess. No-, wait, there is a wolf.
Sky blinks a few times, hands rubbing at his eyes. Right. The ghost town. Him and Twilight. He... where is his brother?
“Why are you...?” Sky starts, before letting out a sigh. Does that truly matter? “Say, Wolfie, how do you keep finding us?”
The wolf grunts, his ears folded back on top of his head. He proceeds to take a step backward.
Sky's sigh is gentle, soft. The same way he ran his fingers through the fur on Wolfie's head, behind his ears. He doesn't want to spook his friend.
“I know you can't exactly tell me the answer to that,” Sky says, his smile idle as his gaze goes back to the shutters. “It's okay if I make up a way, isn't it? I won't tell the others even if I get it right.”
Wistful. That's the emotion inside him. He needs to feel it, he believes. After that nightmare. After... not the memory, but something close to it. What he knows might happen.
His fellow heroes have all suffered so many hardships. He wouldn't blame them if they turned their anger at him. (He'd deserved it.)
A quick lick of a rough tongue brings Sky back to the present, and he forces himself to focus.
“You're no ordinary animal. That mark on your forehead, those soulful blue eyes...” Familiar. A reflection of what he's seen in the others. Heroic. “Hylia sent you.”
The grumble isn't loud enough to be threatening. It's actually more in line with the noise Legend makes in the morning or when Warriors is rejected in a tavern.
“A sacred beast to guide us heroes on our journey.”
The screams of his nightmare ring back through his memories. The accusations. The hate on the face of his brothers.
His smile starts to slide off.
“An envoy, to help lessen the aftermaths of my mistake... maybe...” he chokes out.
The sacred beast – he knows in his heart – lets out a quiet whine, and buries his muzzle against Sky's shoulder. Sky's arms latch onto Wolfie's fur as if it were a loftwing's reins. He is in freefall.
“Wolfie... I know I'm supposed to be a Hero of Courage, but... how do I tell them?” The corner of his eyes burn. Wolfie's face blurs, then clears when Sky blinks. “They've all overcome such odds, so many trials, and they... they wouldn't have had to, if I hadn't failed.”
The way he expects Wolfie to react ranges from a betrayed yip, to a silent embrace to even a sudden mauling.
A flat look wasn't one of them. It oozes skepticism and Sky's emotional outburst sputters like he had been making a stormcloud out of a nimbus. Do... do wolves really do that? That wasn't what he had in mind talking about how this wolf friend is special.
“I... ”
“Woof?” Wolfie woofs, annoyed.
“On my journey, I faced off against Demise, the demon god. A cruel being imprisoned for millennia before his subordinates managed to free him. I... I fought him. I dove through a portal and brandished the Master Sword and killed him. But... with his dying words, he cursed me. Us. The ones with the Hero's Spirit and the blood of the Goddess. There would always be an incarnation of his hatred to destroy everything they sought to build.” – The growl is steadily growing in intensity. – “I should have stopped him. It's me. My fault, Wolfie.”
That's when the shutters on the window rattle.
Sky is on his feet, sword drawn, even faster than Wolfie is. That, he later realized, is the problem. Fi might have brushed against his friend's fur. Not with the edge, never, but he had not thought the flat of the blade might have been a cause of concern. A blessed weapon wouldn't harm a sacred beast, right?
Shadows swallow Wolfie, who lets out a startled yelp, before out of the cocoon of darkness emerges a scowling Hylian.
“Twilight?!” he gasps, a whisper-shout that feels like his chest would explode. Twilight is Wolfie. Oh, Hylia, Twilight is Wolfie. He... he told...
This can't be real. His head spins. Oh Hylia. He needs to brace himself. To stand. (To run.)
The shutters swing open.
“Goshess darn it,” Twilight spits.
He makes a grab for something under his armor – what, Sky couldn't see – and the shadows return, swiftly giving his brother the form of the companion beast that they assumed was stalking their progress throughout the eras.
Wolfie (Twilight) barks at the open window, and the darkness of the night. The flutter of a moonless breeze.
Sky, despite the past few months having just turned on their heads, is alert enough to keep his focus on the threat at hands. What probably helped destroy the town. Those lost Hylians deserve some vengeance. It's too little, but he has to give them that.
There is nothing there.
But Twilight lunges, his fangs glinting in the hearth's light before he latches on something. Sky can only watch in horror as Wolfie-Twilight-brother hangs and scrambles against an invisible enemy, snarling, scratching, biting. He hears the inhuman shriek right as Twilight drops back on the ground, blood splattered over his fur and a fading purple light in his mouth.
Sky waits in tense silence, knuckles tight over the handles of his sword and shield. Beads of sweat roll on his cheeks, his heart hammering.
He doesn't react when Twilight stops and sniffs the air. Doesn't, when the change happens.
Twilight, ever practical, crosses the meager main room in a few strides and forces the shutter shut. Then lift a broken table leg and use it to ram the whole thing locked, or as good as it got in these circumstances.
When he is done, Twilight does not turn back right away. He lingers about the window, his shoulders tense and the wolf pelt (how had they not made the connection?) ripples in the low light when he lets out a defeated sigh.
“I shifted the first time because I thought I'd heard something, and my senses are much sharper as a wolf. I... I didn't mean...”
To trick you, Sky completes the thought. And it's unfair, cruel, but – despite his failure – he still thinks it (like he has the right to).
“You heard. About how I cursed the lineage.”
“I heard that you killed a demon god for what he threatened to do to your world, to your Zelda.”
“Twilight... I'm sorry,” Sky pleads, his throat hoarse. “I'm sorry! I know it'll never weigh enough for what my failure did to you and the others, but I'm so, so sorry, Twilight. If I hadn't... if I had just... Demise would have never had the chance to curse Hyrule.”
“And yet, with that 'chance', he went about it in the worst possible way. I know he predates the Triforce an' all, but that guy sure was no champion of Nayru.”
Sky's self-loathing melts into a slosh of confusion. “I... I don't...”
Twilight, strangely, is not winding up a punch or a kick or even a swipe of his sword. He's walking up to him. Sliding next to him, and, with an arm around his shoulder, getting them both sitting by the hearth.
“Think about it,” Twilight replies with a small smirk. “Coulda forced his reincarnation at any point he wanted, but he went 'fuck it' and made sure that there would always be a Champion of Courage and a Princess of Goddess' Blood around at the same time it showed up.”
Sky... considers. Tries to recall the wording. The exact thing, but he's forgotten half the words. He's spent one too many nights trying not to remember for his memories to cooperate now. He just knows what he felt then, the doubt and horror at war within. How many people might suffer if the curse was real? Had he truly earned his title, his love back, if it had come at the cost of the future?
And if he only knew of Hyrule's broken kingdom, the answer would be easy then.
“What was he like? That Demise guy? Did he give you the speech?”
Sky huffs. “Does trash talking count?”
Twilight's eyebrow game is quite on point there, wagging so fluidly. “Does it ever?”
“He thought me unworthy. Destined to die in a realm of water and storm. He promised the destruction of everything I hold dear, once my corpse lied at his feet.”
“Big talker,” Twilight deadpans. “No wonder he got so pissy about his defeat. Must have been humiliating.”
To his amazement, Sky bites down on a laugh. Demise had been imprisoned before, hadn't he? Who had done the deed the first time around? And if he was such a threat, would they not intervene again if he went too far?
“If it were me... well, not that I'm the revenge-type or anything,” Twilight adds suspiciously quickly, “I'd wait till they were both long gone and just destroy everything they ever built. Render their whole lives pointless. But that's his type, isn't it? Doesn't count if the victim isn't there to see it.”
“Alright. Demise would never be Nayru's favorite, I'll grant you that,” he says, sobering. “It's just... It hurts to hear Time and Legend insult Hylia. She's not...”
Not the one that deserves their blame.
Twilight runs a hand through his hair. “Can't speak for 'em. Much as I'd like to pretend, it ain't my mind and I ain't them as sure as they ain't me. The questing took its toll on their hearts and souls. I don't even want to imagine what Hyrule and Wild's doubts are like.”
Sky knows, though. He's heard Hyrule asking Legend once. He doesn't even understand what faith is meant to be. And, he thinks, gaze to the broken village outside, not without reason. What have the goddesses done for this kingdom that worshipped them?
“But I ain't about all that chosen talk... Chosen.”
Sky snorts. That was so terrible Time would be proud. The old man, somehow, relishes in their agony. The stupider the joke, the better, he said.
“I told you guys it was too pretentious for me.”
Twilight looks back to the flames. “It's too bad for the City Boy that he hasn't gotten that title. Would have flaunted it, the bastard.”
The image is amusing, until it's not.
“Do you think... do you wish it would have been him instead of me? Do you think Warriors could have done it right?”
Twilight stills. Sky sees him clench and unclench his fists a few times, then let out a long exhale. There's a hint of weariness in his gaze. Hard and walled in stone.
“You think your goddess could put up with Fancy’s hair flips? He'd turn her mad after just one of his rants about the standards of beauties of men.”
There's no hesitation. None whatsoever. “Yes. She would. She loves every incarnation of the Hero. Every single one of them. With all her heart.”
Twilight's lips twitch. It could be amusement. Or bitterness.
“Funny thing from a woman I've never met. Ain't ever heard of the gal till... well, Wild. I was grown on the worship of the Golden Trio, personally. Already chosen by Farore before I was found in Ordon. Can't imagine what made her think a two years old was especially brave when lost in the woods, but what I remember of it is just me crying and wondering about and getting stung by mosquitoes the size of my hands.”
Sky's silly bleeding heart cries for the image of a young Twilight, just a toddler with tear tracks on his face, stumbling out of a forest. Burns, then, when his brain reminds him of all the monsters that take residence in the woods of most eras of Hyrule. Stops when he recalls the other important detail: Twilight never found out who his parents were. Not their names, not what they did, not why he had been wandering alone.
Sky grabs his brother's hand and locks gaze with him. “I think you were brave then. Farore knew it too.”
Twilight’s face flushes red. “If... if you say so. But, that wasn't my... Urgh. Back home, I prayed to the Golden Trio because that's what Rusl and Uli did. I thanked Farore for wind on a hot day, Nayru for rain that irrigated the fields and Din for the fire in the hearth during winter. It wasn't much more than that.”
“We... we celebrate Hylia on Skyloft. She is the one that lifted the land in the sky to protect us from an unending war with demons. We have festivals in her name. Coming of Age happens before her most well-known statue. There's not a person in Skyloft that doesn't believe. All my life, I was told to show her gratitude. And I did, even in the pits of that damned temple, with shambling corpses trying to drag me under. Even when things looked lost, I still... I still had faith. I felt her love with me the whole way.”
He pauses, letting out a shuddering breath.
“Did you have that?” he asks in a whisper so quiet he couldn't tell if he was even heard.
Twilight, not helping matters, only glances around the broken furniture, the spilled wardrobe and the rags inside. “I had someone else talking over my shoulder,” Twilight says with a wicked grin. “I wouldn't have called her a goddess though. The impact on her ego that would have had, oh man. The Chosen Hero stuff though? Honestly, I forgot all about that until Princess Zelda mentioned it. Destiny didn't mean much to me then. I didn't even hear of Ganondorf until I was like, past the midway point.”
“He's the curse,” Sky confesses, hanging his head in shame. “He's the one that incarnates Demise's Hatred. You can't tell me that he never affected you. I saw your face the first time I said I never met the man.”
“Oh, yes, him I hate. Nearly killed everyone I loved. Doesn't mean I hate you though.”
“But-!”
“My Ganondorf is the same one the old man stopped. The same person.”
Sky's jaw drops. The same Ganondorf? Not a reincarnation?
He thought... he thought Twilight and Time had lived in different eras. Their bond has always seemed a little special. Older on Twilight's part as well. Like he had known Time before Time could become aware of him. It only made sense if one was the other's successor, but now he ponders. Are they... are they father and son? Had Twilight taken up his sword to finish what Time had been too old to do? He knew Demise's Hatred wasn't truly a man, but he had had the failings of one.
“H-how?”
“The ghosts of sages past pretty much confirmed it. Before my time, Ganondorf was accused of plotting a coup and trying to steal the Triforce from the kingdom of Hyrule. He was eventually arrested and scheduled for execution in the newly built Arbiter's Grounds.”
The name, for a reason he doesn't understand, sends a shiver down his spine.
An odd light glints in Twilight's eyes as he rests his sword over his knees. “But right as they thrust the sword in his chest, Din gave him the Triforce of Power.”
What the fuck, Sky thinks, and he'd chastised himself over such a blasphemous thought, but he can't muster the brainpower to do it. Din. Din of the Golden Trio. One of the Three. Why?
“What the fuck, right?” Twilight smirks, very much aware of Sky's bafflement. “The sages couldn't explain it either. They said... it must have been a divine prank.”
Something searing hot curls into Sky's chest, ugly and dark. His eyes fall on Twilight's form again. On his brother's scars, both on and under his skin. The self-deprecating smirk, growing sad as memories of his adventures must be surfacing. The horrors he saw. The battles he fought. The one he lost. Everything.
A. Prank.
Clarity is burnt into him. He knows, in the moment, what Time and Legend feel. Right down to his bone marrow, bitterness fills his thoughts and heart.
Demise. Demise, he can grasp. He can understand the shape of him and his evils. The motives, lacking as they are, feel so much smaller with that perspective. Petty, based on passion and emotions. Almost like a Hylian. But this? Is betrayal. The Goddesses he was taught were the benevolent makers of the world. The bastion upon which the world rests. Why then, Sky wonders. Why would Din indulge the incarnation of Demise's hatred just as the sages put him down without a struggle?
Why empower evil right as good triumphs?
Do they truly know anything about the gods?
“I don't get it,” Sky says, the only thing he can think to say at all.
Twilight's arm hooks around his neck.
“I don't understand either, and I've decided not to care. Din condemned us, Nayru granted us respite through my queen and Farore...” He looks down to the back of his left hand, where, under the gauntlet, Sky knows the Triforce of Courage lays. “Farore marked me from birth for salvation. I don't know how they work. It sounds almost like a balancing act. Did they each choose separately? Together? And if they didn't, was Din the first one to act or just the one that made the biggest impact? Maybe it was a prank. A big great game between three sisters having fun with their toys.”
The corners of Twilight's mouth lift up an inch, and Sky has the fearful impression that Twilight knows exactly the impact of his words.
“The worst pain I've ever endured... was inflicted on me by Farore, by the way.”
“Twilight! You, what are you even... the fuck?!”
Twilight's hand lands a solid clap on his back, and his snicker is boisterous. “The first time I turned into a wolf, that was due to this.” He rubs the Triforce of Courage on the back of his hand. “But that first change? Like my body had been left to dry during the hot season just in time for a wildfire. I swear to the Goddesses... nothing could ever compare. And that helped, in the face of monsters I'd never seen before.” And Twilight looks up to the ceiling, half caving from rot, and his eyes spark. His voice thrums with an unusual intensity. “No threat of pain ever made me pause. I never missed a beat from fear. I knew, on some deep level, that the worst would always be behind me, and I'd made the source of it my own tool for battle. I'd overcome Farore's test, in some way.”
Sky realizes he is holding in his breath a moment later. That his brother's words cast a spell of silence on this small dilapidated home. There's something empowering to the idea.
He remembers his own adventure a bit differently. He'd found Courage on a path more traveled, he feels. “I didn't have time to be afraid. I was chasing a demon lord after my Zelda. I knew I couldn't be scared of the monsters, because I had to face their master to free the love of my life. So I refused to be.”
And, it's some strange irony that he suddenly sees salvation within reach.
“For the record, Hyrule likes his country,” Twilight muses, like he's sorting through his memories.
Sky feels the burn of shame on his face. He doesn't mean it like an insult! “It wasn't...”
“No, sorry, let me rephrase that. He loves this place. He sees everything wrong with it, and he loves it anyway. He's working on improving it. He'll take the grueling tasks, the down and dirty, and he's gonna keep improving it until the rest of the country sees it the way he does. I say, it's a brave man that walks through broken ruins and still fights for the one wild flower he finds blooming there.”
“Please tell me you told him that,” Sky begs. Because he knows Twilight is Time's protege and Time is a man of few words. It works for them, but Hylia, he hopes...
“Why? It's pretty obvious, isn't it?”
Sky groans.
“Just... tell him, alright.”
Twilight looks a little bemused, but shrugs. “Sure, first thing when we see him tomorrow.”
That's a tempting thought, actually. Just getting it over with. To throw it at them, but that's another form of cowardice. To unload such a weight on people he loves without giving them a proper chance to prepare. He had to do this right. He owed them at least that explanation. If the constant heartaches had a purpose... maybe they'd be easier to bear.
'Why couldn't you just do it right the first time around?' echoes the voices from his nightmare.
Twilight's hand grabs his and squeezes. Concerned. “We can't force them to be reasonable right away, but we can knock their heads on straight.”
Twilight would. Somehow, despite the admiration for Time that Twilight never bothered to hide, Sky is certain that he would indeed slap him upside the head if the situation calls for it. And protecting one of them would definitely be one of those circumstances.
“They can be mad,” he says. “With what Ganondorf wrecked, they-”
“In Wind's time, the Goddesses saw Hyrule burn and doused it with an ocean. Do you think it's better than this era?”
Ravaged by fire. Swallowed by water. One, the act of a demon. The other, that of three goddesses.
He can't tell the difference. He can't tell the difference!
Hylia, Sky's head is spinning. Instinct latches on memories well-loved. Hylia cared. Hylia was one of the lesser divinities. One to guard the Triforce, not grant it. She, who loved the Hero so much, stepped into the world of mortals to forever be with him and help him protect the creation of the Three.
“Sky, I swear I don't resent Time over Ganondorf surviving his era. I don't resent the Twili for not stopping Zant before he could usurp the Twilight Realm. Not the guards that failed to prevent the invasion, not the Light Spirits that couldn't protect the very provinces they were meant to guard. Sky, hate is so hard to live with, I don't want to waste my heart raging about people that never deserved it. And maybe we're all different people, but we share the Hero's Spirit and I know that false blame has no place in it.”
The fire in the hearth sputters and embers are sent flying a few feet. They burn out entirely in midair, and with a sigh, Twilight rises to tear off another leg from an old chair and feed it to the flames. It's a simple, domestic gesture, not unlike the sort of things Sky remembers from Gaepora at the academy, when it was just him and Zelda, just children huddling together under a blanket.
The headmaster would tease them, and Zelda would laugh, unimpressed. She'd claim that it was only right, because she had decided they would be married, and not even Hylia could disapprove.
Even now, he blushes at the memory, his heart light in his chest.
Another log is stirred lazily through the hearth. He can see the headmaster's shadow over Twilight's.
Until he notices that Twilight's lips are moving silently. The words, Sky's unsure, but there's a faint impression of practiced in his brother's body language. Rehearsed. And, he can't quite stop himself from asking.
“... Who are you praying to?”
“Din.”
“Din? You're praying to Din?! Even after all that?!”
Twilight gives him one of those 'I'm-a-simple-man' shrug and Sky has the most troubling, greatest revelations of them all. Twilight is fucking with him.
“The fire's still there, isn't it?”
They might lose a finger to frostbite through the night without the fire. They need it. And there the pieces fit together. The picture of who Twilight is, and the value of being an earnest man. They need the fire, and the flames are there, and that's enough. The Goddesses might drown the world tomorrow, but tonight they allowed the flames to burn, through passion, through logic, through love.
Sky lifts a finger to the clasp that holds Zelda's sail around his neck. Then, deliberately, pulls the cloak of his shoulders to wrap them around both their shoulders.
Twilight blinks in surprise for but a moment, then grins back and shares his own wolf pelt. “Who needs gods, huh?”
Yes, Sky thinks. The fire is still here, but the warmth is all you.
AN: I have *opinions* about this fandom conflating all the Links into Hylia believers and I do not like it. Hylia is a very recent addition to the Zelda lore, and I hate that everyone acts like she's always been there. It's not even needed! There are thousands of years of hystory to go through. The worship of ONE goddess dying out and coming back (with Wild) shouldn't be such an impossibility. And the others meeting Sky and Wild shouldn't be enough to turn all their beliefs on their heads to include Hylia right away and make her the scapegoat for all the issues. Seriously, look at what the Triforce trio did before Hylia's inclusion. Don't they make more interesting figures to wax philosophy about??
OR.
Sky: *dealing with Hero Complex and impossible standards*
Twilight: *fresh out of a conversation with everyone else* You too? *pulls up sleeves, cracks his knuckles* You're on, skyboy.
Sky: *angst about Demise*
Twilight: He was a dumb shit.
Sky: *having a theological crisis*
Twilight: How about I fix that by making it even worse?
55 notes · View notes
snidgetwidgeon · 3 years
Text
Insurrection Recollections Series: Royal Etiquette & Funding
Zelda sighed and began distracting herself with the clouds rolling by through the large windows of the Reception Hall. About a quarter of the size of the Great Hall, it was filled with amenities for entertaining delegates, courtiers, and their guests. At ten in the morning on Mondays, however- when nothing social was ever scheduled- Governess Beatrice utilized the space to teach young ladies from the upper and middle classes in Castle Town, as well as the noble families across Hyrule, about etiquette. She was currently standing at the head of the table, which was draped decoratively in neutral linens, and decked out with just about every dish, glass and piece of silverware one could imagine; including those that featured on the tables of all the races in Hyrule. Eye-catching pops of color were provided by the matching table runner and napkins, all in complementary shades of red, but to Zelda, it seemed frilly and way over the top.
Governess Beatrice must have known, or planned herself what the display was going to look like today, because she matched it perfectly. She wore a deep crimson gown over a cream chemise with long sleeves trailing from her elbow. In her hand, she held a fan which Zelda could swear was permanently attached to her body if it weren’t for the fact that it always changed to align with her elaborate ensembles. She was also partial to big hair and small hats.
As she droned on, Zelda went further into her daydream and thought she could see the Royal Crest in the clouds. Perhaps it was a sign from Hylia. Maybe if she prayed now, the power would come to her. What if she didn’t even need her robe, heirloom jewelry, or to be penitent before Hylia’s statue? Maybe she just needed to be open to celestial signs in the clouds. She clasped her hands under the table and moved her lips silently in prayer, eyes locked on the crest that had already begun to morph out of shape.
“Princess Zelda? Princess, may I have your attention please?” After no answer, Beatrice smacked her fan on the edge of the table. “Princess Zelda! Pray tell, what is so important that you are ignoring my class?”
Zelda snapped out of her focus and looked sadly at her instructor, “I thought I had received a sign from the Goddess.” She looked down at her hands, “But she has not answered my prayer.”
Beatrice was taken aback, reprimands dying on her tongue. “I see.” She did feel somewhat sympathetic, though still frustrated. When Zelda had first joined her classes, she been instructed to allow the Princess to seek the divine if she felt naturally inclined. After recalling the directive, Beatrice opened the fan with the flick of her wrist and offered graciously, “Perhaps your Highness would like to retire to the chapel to continue communing with Hylia?”
Zelda closed her eyes and nodded wistfully.
“Very well then, you may be excused.” Beatrice clipped.
Zelda stood and elegantly held her hands in front of her the way she knew Governess Beatrice liked. When she stepped away from the table, an attendant skillfully blending into the wall nearby, approached to push her vacated chair back in. They immediately returned to their position of observation.
Before she made her way out, she made a request. “Governess Beatrice, could Lady Agitha please accompany me?”
The two were inseparable, Beatrice noted, and the lesson was nearly done so she couldn’t see too much harm in it. “Lady Agitha, you may join the Princess. I expect you both to be diligent and learn from your peers what you’ve missed. Perhaps you can invite some of them to tea before Thursday.”
Agitha had leapt from her chair and practically scurried over to Zelda. She hadn’t yet grasped the finer points of subversion.
Beatrice clapped her hands, “Ah, ah! Girls... decorum.”
Zelda gave Agitha a look to ‘cut-it-out’ and took her friend’s arm in her own. They departed, Zelda’s steady steps guiding Agitha’s giddy ones.
~~~
It had been a few months of constant tedium and Zelda found that she could not always sealshit her way out of it. Twice a week, they learned how to speak, walk, stand, sit, breath, and exist as a lady. If it had to be done, there was a proper way to do everything, even blow your nose. But no one ever dared break wind. As far as Governess Beatrice was concerned, ladies did not poot.
Zelda’s eleventh birthday was approaching and Beatrice was using the event as a reason for the girls to begin perfecting their curtsies. First, they began by learning basic form. Once the general sweep of the leg, the dip of the head, and suspension of the arm was well practiced, she started to demonstrate the different levels one observed for varying degrees of rank. Zelda had been exposed to this all her life but Governess Beatrice was exceptionally exacting and expected nothing less than perfect preciseness. She thought of attempting escape again but she’d already done it twice this month. Anything more would surely attract suspicion.
Just as she started to feel a brain melt coming on after the fiftieth-odd curtsy, the Governess called an end to their lesson for that day. She entreated them to practice before later in the week when they would continue, and her excitement was practically terrifying when she announced they’d be presented with a varied wardrobe to study with. The morning was sure to be overflowing with petticoats, laces and frills.
Zelda wondered if she could play sick, or hide in the library. She much preferred it there, and recently she had managed to make a friend with an acquaintance of the Head Librarian Laslin. Her name was Impa and she had come to Castle Town recently with her older sister from Kakariko Village up in the Necluda mountains. They were here to research Ancient Sheikah Technology and were apparently already well informed on the subject. Zelda didn’t know much beyond the fact that the Astral Observatory was Sheikah. She adored that part of the castle and held dear a few faint, but very warm memories of her mother teaching her about the constellations.
“I’ll say it one more time ladies. You’d do well to practice on your own because we will be staying on this until you have all transformed into elegant herons.” She finished in the sing song voice that she thought made her seem nice, but really just grated on everyone’s nerves.
Zelda’s legs were so sore the following week after the extra curtsy lessons that it reminded her of the time she had tried ballet. The stiffness of her thighs made everything difficult, even using the lavatory; especially in her court dress. She smoothed the skirts and made sure everything was back in place before returning to the high tea being held in the courtyards. She was hoping she could get away with doing nothing more than sit and look pleasant for the rest of the afternoon, but just as she made herself comfortable under the pavilion, Governess Beatrice announced that they would be taking a stroll through the gardens.
Zelda sighed and rolled her eyes, which her friend Agitha had seen and giggled. She came to join Zelda as the sore Princess got up again and took her arm. “It’s better if you keep walking around you know,” she imparted as if she was full of infinite wisdom.
“How do you know that?” Zelda asked skeptically.
“Because my older brother told me. He goes on lots of adventures.” She paused as they both received parasols upon entry to the gardens, and ignored Beatrice’s spiel extolling the virtues of parasols. “He gets to do all the fun things with father while I have to stay here ‘because it’s tradition’,” she quoted her mother in a mocking voice.
“I thought brothers were no-good troublemakers.” Zelda stated with an air of query.
“Mine’s ok... most of the time.” Agitha laughed at her own joke while Zelda smiled, then continued, “When we’re both at home he helps me to find the best bugs.”
Zelda halted in shock and pulled Agitha to the side of the path so the other girls could pass. She whispered excitedly, “You like hunting for bugs!?”
Agitha dropped her parasol over their heads to whisper back, “I have a collection! I haven’t been able to add to it for a while though. Too much lady stuff to do,” she spat out with a scrunched face.
“I know the best rocks to look under, follow me!”
They were suddenly a flurry of giggles disappearing around the corner of a hedged bush. The other girls rolled their eyes and the teacher’s pet of the bunch took it upon herself to go and inform the Governess that there had been a break of rank in there very serious garden stroll.
Zelda dropped her parasol to the ground carelessly when they arrived in her old hunting grounds. There was a garden bed separated from the gravel path by a curved line of medium sized stones. She dropped to her knees and began turning them over one by one, inspecting the microcosm under each. Agitha joined her on the ground after folding and leaning her parasol against a bush with slightly more decorum, but once she was into the bugs, all sense of propriety was forgotten. They dirtied their dresses in the upturned soil and Agitha stood back up to hold out a layer of her skirts to make a receptacle. She directed Zelda which bugs to throw in and they devolved into fits of giggles as they rediscovered one of their beloved childhood activities. When they were found, Governess Beatrice was beside herself at their display of unladylike behavior.
All the other girls had followed to see what the commotion was about and were entertained beyond measure that the Princess of Hyrule was in trouble. They stood in their pristine, high tea finery, with slightly agape mouths hidden by dainty gloved fingers.
“Lady Agitha! Princess Zelda!” Beatrice’s head kept jerking back and forth between the two of them as if she couldn’t decide whom to admonish first. She decided on the royalty. “Princess Zelda, stand up at once! You have completely dirtied yourself!”
Zelda stood and brushed some of the dirt off the fabric over her knees. She started to tip the rocks back to rights with her foot while Beatrice turned her frustration to Agitha.
“And- Lady Agitha!” she admonished while straightening her back.
Agitha clutched her skirt closed around her waist and started to feel distraught that she would lose her new friends.
“What in Hyrule are you doing? It is very improper to be showing your petticoats in public. Put them to rights this instant,” she demanded. When Agitha hesitated, she became cross. She snapped her fan and came closer in an effort to appear more intimidating. “I said fix your dress, girl. You look like a harlot!”
Zelda glared daggers at the woman and vowed to get her back somehow, but Agitha took care of it herself.
Fear gave way to anger and she decided to unleash her new army upon Beatrice in frustration for not being allowed to be who she was any more. She hated growing up. With a dramatic cry of, “Have them, then!” she flung her dress open and the bugs were hurled in her direction.
The woman proceeded to scream, throwing up her parasol and flapping her fan all over to get the critters away. As she carried on, all the young ladies started laughing... and Agitha curtsied.
~~~
Four Years Later
Agitha kept moving restlessly from the parlor table to the tall balcony windows, peering out at the long and empty road leading up to the Windvane Manor.
After hearing her sigh for the umpteenth time, her older brother Theudric drawled, “At this rate, you’ll dull the marble. Why don’t you busy yourself and go check on the refreshments?” He was draped on the chaise lounge reading and when she came back over to scowl at him, he smirked.
“And miss her arrival? Absolutely not!” Her hip bounced a little and she admitted, “Though I do need to powder my nose.”
Just as her dress swished around the corner and out of the room, Theudric yelled, “Agitha! She’s here!”
“Finally!” She came peeling back round, almost slipping on the polished floors, and raced to the window only to find the same empty cobblestones. She heard her brother snickering behind his book and stomped over with a withering glare. “You remember the last time?” she threatened. “What ended up in your bed?”
His eyes went wide and he fell silent, burying his face in the book again, but his shoulders were still bouncing slightly.
It was still another three quarters of an hour before their guest arrived. Zelda appeared bright and cheerful, too excited to be tired from her journey, and refused offers of an afternoon’s repose. The opportunities to spend time with her friend were dwindling far too much so she wanted to take advantage of all the limited time they’d have. If she could give up sleep she would.
Agitha held her for an age in a warm embrace and then brought her to the parlor where they could all have luncheon. The moment they entered, Theudric snapped his book shut and stood ramrod straight, a slight color entering his cheeks.
“Zelda, you remember my brother, Theudric?”
Zelda smiled as he approached and gave a curt bow. “Princess Zelda, it is my pleasure to receive you to the manor. Lord and Lady Windvane send their apologies since they are away on business.”
“Thank you, and please give them my regards when they return,” she performed a small curtsy.
“Right,” Agitha announced. “Are we done with the pleasantries? Let’s eat! I’m famished.”
They gathered around the table and Theudric jumped to Zelda’s side to pull out her chair. “If you’ll allow me one more pleasantry.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Agitha stood near her own chair watching the lingering interaction and then cleared her throat.
Theudric shook his head a little in exasperation, “Oh, of course. Let me get that for you Aggi.”
They caught up while they ate and shared their latest interests. Agitha declared that she had a lovely surprise for Zelda in the lower storerooms of the house and Zelda spoke about her obsession with ancient Sheikah technology after the Divine Beasts had been discovered. A new friend, Dr. Purah, had lead the excavation for the last one in Eldin about two years prior and her younger sister Impa had begun advising the King on the subject. Zelda had since signed on to help where she could.
As she continued regaling her company with anecdotes about her translation work, Theudric sat riveted; he was so impressed with her academic achievements. A lot of people held the incorrect assumption that the Princess frittered away her time in court. She did make appearances in court- he had seen her himself on a few occasions when he went to the castle with his father on business- but she hardly wasted her time there. In fact, it seemed to him that she stayed the bare minimum that was acceptable. He vowed from then on that he would defend her honor and brilliance to anyone who stated anything to the contrary.
When he joined in the conversation and spoke of what their parents were up to lately, Agitha put on her most irksome, bored face. “Theu, that’s not interesting in the slightest- Zelda, have you had enough?” she interrupted herself to change the subject. “I can’t wait any longer to show you my new collection.”
Zelda laughed and regarded Theudric with a look of apology. “Forgive me Master Theudric, I appear to be summoned to the bowels of the house. Will you be joining us?” she asked as she stood.
He rose with her out of respect and opened his mouth but Agitha cut in, “He will not. He told me earlier that the day was so lovely he might go riding, and it’s about time I got you all to myself.”
Theudric put on mock dramatics, “I’m afraid I can’t join your Highness as I have a previous engagement with my horse. Missing an appointment with her would be a most egregious offense.” He bowed deeply. “Please forgive my absence.”
Agitha rolled her eyes and Zelda smiled bemusedly. She heard pandering like this all the time but it was much more palatable when delivered in jest rather than earnestly. It could become very tiring when people tried too hard and spoke only to her rank instead of to her person. It was why these less frequent opportunities to visit her friend away from the castle had become all the more important. She could relax and be herself out here, especially with Agitha. The only other respite she had was Gerudo Town and a trip there was even harder to wrangle as her responsibilities grew with each passing year.
“That’s quite understandable,” Zelda related. “My Rune also gets temperamental if I don’t visit him regularly.” She dipped her head and took one more little triangle egg sandwich from the table as Agitha dragged her off. “Enjoy your ride!”
Agitha led Zelda downstairs to one of the cooler, stone-lined basement store rooms. Behind the heavy wooden door that Agitha held open for her, Zelda’s breath was taken away by all of the glass terrariums lit by a plethora of lanterns. Each one had a manicured ecosystem and held from one, to many different species of bugs. Zelda bounced from one to the next as Agitha stood back, pleased with her reaction.
“This is wonderful Agitha! How did you manage to curate this?”
“Mother finally caved and said I could pursue my entomology hobby as long as it ‘doesn’t interfere with my other obligations’,” she quoted, exaggerating her mother’s shrill voice.
“I’m so happy for you. Oh! What’s this one? It doesn’t have a sign yet.”
Agitha approached to get a closer look. “Ah, that’s one of the rainy beauties, a Thunderwing Butterfly. Mother had a cow when I went to collect it because I was running around the meadow in a downpour.” She sighed, “Honestly, I’m so glad when she goes away because then I can just do my thing without her fretting over me.”
In a soft voice that sounded wistfully sad, Zelda offered a different perspective. “I’m sure that whatever she does, she does it out of love.”
Agitha was about to argue but when she noticed Zelda’s face after turning her attention away from the butterfly, she understood what she’d done. “Yeah... I’m sure you’re right.”
~~~
The next morning, Theudric found himself in front of the mirror trying to make himself look extra spiffy. He’d already asked his valet to put out one of his smartest ensembles. It included a red vest with gold buttons, brown trousers and calf-high boots. He was about to second guess if it was too fancy when he got distracted by his hair and proceeded to fiddle with it for a good twenty minutes. There were only so many things he could do with a short brown mop so finally, he just slicked it back and finished with a spritz of cologne.
He came downstairs, ready to entertain but he couldn’t see the girls anywhere. Their breakfast was half eaten and in his curiosity to find out where they could have gone, he gulped a bit of apple juice and grabbed a boiled egg to eat on his way out.
He wasn’t expecting to run right into them after turning the corner of the garden hedge, so he covered his mouth unceremoniously as he chewed quickly, the pasty egg yolk clinging to his teeth and tongue.
Zelda looked up and smiled radiantly under her sun hat. "Good morning Master Theudric." She was bent over the rim of a new large terrarium on a table, carefully placing a bit of hollow log inside to add to the habitat.
“Yes,” he finished swallowing his breakfast, “it is indeed a very beautiful morning. What are you ladies up to?”
Agitha gave him a withering stare. “What does it look like, genius?”
“Give me a break, I haven’t even been able to have my coffee,” he defended himself. “Had to come looking for you instead, didn’t I.”
“And just in time too. This one’s almost finished,” she said as she placed seedlings in pre-prepared holes in the soil at the bottom. “You can help us carry it downstairs.”
“Oh! Ah, I just remembered,” he started with a pained look on his face. “I have this thing.” He started to retreat and Agitha produced a flat and unamused expression that made him chuckle. “I’m just kidding Aggi. Are we carrying it or is it heavy enough that I need to get Genly?
“Mmmm, yes. I think Genly would be a good idea. I saw him in the stables earlier when I went to get some manure.”
“Wow, you aren’t messing around,” he said with a mix of curiosity and disgust.
“Only the best for my babies,” she answered.
His brow raised skeptically. “Riiiight... I’ll just go fetch Genly, then,” he stated while letting his gaze linger on Zelda as she brushed her hands together to remove the soil.
He had just turned away when she looked up to speak, the thought of allowing some self indulgence crossing her mind. “Master Theudric, do you mind if I join you? I’d love to meet the mare that stole you away from us yesterday.” Of course all three of them had known it was a pretense, but she enjoyed keeping up the ruse.
Theudric curtly bowed at the waist and gestured toward the stables. “Absolutely, your Highness. Posy would be enchanted.”
“She’s enchanted by hydromelons and if you visit her without them she’ll be a right little piece of twatittude,” Agitha warned. “I’m going to water this in. Don’t take too long.”
While Zelda bribed her way into Posy’s affections, Theudric searched the stables for Genly and found him organizing in the tack room. He was a kindly, middle aged man who’d worked for the Windvane family since he was about fifteen. His family ran the Highland Stable down south but rather than taking on the business and starting a family as he would have been expected to do when he got older, he decided to make his own way and live quietly alone in a little house on the grounds.
“Ah, Master Theudric,” Genly greeted him with a smile under his bushy mustache, tipping his hat. “Going for a ride this fine morning?”
“Morning Genly. Not at the moment.” He was about to continue with his request when an idea occurred to him. “Though maybe a bit later. I’m afraid I’m just after assistance with some heavy lifting. Aggi needs a new tank taken downstairs to her lair.”
“Righto,” Genly said as he laid some rope on the table to return to later. “Always happy to help; point the way.”
Zelda opted to continue making Posy’s acquaintance. She was entertained by the fact that the temperamental mare was pacified by hydromelons. They weren’t the usual fare at the castle stables and she thought perhaps she should acquire some for Rune to try. Maybe it would help them to bond better.
Theudric wasn’t long in returning and Genly, who was in tow to head back to what he’d initially been doing, took one look at them and steered clear out the other end of the stables to do something else. He tipped his hat as he passed by, “Your Highness.”
She smiled and nodded, then regarded Theudric with a hand on Posy’s muzzle. “Well, shall we get back? Agitha will certainly be getting restless by now.”
He leaned against the gate of Posy’s enclosure and smoothed his hair back with one hand before saying, “Actually, I’m wondering if you’d be willing to humor me for awhile. I’d love to hear more about the ancient Sheikah research you’re into.” His face was all keen interest.
“I’d be wary of that if I were you,” she warned. “Once you get me going on the subject, I’ll forget the time and talk you to exhaustion, I’m sure!”
His lips turned up into a dashing smile. “Try me.”
She seemed reticent but still in good humor, so he pursued a different tactic. “How about a deal then?”
She forgot her manners and snorted derisively, accidentally startling Posy. “Of what sort- oh, sorry Posy, I’ll leave you to the rest of your melon,” she said as she put the remaining pieces in her feed trough.
“A hobby for a hobby. You tell me all about yours while I escort you to mine. That way, there will be mutually assured boredom.”
She enjoyed his company. He seemed to not judge her natural proclivities and she appreciated that. “I really can’t fault your logic, Master Theudric.”
“Please, call me Theu,” he requested earnestly.
Agitha had just arrived on the scene to find out what had been keeping them and rolled her eyes so hard her whole body teetered to one side. “Uuugh, you’re not taking her to the Collie, are you?”
“Why not? If we take the horses, it will be a fun, midday outing. We can take a lunch.”
“What’s going on at the Coliseum?” Zelda asked, unable to hide her curiosity.
Theudric began to speak but Agitha cut him off again, “Only his pet project which daddy is sooo proud of.��
Before Agitha could continue teasing, Zelda said earnestly, “It’s a wonderful thing to have a father’s approval. I think I’d like to see the hobby that garnered such a thing. Maybe I can get some tips so father can see the value in my hobby as well.”
Theudric’s ears perked up and he asked, “Are you short of funding?”
“Honestly, I can’t complain. The research has been well funded, but it has grown to the point where we need a second location. There is an energy source that must be tapped if we want to progress as quickly as possible.”
“Sounds very interesting.”
“You say that, but there’s a catch. It’s almost as far east as you can get, near the Village of Hateno.”
“Ahh, the boonies. Father calls it bum ffff- never mind,” he caught himself from almost being incredibly uncouth in front of the Princess of Hyrule and straightened his posture. He just found her so easy to be around. Quite a different flavor from other young ladies he’d socialized with.
She suppressed a chuckle and caught Agitha’s bored expression from where she was sitting on a bale of hay, twirling pieces in her hand and waiting. “Agitha, are you going to join us? I think a ride with lunch sounds lovely.”
“It’s ok. You two go on ahead.” She stood up and stretched. “I’m going to finish the habitat for the second tank. I’ll send something from the kitchen while the horses get tacked up.”
Theudric looked incredulous. “Thanks Aggi.”
She left the stables and just as he was about to continue his conversation with Zelda, she poked her head around the corner. “Don’t take all day, you hear?!”
Zelda waved cheerfully and had a look at the other horses in their stalls. “So Theu, who shall I get ready to ride today?”
“Oh! Um...” he quickly turned away from her so he could hide the warmth he felt on his cheeks, no doubt manifesting as a full on blush at hearing his nickname as he’d requested. He led her to a brown and white spotted mare about three stalls down. “We’ll have to take Daisy because she’s the only one that Posy likes hanging around with.”
“Daisy and Posy, hm? All we need is another flower and we’ll be on our way to a bouquet,” Zelda joked.
And she made silly jokes. He was a goner.
Theudric led Daisy out to introduce them and laughed nervously. “Actually, you’re not far off. All the horses have been bred at my Uncle Talon’s farm on the other side of the field and he’s a... a quirky one. Names all his horses after flowers.” He leaned over to look past Zelda outside, “I’ll just find Genly to tack up.”
As he brushed past, she touched his arm, “It’s ok, I like doing it myself. Besides, that way Daisy can get to know me better before we go. Isn’t that right, beautiful girl?” she cooed, gently stroking Daisy’s face.
Theudric felt rude for letting his surprise show but she was paying more attention to Daisy anyhow. “Alright then, let’s get ready.”
He collected saddles and reins from the tack room and they got to work. She asked him about his project but he only touched on it briefly, wanting to share the full story during their outing when he could show as well as tell. He did let on that it was his innovation to combine the annual Kingdom Games with a harvest market. It would be a whirlwind fortnight of competition and bartering, boosting trade in the region for smaller, local farmers, and trades people. It was also ideally situated to receive the quality gem crafts and fabrics coming out of Gerudo Desert.
Zelda sat astride her mount first and was glad she brought her hat as she rode out into the clear summer day. Genly came past with another tip of his hat and handed her a packed lunch. “This came from the big house. I hope you enjoy your ride, your Highness. I’ll take care of the girls when you get back.”
“Thank you, Genly,” she beamed.
He shrugged shyly over the Princess of Hyrule remembering his name and passed Theudric’s lunch to him as he emerged next from the stables astride Posy. The two horses nibbled at each other and snorted, but otherwise got on.
“Well, then. Shall we?” Theudric asked.
Zelda clicked her heels and set off at a cantor. “We shall!”
~~~
The moment Zelda pulled away and the last of her small retinue were out of earshot, Agitha turned on her brother with a look of disdain. "I hardly get to see Zelda anymore. I'd appreciate you not stealing her from me next time she visits."
He finished waving and rolled his eyes at her as he turned to go back in the house.
When he didn't say anything, she kept on. "Theu! Seriously, you used to pay us no mind whatsoever. Why are you butting in?"
He kept walking through the vaulted foyer and answered nonchalantly, "I like her."
She froze in a silent gasp but recovered from the shock quickly, catching up to him in a flurry of clicking steps that reverberated off the polished floor. "Well- then-," she struggled to retain the argument after such a bombshell. "Then go see her on your own time and-"
He whirled on her, having become slightly annoyed at her petulance, "Honestly, I don't know why you're so upset. If she likes me back, you two could end up being sisters, and then you can spend as much time with her as you like."
A loud and deep gasp filled the room this time, as if she'd inhaled all the available air in the house, "YOU'RE RIGHT!"
She then left him with a bemused expression as she made a mad dash to her writing desk upstairs. She'd begin matchmaking right away, starting with a letter to Zelda. Subtle hints, not too overt. She'd have to gauge if he was even on her radar. Probably not, all she talked about was ancient Sheikah tech...
She giggled as she wrote, imagining the day when they could be sisters.
25 notes · View notes
Text
I have a lot of thoughts on how Age of Calamity could have worked better for me, but one thought I’ve had since the Demo that only got stronger after completing the game is the idea of putting Impa in Terrako’s role, because I’m just not fond of a robot changing everything instead of a character we know and love.
The game still opens with the original timeline calamity, but after the first shots of the castle the focus moves to Blatchery Plain, where the final battle is taking place. Impa watches from near Kakariko Village, where she and other Sheikah, are stationed to defend their home. She wants to run and help her princess, but is held back. You know this is how it was foretold, you know this is how it has to be, someone, possibly Purah, reminds her. (You cannot take the idea that the Sheikah as a whole had some knowledge that the events of BotW would happen in order for Ganon to be defeated from me). And so she waits, until Zelda’s powers awaken, until Link is taken to the shrine of resurrection and her princess approaches her to ask her to guide him when he wakes, her princess, who has lost so much, tells her that she is going to fight Ganon alone for as long as it takes. And as Zelda walks away, Impa breaks, she can’t let her suffer like this, she opens a time portal and jumps to before it all unravelled.
The first battle of Hyrule Field happens largely the same as in game, except everyone is surprised to see Impa there, rather than at the research lab or in Kakariko. No one more so than Zelda, who comments that it has been years since Impa has visited her. For a split second it’s clear how deeply sad about it they both are, but Impa quickly fakes a smile and says she’s missed her and it seemed like a great time for a visit. Later the King seems mighty unhappy about it, but reluctantly agrees to Zelda’s request to have Impa accompany her to approach the Champions. (Maybe Link doesn’t even get to go with her yet, and there are some parallel missions about him proving himself, and/or he happens to already be there for one or two of the battles, it’s easy to put him in Zora’s Domain with Mipha, but it also makes more sense to leave him out of the Gerudo Town mission).
At the end of the chapter, it’s revealed that the Yiga Clan and Astor have taken the opportunity to capture the original Impa from this timeline, having noticed the time travel using their own ancient technology and figuring out that the presence of the other Impa means no one will notice if the original is missing. Kohga interrogates her for information, but Astor states there may be a better use for her, and then the scene cuts to black. 
That’s all we see of that Impa for a while, the story progresses much the same as it did originally (maybe with a little more adherence to BotW canon and some more character stuff, but that’s not my point here), with Impa inserting herself into every situation she can and trying to steer events away from the original timeline. Unfortunately, part of that is encouraging everyone to drop their use of Sheikah technology, which eventually leads to a fight with Zelda because You sound just like father! Is this why you came back? Just to be his puppet? And she says she doesn’t want Impa coming around her anymore, and she’ll be going to the Spring of Wisdom the next day without her. Impa panics but cannot change her mind, and when she tries to run after her Link blocks her way.
The next cutscene is at night in Zelda’s bedroom, where she tosses and turns unable to sleep. She then hears a noise outside, which turns out to be Impa, sneaking in through her window. She apologises, and says she was wrong, and claims Purah and Robbie have made a discovery that could change everything, Zelda should come see it now before her father can stop them. Zelda agress, relieved to have something other than the pressure of the coming day to focus on and follows behind Impa as she leads her out. Unseen by Zelda, Impa’s eyes flash with Malice-- she is this timeline’s Impa, controlled by Astor.
The next day, Zelda is nowhere to be found. The king is barely keeping composure, Link is being kind of a dumbass in where he looks for her for a little levity (is she behind this curtain? Is she under this table?), the champions, who have come to escort her too, are very uneasy and Impa is all but having a breakdown because she feels this is definitely her fault, and this is when it comes out that she time traveled from the future and the Calamity is going to erupt that very day. Then the search for Zelda gets really frantic, and eventually someone raises the question of wait, if you’re from the future, where’s the Impa that was originally here? They put together that the two disappearances are likely related and decide that the likely most fruitful course of action is to raid the Yiga hideout.
And so they go, and of course it’s a trap, the Calamity erupts while they are all occupied fighting Yiga lackeys (Kohga, Sooga, and Astor are conspicuously absent). Impa urges the Champions not to go to the Divine Beasts, but then the other Impa starts insisting that one is an imposter, that one tricked her and Zelda into being captured, and the Champions begin to falter. Why had she come from the future and only said so now? Was that some tall tale spun to keep them there while Hyrule fell? Why should they abandon the only hope of Hyrule winning this war? They are all in agreement, Link grabs a hold of Zelda and they depart, he and Zelda for the castle, the Champions to their Beasts, all the while Impa yells after them that they can’t win.
And then, once they’re gone, the other Impa begins to fight, Malice coursing through her, strengthened by the Calamity. It’s a playable up to a point, when Impa begs her to remember Zelda, to remember the point of everything, and there’s a quick set of flashbacks to them playing together as children, Impa defending Zelda from Bokoblins, them tinkering with Sheikah tech as young teens, and then just a series of quick flashes of Zelda’s face. The Malice disperses, the timeline’s original Impa quakes in fear of what she might have done, but resolves to change the outcome of the Calamity. Impa says they may not be able to do it alone, and they nod resolutely before the scene cuts.
The new Champions are brought from the future, much the same as before (but they’re enough to defeat the blights on their own without another character). The Impas rush to the castle, where Astor is waiting. Zelda is inside, he says, and soon she’ll die there. It was foretold.
That triggers another flashback. A fortune teller, younger than Astor, dressed suitably for an audience with the king, but unmistakably the same man, whispering to King Rohm those same words. You! screams the time traveling Impa. You caused all this! 
They begin to fight, two against one, and Astor asks Can’t you of all people understand? How much have they asked of us, only to cast us out when we become inconvenient? What has our loyalty ever eared us?
Cut to King Rohm in the past, telling a child Impa that she must protect Zelda with her life. Cut again to him with a young teen Impa that Zelda can’t be distracted with any frivolous studies or games, and Impa is not to see her anymore.
In the present, both Impas appear to falter for a moment. Astor smiles and opens his hands to them. They look to each other, and nod.
And then completely obliterate him.
They make their way to Zelda and Link in the Sanctum, where Ganon’s power has converged for an endless assault on the hero. He’s protected Zelda, but he’s wearing down. For a moment it looks like the Impas are too late, but then the Divine Beasts strike! Maybe here there’s a mission for each of the Beasts complete with some cutscenes of each Champion pair.
Then, as Ganon is weakened, Link strikes again and again. Zelda despairs because even now, her sealing power will not awaken. The time traveling Impa tells her she knows she can do it, she’s seen her.
You have? Zelda asks, hope in her eyes for the first time since the Calamity started.
And then Ganon summons his strength to strike at Impa. She falls, badly injured, and Zelda and the other Impa run to her side while Link batters Ganon further.
Princess, Impa says with faltering breath. Your power has always been in your heart. I wish I had defied fate sooner. 
Her eyes close, and Zelda lets out an anguished scream for her old friend. Her power explodes outward from her, the bow of light materializes and the final fight is played as her, taking Calamity Ganon head on.
She is victorious, but it is, it seems, a bittersweet victory. She emerges from the castle somber, Link trailing her, one Impa carrying the other.
But Age of Calamity is a triumph story, and Mipha has healing powers.
Impa comes too and has an emotional reunion, and then the new Champions agree it’s time for them to return to their own time. Goodbyes are had-- Sidon is particularly lingering, though he won’t say why-- and they all step into a portal Impa makes.
But then it doesn’t close.
Impa realizes that she has to return as well. She argues I fixed it! I belong here! But it is unmoving. She turns heavy hearted to say her goodbyes. The Impa that belongs there promises she’ll be at Zelda’s side from now on. Link nods. The Champions say their bit, and then she finds she doesn’t know what to say to Zelda, and ends up pulling her into a tight hug and then running through the portal without another word. 
She finds herself back in her half-destroyed word, the bright sun of a peaceful Hyrule replaced with the dark clouds of the Calamity. Impa’s shoulders slump.
But then a portal opens up, and a letter flutters down, on stationary clearly marking it as from the Royal Family. Impa catches hold of it and smiles, a little piece of the victory she fought for now in her hands.
10 notes · View notes
webarebares · 4 years
Text
Queen of Arms Chapter 1
I decided to post my Zelink fic here because I’m lonely on Ao3. Here’s the link to it there and it’ll be cut down below :) It deals a lot of with healing and repressed feelings and also they’re kind of exes that weren’t exes.
Summary:  With Link barely remembering her, and Zelda still living in parts of the past, it's hard for them to know how to interact with each other. As Link starts regaining pieces back, Zelda and him have to figure out how to process everything that they have gone through to be able to regain what they once had. That is, if Link wants to.
-
It ached. Deep inside the cavities of her chest danced fire that would never be put out. The castle she once lived in was still full of malice and all the bricks were loose, easily ready to fall in one quake. Almost every single person she grew up loving was gone forever, and even if it had not taken 100 hundred years to return, the initial explosion of The Calamity could’ve never brought them back.
Zelda clipped back her long hair to keep it out of her face as she read behind the Goddess Statue in Karakiko Village. She hid there, reading on the floor to stay away from people for a while. Important Hyrule officials had all flooded the village the weeks before to start the process of reconstruction and find the way to fund everything. The most civilization they had standing was the stable association and the few towns. After barely surviving Ganon, she was still queen at seventeen. She was going to have to fight her whole life.
People were leaving at that moment and would gather back there in a month to finalize everything, but she didn’t want to say goodbye to every single person. She only said bye to Lady Riju who she formed a good friendship within a short amount of time. Riju helped Zelda sneak out of meetings when they had gone on for too long, and they would talk about Urbosa over sweets the children in the village would make them. They would all go around taking pictures near the Great Fairy Fountain on the Shiekah slate Link returned to her.
Link was off doing a secret mission for Impa that she wasn’t told about until he was gone. Right before the Calamity, her and Link were close friends and although he didn’t say much, he would tell her everything. She remembered every sensation of trust and admiration she had towards him along with… other things.
But now, it was hard to have good conversations with him. They were rare and Zelda would think about every word that left his lips like she could lose him again tomorrow. Zelda knew Link before The Calamity, but the Link that she briefly traveled with before settling in Karakiko? He was just a person she once met in a dream.
Link remembered next to nothing, still. He didn’t ask her a lot about before The Calamity and Zelda didn’t push to teach him. If she had the chance to forget the love for the people she couldn’t save, she probably would take it. It’d make living in this new lifetime more bearable.
Link would remember some things here and there. He recently remembered his father and some memories of them together at the outposts before he died. He said he heard his dad’s voice tell him he was proud of him. It was one of the few things he did ask Zelda about the past- how did his father die?
She wondered if he felt like he was getting the news for the first time again when she was telling him. If he remembered all the love his had for his father even if he hadn’t remembered his face or name just hours before.  Zelda remembered all the love she had for her dad the minute she was whole again and searched for it at the top of the Temple of Time with Link guarding her every step on the ripped up roof. All that was there was wind and the distant bones of Hyrule Castle.
Unable to focus on the book she was reading, she closed it and started drawing in the dirt. She wrote out her name.
ZELDA
She hesitated before she stared writing again.
L
“Queen Zelda,” someone called out. She immediately kicked away the writing her foot, awkwardly standing up. She walked to the other side of the Goddess statue and saw Paya standing with her head bowed. “So sorry to interrupt you,” she said quietly. Zelda didn’t know why Paya was intimidated by her, but she had an inkling it had to do with Impa’s abrasive attitude. “I was told I could find you here.”
“You’re fine, Paya,” Zelda replied with a smile she couldn’t see. “Am I needed?”
“My grandmother wanted me to tell, to tell you that everyone has left. You can come back now,” she bowed once again and ran off in a direction that wasn’t the house where they were both staying. Zelda got her book from the ground and made her way back to Impa’s house. She wouldn’t call Paya out for her for nothing but also, she would.
She closed the door behind her, Impa in her usual seat. Her eyes were closed, but she spoke, “I don’t mean to intrude my queen-,”
Zelda cut her off, “Call me Zelda. Please. We’ve been friends for over 100 years now.” Impa had a small smile on her face, most likely throwing her off from what she was going to say.
She licked her lips, seeming to try to recollect herself. “It seems you’ve gained yourself sense of humor while you were off in the Spirit Realm”
“I had time to think of everything I’d tell everyone when I first saw them.” Link was the only one left to check off.
���As I was saying,” Impa continued, “you have the respect of everyone. You cannot afford to lose it when your kingdom is so fragile. You can’t seem uninterested in the affairs of the people, or the people will lose hope. Nobody will steal the throne from you, but it’ll be harder to govern if you’re not the face everyone sees leading these choices.” Zelda felt like she was getting scolded by her father, the same buzz of shame vibrating through her core. Only difference was that Impa knew. Her father just guessed.
“I wish someone would try to take the throne from me,” Zelda sighed, looking down at the floor.
“You still have fight left in you?”
“No.” Zelda shook her head, looking back at her old friend. “I’d let them keep it.”
“You’re not an heir to nothing, you know that, right?” Impa asked her for the third time since Ganon was taken down. Zelda thought about Riju and all the little kids in Karakiko village who had lived their whole lives watching darkness radiate from Hyrule Castle until her and Link locked it away.
“I’m starting to believe it.”
Link got to Karakiko a few days after the higher ups left. The last time she spent a lot of time with him was when they went to Zora’s Domain to investigate Vah Ruta. They didn’t find any clues before Zelda had to come back to Karakiko to attend meetings. Even then, most of the talking was done by Zelda and pointing out things she saw when she was fighting Ganon. There wasn’t a lot to talk about with strangers.
She saw him early in the morning after leaving the bedroom she shared with Paya. Her hair was in a messy braid and she rushed to let it loose. “Good morning, Link,” she told him. He bowed from where he stood at the wall, and it made her think of when he was her royal guard. He still wore it often even if there wasn’t a team to match with.
Zelda looked around the room but saw that Impa wasn’t in her usual spot and at that time in the morning, Paya would be off cleaning outside. “Do you know where Impa is?” Link asked her. Her head quickly snapped to look at him.
“I’m not sure,” Zelda looked around as if Impa would be hidden in a small corner of the room. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said. He went back to resting on the wall. “I’ll just wait here.” She felt awkward sometimes being in Impa’s house and doing things without explicitly asking, but she was sure she wouldn’t mind.
“Do you want to come into the kitchen and have breakfast with me?” she asked with her hair out of its braid. “There’s seafood fried rice left over from yesterday.” He looked at her for a moment, his mouth slanted as he thought. “There’s no need for modesty. I know you have quite an appetite. You might not remember, but we were really good friends once.” It stung to say that. Link just gave her a small smile and nodded before following her into the kitchen that was hidden behind sliding screen doors.
Zelda started a fire under the pot to warm the food up and gestured for Link to take a seat on one of the floor pillows. He did it without question which surprised her because he seemed to tiptoe around her. She got another pot to brew tea. One thing she liked about present time is that she got to do things for herself. Usually, she would get interrupted by a maid to let them do any little thing for her and she felt strange saying no. But now, the most someone would ask to do something for her was when Paya asked her if she needed help, and if she said no, Paya didn’t push it. She wondered sometimes if Paya knew how much she appreciated her.
Zelda sat diagonal from Link to wait until one of the things boiled. She purposely avoided sitting across from him because she wouldn’t be able to help stare. That’s most of what she did as they made their way to Zora’s Domain. Spiritually, she had been close to him for the year it took for him to get to her. That was never enough. Now, he was right in front of her and she could reach out and touch his face with consequences.
“How were the meetings?” Link asked, tapping his fingers on the lowered table. A spark of excitement flashed through her chest.
“Drawn out and boring. I snuck out a few times with Riju I must admit,” she said with a coy smile. Link looked at her with a raised brow. She wondered if he just remembered the parts of her that were all business which is why this confused him. “Impa was a little upset with me, but I’ll make up for it later. Everything is still,” she stopped talking. She didn’t know how to describe everything.
“Too much?” Link tried to finish.
Zelda nodded. “Yes. Too much.” Even then, too much wasn’t enough to describe all the feelings in her body.
“You were excited to start reconstruction,” Link reminded her. She was. The minute she could breathe in the Hyrule air and hold petals in her hand, she knew she was back where she belonged. It was her job and duty to nurture and love her kingdom.
But it got hard. Quick.
Not even a month went by before the reality of everything started to slow her down and now, she could barely lift a finger to do anything. The idea of being queen and bringing Hyrule to glory under her leadership slowly formed itself into a constant reminder that she was queen because her father was dead. There wouldn’t have been a need for reconstruction if she had unlocked her powers sooner. If she had admitted things to herself sooner so many people could’ve lived much longer than what they did.
Zelda looked at Link’s face while his eyes were drawn down to his hands. He had a new scratch on his cheek. It wasn’t deep, and it had scabbed up already in a thin line. Zelda said, “I think I was just a lot more joyful when we first won and now I see the cost of a delayed victory. So many people died.” Zelda sighed as she thought of the census they delivered to her at one of the meetings. “Hyrule has such a low population I could invite everyone to live at the castle once we figure out how to get rid of the malice.” Link smiled like he did a hundred years ago when they’d joke around. It brought so much comfort to her that she didn’t want to take her eyes off of it, even when he caught her looking.
“Maybe start off with Castle Town.”
Impa returned soaked in water. Link and Zelda were in the main area of the house talking when she walked in. Paya was frantically rushing to get her to her room to change, but Impa scowled at her. “Paya, let me greet Link first.” Impa slowly walked to the middle of the room where Link stood, and he seemed amused with the situation. “Good to see that you’re back. Let me get settled and we’ll have a private talk in the kitchen over tea.” Link who unknowingly to Impa just drank two cups, simply nodded. Impa and Paya headed into one of the rooms, Zelda looking at Link who was now stretching.
Zelda couldn’t help but ask, “Is this about your secret mission.” Link let out quick chuckle.
“I guess you can say that,” he said. His mouth fell open in a quick moment of remembrance as he a muttered a quick oh and started to search through his bag. He pulled out a familiar red book and handed it to Zelda, “This is yours.” Zelda stared between the fragile book spine and Link’s eyes. Zelda then took it and opened it to the first page to confirm what it was.
“How?” she asked in awe. “After all these years?” Link didn’t say anything, but he seemed glad to have brought it back to her. Zelda started to flip through many pages at once, recognizing her handwriting that differed depending on her anxiousness or excitement of the peculiar days. It was more than half empty as she just started it a year or so before the calamity hit.
There was one page she had to stop to look at. In the corner of a page, she had drawn an all-too-familiar sword next to a Silent Princess flower, the letter L written in cursive in different sizes all over it. It was one of the last times she had written. She quickly shut it, her cheeks warm. “Did you read it?” she asked, refusing to look at him. There was a silence and then there was Impa loudly making her way into the main room.
“Off to the kitchen with you, boy,” she said, pushing Link away from her.
10 notes · View notes
mrneighbourlove · 4 years
Text
The Rising Sun: Ch 7. Hail the King
Donoma did not know who was worse for presentation; her brother or her father. Both of them had a flare for the dramatics. With a huge sigh, Donoma asked again, "Dad, I'm telling you, you look fine, can we go now?"
“I have to look absolutely flawless.” Malik took the cucumber off his face, moving over to his selection of robes and armour. “Which one do you concur?”
"You're as bad as Ganondorf and he's the one who has to look pretty all the time. Even more so than Zelda did." Donoma rolled her eyes and then she gestured to the golden armor her mother had made all those years ago. "I know this one is your favorite. Mom made it for you. I'd say either wear that one or just walk out in nothing but underwear. That'd make a statement. You know, like Revan did when he got drunk for the first time."
“I just want this to go right.”
"It's going to go fine, I mean, all you got to do is strut out there, say some fancy stuff, and they'll cheer, and be happy." Donoma held up a black robe for him to wear underneath the armor. "I mean, unless you fart really loud, I doubt it could go wrong."
“Donoma...” Malik gave her a look as he got dressed.
"What? Just trying to lighten the mood." Donoma shrugged her shoulders. "You look and sound so serious. Everything you've helped with concerning the town, the people already love you, so just... chill."
“You sure you aren’t deflecting your own feelings on becoming a middle child?”
"Nah, more so worried about you and Mom becoming like... parents again when you should be grandparents in a few years." Donoma admitted. "Though it will work out for the best."
“Oh?” Malik jumped on that immediately. “Found someone have you?”
"Not me, but Mom swears that Nakeso and Revan will get hitched soon."
“Really now? That seems...” Malik decided not to finish that thought. “Well, you’re right. We should be going.” To complete his set, Malik placed a royal helmet atop his head. “No more distractions. Let us be off.”
"That's what she said, I have no idea where she developed the ability to see the future." Donoma stood from the chair. "All right, let's go."
The whole Town was in celebration, watching in anticipation for Malik to enter the spiritual grounds of the temple. The statue of the Sand Goddess smiled down upon them all as Malik made his way through the crowd. They didn’t cheer out of respect for the grounds, but smiled in happiness for the event at hand.
An older shaman stood at the end as Malik stood on a sun carpet. “Lord Malik. You have dedicated your entire life to the restoration of the Gerudo people. You have lived, died, and lived again for all of us. No other man is worthy of the title of King of the Gerudo. Do you, the people, accept Malik as our King?”
The entire chamber echoed. “We do. With all our hearts.”
“And do you, Malik, promise to put the Gerudo people first.”
“I do.”
“Then take off your helmet so I may place upon you the crown jewel.”
Malik did so, taking his head gear off. The shaman then carefully took off his Gerudo jewel, placing it in her pocket for safe keeping. Walking to a box, she took out a perfect diamond. Placing it on Malik’s head, she nodded. “This diamond was taken from the heart of a Kryat Dragon native to the desert, an apex predator long ago. It is a symbol of might and mastery. With this, I dub you King Malik!”
Asakonigei wanted to attend the celebration, but now, both Doctor Boveir and some of the midwives had agreed that she be on strict bedrest. So, she patiently waited for her husband to come visit after his grand moment. She was still miffed about his apparent decision without her. As much as she tried, the Kovina could not imagine life out here in the desert. Her relatives were not here. Her friends were not here. There was hardly any metal for her to morph. It seemed insane to Asakonigei, to move away from all they had built as a family in Hyrule. Yet, she also wanted her husband to be happy. It was a nuisance, all this planning. He said he wanted more time with her. Now, as a 'ruler' of these Gerudo women, he'd have less time than he thought he would. It still did not make sense to her.
Though she had little time to think of sense. Her sheets were wet. Lifting up the blanket, she saw that her water had broke. Taking a nervous breath, she informed her attendant. "Please... go get my husband. Tell him his child is about to be born."
As if fate got its jollies out of cruelty, a wave of pain filled Asa’s being. This baby would be anything but easy.
Asakonigei knew she could not panic, but she was afraid. Though, it would not do her any good here. She managed to slide off the bed, 'sitting' on her knees. Holding the sheets, she gripped the fabric tightly as contractions came with a vengeance. Removing her decorative leather tie, she bit on the material and groaned loudly, her eyes watering. It was hard to breathe through such pain.
As she struggled, the baby struggled, stretching and hurting their mother in its journey to escape. Meanwhile, as Malik was ready to address the townsfolk, Gali pushed her way through the crowd to make her way to the King. “King Malik. It’s your wife!” Malik’s eyes expanded with a golden ferocity at the interruption. He knew Gali wouldn’t alert him unless the baby was coming.
Shouting an order in Gerudo, every woman scattered at his command. They would not celebrate until his wife was safe and sound with his child healthy in her arms.
Donoma had rushed to help her mother. She fetched warm water, blankets, anything necessary that the women told her to obtain. Even a few of the midwives were already there, trying to coach Asakonigei into breathing properly and making her as comfortable as possible. The women had heard her cries of pain and knew what was happening. As soon as Malik entered the tent, a few of the women tried to get him to wait outside.
“No. I’m not abandoning her now.” Malik made his way beside Asa, holding her hand. When he looked down, his stomach churned. “She’s bleeding.”
Gali had her hands rolled up, scrambling with the other nurse maids. “I know.”
Asakonigei was half-dazed with pain, but she recognized Gali. Grabbing the woman's hand with a crunching grip, she managed to pant, "Remember... what I asked... of you."
“I know. I’ll keep it.”
Malik looked at Asa, watching the colour slowly drain from her face. “No. You can’t give up.”
"I won't..." Asakonigei closed her eyes and tried to choke back a whimper. Blood was freely flowing now. Dear spirits, it was agony, but she managed to steel her nerves but gripping the sheets, nearly ripping the fabric. "... let my baby die..."
“No. I will not allow it.”
“King Malik, there are some things-!”
Malik didn’t let Gali defy his will. Slowly, he put one hand on Asakonigei’s womb. The other he raised to the heavens. If he held the power of a god, then he was fit to wield it as he saw fit. And he would not lose a second wife. The Triforce of Power glowed, and taking from the cosmos Malik willed life into Asa. This baby would survive, and she would live to see it. Although the energy was warm, the Gerudo were astonished and fearful to see the light flow through Malik and into his wife.
Zarazu was in the process of packing a care bag for her friend. Hearing that Asakonigei was pregnant again certainly was shocking at their age, but nonetheless, every woman would appreciate some fresh diapers and blankets. The queen was checking their closet for the missing breast sling when she heard her husband suddenly yell. Rushing back to the sleeping chamber, she found Covarog on his side, grasping at his chest. His face looked ashen and he was struggling to breath. "I... m-my..." The king gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks from the sudden pain. "M-My heart..."
"COVAROG!!!" Zarazu flung herself down beside her husband and held his face. She was barely holding onto common sense. "What's... what's going on?! Is your chest tight? Can you not breathe?! Tell me!"
"Mom!" Luimaya poked her head into tent and her eyes went wide at the sight of her father on the ground. "Dad?!?! What's going on?!"
"Your father suddenly fell, I don't know what could be causing---...!!!!!" Zarazu had a horrible realization. What if... the Tri-Force was connected to Ganondorf's blood... including her husband? His siblings? If Malik would use the magic, spend it all... "Go get Malik!"
"But Asa is---!!!"
"NOW!!!"
Revan watched in horror at the King collapsing. Snapping out of it enough, he looked around and shouted to the staff. “King Covarog needs medical attention! Go!!!”
While Zarazu was trying to calm her husband, Asakonigei was still in discomfort but at least now, it was manageable. She felt light-headed, but tried her hardest to focus. Was it the blood loss? The voices were drowning in and out of her ears, like an echo. Gali was demanding that she push with all she had. Malik was... glowing. That was odd. Maybe she really was starting to see things. The Kovina did not even realize she was screaming so loud, but finally, the baby was born... a baby boy.
Gali caught the baby, and the Gerudo quickly and surgically cut the cords connecting the two. Malik looked down at the baby, stunned by the gender of the baby. A boy? Did will a son into existence? “Asa. Are you alright?”
Asakonigei was half-conscious. While the magic saved her, she still experienced blood loss and excruciating pain. She could barely understand what was going on around her. Still, she managed to formulate a response. "I th-think... I'm going to f-faint..."
“Our son Asa. We have a son.” Malik looked to Donoma, his hand still glowing as he kept his hand on Asa with a smile. “You have a baby brother now.”
Donoma was keeping a rag on her mother's head, trying to help her stay conscious. She was not expecting a baby brother, that was for sure. Usually Gerudos were predominantly female. "He is... anogite..." Asakonigei was having a hard time remembering Hylian for a moment. "Gifted to us... by the spirits, with love..."
Yet, before the moment could be cherished, Luimaya busted into the tent. "Malik!!! M-My dad... my dad collapsed!!! Mom's trying to help him, he can't breathe!!! H-H-He keeps saying his-" She had to take an inhale through the tears. "His heart!!!"
“Princess, calm yourself around my wife and baby! What are you talking about? How did you even get here?” With a snap of his finger, he pointed Donoma to the princess. “Donoma, help her.” Malik walked over to his son, carefully cradling him. A name. He needed to think of a name.
"It all started just a few minutes ago!" Luimaya was rambling, her emotions high and she was clearly afraid for her father. "I heard Dad yell, and then I saw him on the floor with Mom! She screamed at me to get you and to tell you to 'stop using it'!"
"Stop using what?" Donoma took over her friend's care as soon as Gali had her mother situated.
"I don't know!"
Gali was slowly feeding Asa water to regain her strength. “Minutes ago? Princess, that’s so far away.”
"I don't give a shit how far away it was, it seemed like minutes maybe it was seconds, I don't know, my father is in trouble, please, please, please my mother needs you!!!" Luimaya was a sobbing mess.
Malik noticed his son start to grow distraught as Luimaya’s emotions flared. Good. He was already connected with the emotions of others. Still, he should not be sad on his first day of life. “Luimaya. I will join you, but you have to give me time here first. You came at a closed window of opportunity.”
"Go with her." Asakonigei finally managed to regain some of her rational thought. Thanks to Gali and the water in her body, the Kovina felt slightly better. She was sore, but very worried at Luimaya's obvious distress. "Our queen needs you. I'm all right. Your son is all right. Gali will take care of me."
“Your Queen.” Malik looked down at his son, watching the light glisten off his red hair. He had his hair. Everyone watched in anticipation at what Malik would do next. Carefully brushing his hair, looked to Luimaya. Her tears were still falling down her face as he decided on his next course of action. “Asa... look after… Takunova. I won’t be long.”
"I'll tell her she said that, and... she'll kick your butt." Asakonigei said in her old sense of dry humor. "Takunova will be fine with me and Gali. I trust these women to help me. Go. Our family needs you."
"Th-Thank you..." Luimaya managed to speak shakily, her nerves shot. She didn't want to lose her father.
Malik held her shoulders gently, massaging them to calm her nerves. “Now. How do we get to him quickly?”
"H-He's with M-Mom in their tent." Luimaya swallowed hard. "Carca'sec flew me here. He n-never leaves my side."
“Then we’ll fly back to Hyrule. Calm your emotions, and hope Carca’sec can complete the greatest sprint of his life. Let us be off.”
~
Revan never got a chance to accompany Luimaya back to Hyrule. She left too quickly as he was helping Castle staff help Zarazu and Covarog with the crisis. Worried out of his mind, all Revan could do was pace outside the king’s room.
Covarog was sweating profusely while lying in bed. Doctor Boveir along with several Dusas were in the room, trying their best to keep the king stable. Not even the magic of the healing Dusas was working. Zarazu had never seen anything like it. The Dusas were known for being able to fix several ailments, even heart attacks, but nothing was working.
"Revan!!!" Luimaya ran down the hallway, nearly colliding with her friend as she awaited his news. "What's going on? Is Dad okay?! Where's Mom?!"
“They’re both here! Luimaya, where did-” When he saw his father stroll in, he stopped in his tracks. He had dried blood on his hands and the most serious look on his face. “Father?”
“Where is King Covarog?”
"I went to fetch your father on Carsa'sec." Luimaya hurriedly explained to Revan. "Mom ordered me to get him."
Malik paused before the door, taking one last look at Revan before entering. “You have a baby brother now and your mother is still alive.” With that revelation hanging, Malik entered the chamber of Hyrule’s royalty, where Covarog was resting bedside.
Zarazu looked stricken with worry. It was evident she had been crying at one point, but was trying to hold it together for the sake of her children. There, she sat in a chair beside of Covarog's bed. He was unconscious, wheezing with each breath. As soon as Malik entered the room, the Lorleidian queen looked slightly relieved.
“What happened you...” Malik watched Covarog wheeze and gasp for air. Repeating the question, he looked to his wife. “What happened to him?”
"This happened... as soon as one of the Gerudo women, Gali, I believe, used the Water Mirror I lent her to message me about Asa's labor." Zarazu spoke softly, trying not to start her tears again. "I believe... the curse that has haunted Ganondorf, Zelda, and Rinku for ages is now trying to harm my husband. It is tied to Ganondorf's blood..." She took a breath and shakily said, "His bloodline."
“Cosmic fate can be cruel Zarazu.” Malik carefully walked over to Covarog’s bedside, looking down at the man he considered a nephew. Carefully, he whispered into his ear. “Covarog. Can you hear me?”
There was no response from the king. He was heavily medicated by Doctor Boveir and the healers trying to keep his discomfort to a minimum. His skin was paling and there were dark circles forming under his eyes. It was so unusual to see the mighty king brought to this state. "Cosmic fate be damned, he doesn't deserve this." Zarazu held her husband's hand tightly. "He hasn't done anything to deserve this."
“Cosmic fate?” Malik slowly trailed his hand over Covarog’s heart, the Triforce of Power glowing. He wanted to desperately heal the man, but something knocked at him not to try, least he cause more damage. “Is he stable?”
"For now." Zarazu nodded. "I'm just... trying to figure out how these pieces work." She looked at her hand, seeing the Wisdom triangle glowing at her. "Now I'm afraid to even use my piece. What if I hurt Kanisa? Or Orana? One of their children? Ralnor?"
“Why would you hurt them? That’s a choice on your part.”
"Not intentionally, but Zelda is... was..." Zarazu corrected her words. "Linked to the Wisdom piece of the Tri-Force. What if... when I use it, it has a negative impact on Kanisa or Orana? If they were supposed to get the piece and not me?"
“Where are you going with this? The goddesses... I’m certain they don’t act like that. If you weren’t worthy of the piece, I doubt it’d stay with you for long.”
"That's exactly my point, Malik." Zarazu turned to look at her friend, taking her eyes of her husband only for a moment. "What if the goddesses are still trying to find a way to punish Ganondorf, Zelda, and Rinku after all this time? If the piece falls into someone's hands that is not them, what will it do? What if it still haunts their descendants even after all this time of peace?"
“There have been others in our history who have wielded the Triforce with peace and prosperity. King Daphnes of Hyrule, The Fabled Time Witches, the Sages. I’m certain we are chosen for this. We are the keepers of the Triforce until Ganondorf and Zelda rise again. I know we can only do good with them; we can save lives.”
"... what if... Ganondorf and Zelda are not going to rise again?" Zarazu questioned Malik. "The same for Rinku. That is why the Tri-Force could be doing this."
“That’s paranoia. I thought the same once. Waiting for Ganondorf for so long made me question my views.” Malik looked down to Covarog, sighing. “I can’t help him more than the doctors here or you can.”
"Paranoia... or intuition." Zarazu squeezed Covarog's hand, kissing his knuckles. "Doctor Boveir told me there's nothing else he can do. My Dusas', their magic isn't working upon him. It has to be part of the curse. The only way to stop a curse is... a sacrifice."
Malik looked up to the glass stain sealing, taking a deep breath of regret. Ganondorf often got what he wanted with the Triforce of Power by sacrificing others. The sacrifice of the self could work, but was rare. “You’re right... there is a way, but your family would hate me for it.”
"... not you, Malik." Zarazu carefully summoned the piece of Wisdom and... set it on the nightstand. She was not going to take a chance of the Tri-Force piece influencing the magic she was born with from birth. "Long ago, people came to Lorleidi to seek help with curses. Even though a lot of the spells have been lost to history, there are a few still known."
“Zarazu... I could do it for you. I could cipher the life you have into Covarog. You don’t need to do that for-!!!” The moment Malik saw Zarazu separated her piece from herself and put it on the nightstand, his hand burn with light. There was a hunger to become whole. Grasping his hand, he hid it behind his cape. “I saved Asa, I could save Covarog. Don’t take the risk yourself.”
"I... I think what you did to save Asa somehow hurt Covarog. I... I can't risk using my piece. I don't want you to use your piece either unless it is necessary." Zarazu stood from her seat and asked Malik. "Please... leave me with him."
“No. How can you say that of me?” That stunned Malik that Zarazu could even think of accusing him of hurting the King. “You didn’t bring me all this way to throw accusations at me. You called me to help him. If you are willing to part some of your life energy, I can do that.”
"I am not accusing you, Malik. I know you would never, ever do such a thing intentionally to hurt Covarog." Zarazu said softly. "He is your family. Yet, I can't shake the feeling that these Tri-Force pieces... something is wrong." She then said. "Life energy will not fix this. The Dusas already tried." She started summoning the ancient runes from her wrists. "Yet tying his life to mine... just might."
“If you will not let me help, then you’ve wasted my time. My wife needs me. My baby needs me.”
"Damn it, Malik, I did not summon you here to waste your time!" Zarazu lost her composure for a moment and snapped. "I asked you here for your support! To warn you of using the pieces of the Tri-Force, to show you what happened. Something is wrong and I know it! I don't want anyone else getting hurt. I don't want you getting hurt either!"
“I know that overly using the Triforce is dangerous! I’m practically a historian on the subject! But these are tools that we can’t be afraid of using, because if we are, they will use us. Or worse, we will lose them to those who have more malicious intents in their hearts.” Malik pointed to the Triforce of Wisdom on the table. “Are you afraid of the responsibility? Because I will carry it if you can’t.” Malik then aggressively pointed at himself. “A mortal gets consumed by the power and you think that of me? I am the power. I am the one who saves innocents and destroys enemies.”
The Gerudo King paused, taking a moment to choose his words. “If I did this to Covarog... I’m so sorry. But... I did it to save my wife and child. A wife who I barely managed to save. Now you want my support? Then let me save him.”
“Luimaya needs her mother to guide her for her destiny. I can’t allow you take what time you have left with her away.” Malik clenched his fist, ready to take action if need be. “Make the wise choice on your own and have me ciphen life into him. Ba’Puu. Myself. I can always restore my own life. But if you can’t make that choice for yourself, I’ll make it for you. It’ll be quicker, easier.”
"... you said yourself once that power was addictive. Like a drug. Once, you even said you feared if you had another dose of such power, you would revert to your old self. The 'Blade of the Gerudo'. Klinge." Zarazu froze the runes in midair. "I gave you your new life. I won't be responsible for you risking yourself."
“... Don’t you dare disturb me again.” Malik released his grip and turned to walk out the door. He could feel the near future; see the path that lied before him. Zarazu wasn’t the face of Hyrule anymore. “I can’t change your mind. It seems you’ve replaced wisdom with foolishness on this matter. But I have nothing more to say. As King of the Gerudo, I’ll have to work directly with your successor.”
"... still so angry after all this time, my old friend. When will you learn?" Zarazu sounded... sad. "Maybe one day, you too, will be able to find peace." Activating the runes, the Lorleidian queen said, "This spell will not kill me. It will only give half of my remaining years to my husband. When he dies... I will die too."
“I’m past angry. I’m just tired. Now. I have a child to see.” Malik opened the door, not looking back as he shut it closed behind him. Waste of his time. Coming out of his thoughts and back into reality, he didn’t realize the rest of the family had gathered to wait on them. “Luimaya. Your mother is going to cut her life in half to save your father. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t convince her to see another path.”
"....?!?!?! It's... it's that bad?" Luimaya looked grief stricken. She was squeezing Revan's hand so hard for comfortable. Biting her lip, the princess took a moment to collect her thoughts. The princess did not want to lose either of her parents. Though, she knew that her mother would not live long without her father either. Dying of heartbreak was real. "Mom loves Dad. She'd do anything for him. I... understand why she's doing this."
Malik sighed deeply, reflecting on his thoughts. “I’d have done the same. I’ll have to teach you when she’s gone....”
“Dad?”
“Nothing. Care for those you love. Tell them how you feel. You might never get the chance again. I’m going to go home now.”
"... you shouldn't have yelled at her." Turagor was there with his sister. He had been listening in on the conversation between Malik and his mother. Something was going on that the heirs to the crown did not know about, and he did not like it. It seemed Luimaya's twin had picked up some sneaky habits from his dear old uncle. "You wouldn't try to stop Mom from doing this unless there was a good reason. What aren't you telling us?"
"...? Turagor?" Luimaya looked at her brother, confused. "What do you mean?"
"They're hiding something." Turagor stated simply to his sister, wanting an answer from the old friend of the family. "Malik and Mom spoke of 'your destiny'. I've heard rumors from Uncle Ralnor's office and Leere talking to something in the walls about a prophecy concerning you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you, and from what little I know, I don't like it." Turagor gave Malik a hard look. "Ganonpa giving the Tri-Force piece to you and not Dad. Grandmama giving the Tri-Force piece to Mom and not Orana or Kanisa. Rinku not having any big and bad foe to fight in all these years. Something isn't right and I want to know what's going on, especially if it concerns our family."
"Turagor, now isn't the time---"
"It is the time!" He insisted. "Dad's dying! Mom's trying to save him! She's insisting something is wrong with the Tri-Force pieces! Said she feels it with her own magic. Like... like the Tri-Force is decaying! There's an unbalance. That's what she said!"
“Boy. Sit. Down.” Every word that left Malik escalated into more powerful, cold shade that commanded Turagor to be silent. “I am the keeper of Power because I am more worthy of it then anyone else. Your mother is the keeper of Wisdom because she makes the hardest choices no one else will... and you do not speak of destiny unless you wish to provoke the gods into granting us all a terrible threat. It is not the time because I say it’s not the time.”
“Dad, we-”
Revan grew quiet when Malik raised a hand to silence the room. After a few moments, he continued. “If the Triforce is “decaying” then that is an illusion. The Triforce itself acts as a beacon of life, holding our world together. And there has been imbalance since the dawn of time. It’s how the world is. Now, you will compose yourselves. You will all take a deep breath. And in ten minutes, when your mother is done her work, you will go see your father. Now answer me, do I make myself clear? Do you understand? Can I get a yes from you?”
Turagor continued to glare at Malik. He was not afraid of the man. The young prince was angry about the whole situation. If his fearful grandfather was so worried of the past repeating itself, then he should have given the Tri-Force of Power to another family member besides Covarog to keep it within Hyrule walls. Knowing of Malik's past, Klinge's past, he thought the decision was a bad one. He agreed with his Aunt Rinku and his mother. The magic felt different. There was discord in the world. Why did no one else seem to sense it?
"You're the keeper of power because my grandfather is daft in his age. I believe my mother. Something is wrong with the Tri-Force. If you're trying to get me to believe it's an illusion, then tough luck." Turagor stated with gritted teeth. "And if you try to use it again, something worse will happen. Don't speak to me like I'm a child."
"Turagor! Please!" Luimaya was not in the right frame of mind for arguing. "Whatever secret is being held can be discussed another time. We need to support Mom."
"I'm done." Turagor threw up his hands and tromped in the direction of the medical bay. "I'm going to get Doctor Boveir in case some other shit is stirred up by those damnable relics. If anything, the man can at least restart a heart."
"Turagor, come back---"
"I need a minute, Luimaya. I'll be back." Down the hallway, Turagor was gone.
"... Malik... I know you don't believe Mom, but... what if she is right..." Luimaya had no energy to argue, but simply speculated. "The ruler of the Lorleidians is magic incarnate. If she says something is wrong, maybe... it's best to exercise caution. Not only for you, but Rinku and Mom as well. If..." She swallowed, not wanting to make Malik upset, but had to state her honest thoughts. "If the magic is unstable... it could end up hurting not only you, but those around you. The Tri-Force of power is not only magic, but a weapon. Please... be careful."
Malik looked at her with almost dead eyes, yet still had a light smile. Turning to an open area free of people, Malik reached a hand out. With the Triforce of Power, he created a portal back to the desert. Everyone could feel the heat as the hot wind blew his cap back. "Luimaya. The Triforce of Power is a part of me. If it is a weapon, so am I. But know that when you become Queen, I will watch over you in your time of need." Reaching down, he pulled her in for a hug. Letting go, he patted his stunned son on the shoulder and walked through back into his home.
Revan couldn't move. He didn't know what to say.
When Malik opened the portal, Covarog released a piercing scream. Zarazu was working hard with her magic, but the entire process was fighting her. Battling a curse was a difficult feat that few could master. Luimaya nearly jumped out of her skin and felt her heart sink. Was her mother... correct? As Malik said his goodbyes, the princess stood there in shock. There were so many unanswered questions. She was upset, she was afraid, but most of all... she was furious. "Revan..." Luimaya had a stoic expression upon her visage. "We need to talk to Uncle Ralnor."
"I- I don't-" Revan couldn't find the words to express his emotion he was feeling as his stomach churned inside. Quickly, though, he found himself sitting back down.
"Your father says he will watch over me... but he's not giving me the answers I require. I am tired of my own family hiding whatever this secret is from me." Luimaya knew in her heart that her parents were not returning to the throne after this incident. Her father would be weakened. Her mother would have few remaining years. It was her time. The coronation would have to take place firstly, but for now, she had to handle issues while her parents were occupied. "My first order as your queen-in-waiting," She commanded. "Find out what they are hiding from me. Whether it be my own family, friends... even your father. Then take your dragon, As'wana, to the desert to check on your mother."
"I... as you command." Revan got up, taking a deep breath. "I think your first bet is to seek out the sages. They aren't necessarily bounded to the crown, but to the greater good of Hyrule."
"... do you think my Aunt Zizi would have answers?"
"Perhaps. Or Lady Leere or Rinku." Revan finished gathering his spirit, and stood tall. "I will gather what I can. But I think you should see your father first."
"I'll wait until Mom is finished." Luimaya looked at the closed doors. "I can sense her working still. The curse is strong."
“The Triforce is holy in nature. And the curse of Demise shouldn’t affect your father. I fear something far more sinister and twisted is at work here...”
"Even holy objects can still cause death. Holy magic causes the death of darkness. But this... this is something else." Luimaya did not know how else to say it. "While the curse of Demise is not with my father, perhaps there is another one upon the Tri-Force. To drain the life of those connected to Ganondorf and Zelda. If I have a destiny, and this destiny is so important that I cannot know it," She stated her conclusion, "Then if my father was gone, the next person to be affected would be me. If I was gone, then this destiny of mine could not be fulfilled. I believe... something or someone... is going to come after me for a reason. And I need to know why."
~
Malik stepped through the portal and back onto Gerudo land. It appears he didn’t startle anyone with his appearance. Immediately, he looked at the Golden Triforce on his arm. Was he responsible for Covarog’s pain? No. He couldn’t be. There was something else at work trying to divide the keepers of the Triforce. And, in time, he’d find out what. When his people saw them, they were all worried and confused as to why he left, and how he returned so quickly. “My people. King Covarog suffered a heart attack. I wish to inform you he is stable though. Despite this, today is a day of celebration. But keep the King of Hyrule in your hearts.”
With that announcement, Malik marched his way to see his wife, daughter, and now newborn son.
"This is quite a new look for you, Mom." Donoma had stayed with her mother, trying to help with Takunova. "To tell you the truth, I didn't really expect... well, this." The young woman held up a strand of her mothers formerly black hair. There was one, long streak of gold there now. Solid gold. "Do you think it's the influence of the magic?"
"Either way, I'm not digging the blonde." Asakonigei was resting in bed, holding Takunova against her breast. The little boy was suckling, content to be warm and fed. "I might cut it off."
"What if grows back blonde?"
"... then I suppose I'll dye it."
Malik entered the bedroom, patting Gali on the back for a job well done looking after them. “Asa... blonde isn’t a bad look you know.”
"I look like I'm trying to be a teenager again. You do remember when your own son had the brilliant idea to dye his hair red and it turned purple?"
"Oh spirits, that was hilarious." Donoma giggled. "He sulked for days."
“Indeed.” Malik pulled a chair close, looking at his son fondly. “Is he safe? Are you both alright?”
"Takunova is doing fine." Asakonigei patted her newborn's back gently as he fed. "He hasn't cried. It's a little odd to me, both Revan and Donoma cried. But he's been really quiet and seems to just look at everyone and everything with his beautiful blue eyes. I think he at least got that from me." She chuckled. "Taku, say hello to your father."
"And Mom is fine as well." Donoma added. "So far, she's just a little sore."
“That’s good. Can I hold him?”
"Support his head." Asakonigei reminded her husband as she carefully handed Taku to him. "Isn't he a handsome boy?"
“He is. He has my look.” Malik looked to his daughter, smiling. “Yours too.”
"You mean the red hair?" Donoma asked with a grin. "Revan's going to be jealous."
"Hey now, there's nothing wrong with black hair."
"And blonde now."
"Oh hush."
“I’m just happy you are all fine and well.”
"He's healthy, I'm fine, we're all good." Asakonigei assured her husband. "Is our queen all right? Her husband?"
“Covarog... Covarog has suffered a heart attack.”
"....?!?! What?!" Asakonigei sat up straighter in bed. "Is he all right? How did this happen?! What about Zarazu?!"
“He is alive. That’s what matters. As for Zarazu and her family, of course they are distraught.”
"What did our queen say? She summoned you for a reason."
“She wanted to see if I could save him. I couldn’t.”
"Covarog has always been in great health. This could not have happened randomly..."
“No. Zarazu believes that by me saving your life, I took from his unknowingly.” Malik let Takunova play with his finger, telling himself that he’d have done it again.
"... because... of the Tri-Force?"
“That’s what she believes. I think it’s only made to appear so... which is far more frightening to me.”
"It's possible." Asakonigei stated. "You told me a long time ago that the curse from the Golden Goddesses has haunted Gnaondorf, Zelda, and Rinku for centuries. What if now, some sort of curse is being passed to their children? It's the first time this has happened."
“No. Absolutely not. The Golden Goddesses have never cursed the Gerudo. That has always been from Ganon- no, Demise. And any dark being before or after.” Malik was very adamant on that fact. “As much as I cursed the Gods for favouring the Hylians, that... that came from my own hate of feeling the Gerudo have always struggled. No thanks to Ganon over the millennias.”
"... what if they did curse them now?" Asakonigei felt horrible for her queen. She had to be absolutely terrified of losing Covarog. "The Seven Siblings, our spirits, warned the first queen of our people long ago not to let the Sacred Relics fall into evil's hand. Ganondorf took them. You saw what happened to Lorleidi."
“The Spirits of Hyrule added us during the battle against Vul’kar. They liberated the Hasai to align with Hyrule. The Gods are not angry with us.” Malik almost hissed. “We’ve been nothing but loyal to them.” Malik gently rocked his newborn son gently to ease his own stress. “We have enemies Asa. Enemies that’d love to see our faith shaken.”
"You once cursed the goddesses. Sometimes, even deities have their reasoning... if it's not the deities, then who?"
“We have plenty of devils lying in the shadows.”
"If you're referring to that snake, I highly doubt he's an enemy."
“No. No I’m not.” Malik held his child close. He had his suspicions, but he dared not speak any names.
"Keeping me in the dark is not going to make me feel any better, Malik." Asakonigei stated and then gave him a look. "You've done that before and you know I don't like it. If you have a gut feeling, you best share it now. This enemy could be influencing the Tri-Force for all we know."
“I won’t say names... but it could be what the snake refers to as a Destroyer... or the being that nearly killed us before any of our children were born Asakonigei.”
"Destroyer... why does that sound so familiar?" Asakonigei thought long and hard. "There was a tell that my grandfather used to say. Aguguq the Maker and Malsumis the Destroyer. Together, they served... the Mother Goddess; Amotkena."
"Lorleidians have always believed in several deities. The Seven Siblings. The Goddess of Death and God of Life. The Golden Goddesses. Yet, we never spoke much of the Mother Goddess and the Two Brothers." Asakonigei almost gave a shudder. "Usually because... where Mother Goddess is concerned, I remember my grandfather said there was always discord which hid in her shadow."
“As long as you all stay by my side, I promise death won’t reach you before your time.”
"I know, Malik, I trust you, I'm simply just... a little concerned for the future." Asakonigei carefully brushed Takunova's cheek. "More now than ever. Even I can sense there is something amiss in the world. Our magic, Lorleidian magic... is aware."
“Just have faith in the right people.” He looked to his family, smiling. “Can you stand Asa?”
"My legs are still a little wobbly." Asakonigei admitted to her husband. "I feel fine, just... tired, if that makes sense. It's an odd feeling for me. Before, I was exhausted for weeks." She slowly swung her legs to the side and tested her strength. Her knees were shaky but she said, "I'll try. I might need some help."
“Donoma, can you hold your mother up?”
"Of course." Donoma allowed her mother to lean on her, supporting her weight.
"Don't hurt yourself, I know I'm heavy."
"Psh, no heavier than my brother.”
“Tell me Donoma, are you excited to be an older sibling?”, Malik asked his daughter.
"Yes, he's a cute little brother." Donoma nodded her head. "I uh... don't really know what to think of the age gap though."
“Be a guide. Someone he can feel that understands him.”
"That I can do."
“Good. I wish your older brother could be here, but his place is at Luimaya’s side.”
"Oh, he'll come visit. I'm sure. Mom will give him hell if he doesn't."
"That's for sure."
That wasn’t what Malik meant. But for now, he felt no reason to burden them with the strife of the Castle. It didn’t take long when he saw Gali and asked her to gather the townsfolk that his request was addressed. Taking his family to a balcony overlooking the centre of town, he lifted a hand to the sun. “Gerudo! I know that there is concern about the well being of Covarog of Hyrule. I wish to confirm that he still breaths! And while he breaths, we cannot fall into despair. As your new King, I wish to inspire nothing but hope to you. The first steps towards that is building the future. On that not, I wish to introduce you to my newborn son. Takunova!!!”
The people cheered, and despite the horror of Covarog’s heart attack on his mind, Malik felt his soul at ease. Today would be a day of celebration, not strife. And as King of the Gerudo, he would lead them all into a brighter future. Even if that meant burning out darker days.
________________________________________________________________
Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/622772431507062784/the-rising-sun-ch-6-like-father-like-son
Crossover with the wonderful @ridersoftheapocalypse. Great story to tell. 
11 notes · View notes
ashleyswrittenwords · 4 years
Text
How to be a Queen [Part 20]
Summary: Princess Zelda is at a loss. Her handed royal responsibilities have begun to weigh heavily on her and she is eventually backed into a corner. Live a life she loathes or run away from everything she’s ever known? Navigating life is hard, and Link forces her to learn that she doesn’t have to do it alone.
Previous
Next
Part 1
How To Be A Queen
In total, it amounted to three months of attending war cabinet meetings to make my presence known.
The first month spent shadowing the men with the decorative swords before running off to my uncle’s room to make sense of their terms. At first it was intimidating, they paid their respects in short bows yet didn’t acknowledge my being for the long duration of each gathering; ranging from two hours to an entire day. It was as if they were hoping if they hadn’t looked at me, I would disappear into the background.
The room was a matter in itself. If a stranger to the castle had no prior knowledge and mistakenly walked in, its purpose would make itself known immediately. To glorify a place known as a war room would be as to what it was known as and was. It was a recessive area of the castle, tucked down underneath any luxuries I had come to know. Maids and servants were replaced with decorated officers and veterans. The doors were forbidden to remain propped open, even on the most humid of days, and nothing inside was ever to be divulged. This was the only hall of the castle untouched by renovation for it was the place where every war began, and every war ended. The war room was Hyrule’s trigger.
Walls dripped in colors of ancient Hylian war paint; red, black, and gold. Weapons of all kinds were decorated, gilded within a frame. Their owners ranged from daring knights to heroes of old. In the center was a table that spanned the length of the room with intricate carving of legends, although on top was the most important piece. It mirrored an old map on the wall, but this one had black pawns to represent all potential threats. They stood like towers against the terrain with wooden carvings to imitate cavalry and foot-soldiers. Red pawns mirrored these dolls, which stood east of the Gerudo sands.
By the month end, I had every rank of command memorized and each division under each admiral written neatly in a leather-bound book.
It took two weeks for the admirals to meet my eye. The evenings were brimming with careful studies, and once Impa returned, I stole her sleep as well to fill in the gaps of political history that were closed off to me as a child.
Three weeks of my questioning went by until they recovered from the fact that a woman was speaking; an additional week before they had the gall to answer their high princess.
The creases under my eyes were deeper and a newly returned Anju complained about the amount of stress I was putting myself under, but – goddess – the feeling of autonomy was a welcome one. As far as royal propriety went, I was free to do what I pleased and choosing to be included was one I picked easily. Though, this newfound freedom came with its own restraints – its own guilt.
Father was becoming scarcer. With the making of amends between us, he drew more distraught over Uncle Nathaniel’s decaying health. Rarely would I find him outside his bed chambers or his study. Soon, I was asked to bring food to his room, so much so that it became apart of my newfound routine. Most of the day was split between Uncle and his war cabinet. In some sense I was his liaison and he was my mentor. Though, I hoped desperately he would continue to be once he overcome this illness.
My evenings were visiting Father. Some days were better and he would change into proper clothes, others were darker and he hardly had the strength to get out of bed. The latter where I would eat supper in his room and watch over him, hoping he would finish his meal.
Tonight, I suspected, would pose to be darker.
Uncle’s cough was raspy and guttural and his nurse withdrew the spoon of stew. Once it subsided, she fluffed the pillows that propped him up to a seat and scooped a spoonful again. I thumbed the pages of my book between my fingers, distracting myself with the rough texture.
Finally fed up with the doe eyes he was giving the women, I let out a noticeable sigh. “I don’t understand it,” I said once he looked away. Truly, the nurse was beautiful and at last he has found a woman to dote on that wasn’t twenty years younger, but did this flirtation need occur with his niece present?
“Trust me, little one,” his voice was weak and didn’t carry the volume it once had, “If I knew my brother’s mysteries… well, I dare to think I would solve the secret to life itself.”
His light laugh sloped into a coughing fit.
“Dear Tressa,” he put a light hand on the nurse’s arm who smiled warmly at him. “Would you mind fetching me a bed warmer? I fear I will catch a chill.”
She set the stew on his nightstand and excused herself. I took the chance to take her seat as he looked at me with a face that seemed a decade older than when I left the castle. My heart sunk with fear for him.
“You were but a child when your mother passed, and I suspect you took notice in your father’s absence during that mourning period,” he stopped to smooth out his night shirt as if it were his formal wear, “Rhoam is an intelligent man. He holds pride in his crown, as any king of this great country should, but there is a price to pride. Gold is as beautiful as it is blinding. It will confuse you when you lose focus and drag you down. His way of closing off is a form of this.”
I sat with a strained expression that made him pressure me.
“Between your condition and, and Father’s,” irritation sank into my voice, “I feel this is my fault for leaving. Somehow… somehow a punishment of sorts.”
He watched me fold my hands over themselves, “It is not.”
Uncle Nathaniel waited until my hands stilled, “It is not because of you.”
“But-!”
“I won’t hear it,” the sternness in his voice was not what a sick man would possess, and it silenced me. “What you did with that boy was invaluable, Zelda. Did you meet people?”
“Y-yes.”
“Did you face struggles?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have fun? Find beauty in your country? Find beauty in your people?”
My smile wobbled, “Yes. I did.”
“Then your only regret should be that you hadn’t been gone longer.”
I nodded, folding my hands once more in my lap and leaving them.
We let silence fill in and he eventually sighed against his pillows, “It is more than Rhoam has done. You will find that every action in these suffocating walls have their own set of consequences. Without the right people around you-” Uncle stopped and lifted his brow at me, “The throne will pull a veil over your eyes.
“When Mariam died, it did just that. Grief subdued him and the whispers of his advisers wormed in. Fear of a calamity. Fear that he would lose not just a family, but a kingdom. With all the good intentions the priests had, they forced Rhoam to abandon values your mother upheld for him.”
I pressed him, “What do you mean?”
“He was harder on preventing Hyrule’s vulnerabilities from showing. Our pacts with neighboring regions were nullified in effort to create a semblance of self-sufficiency. With that created new problems that he didn’t acknowledge,” he hardened and swallowed dryly. I saw frustration in my uncle.
“The rural Gerudo tribes,” I said suddenly, dread burrowed into me. “Father caused the food shortages.”
My uncle’s eyes left me, but a thin smile met him, “Yes. I remember, years ago when I traveled, going to the far reaches of the desert. The people there were kind, amiable. They saved me from dehydration at a small oasis they build their villages around. I was introduced to their culture, their norms.” When he looked up, the smile gone. “Twenty years later I would be ordering the slaughter of their people.”
A moment strained and I witnessed the anger in his eyes. Slowly, it devolved into remorse and then resolve. “Zelda,” Uncle Nathaniel said, “These people are not primitive. Stereotypes be damned, every man who was there knows that.”
“I-I was under the pretense that they were fanatics, that they-”
“They are a scorned and abandoned people. Try going hungry for months on end,” he sighed, but his anger was present. “Seeing children shriveled up on the side of roads and passing mourning women. Hungry people grow desperate and whoever can bring comfort to that and create the confidence I saw on that sand…”
He grew quiet and looked on to the window where the sun was high. Somberly, he declared, “I fear such a man.”
  When the day drew to a close, I had surprisingly found Father in the parlor of his chambers. I returned his polite smile when I placed a plate of meat and vegetables before him and sat on the loveseat across from him. The hearth between us glowed warmth.
He bookmarked his novel and put it aside, “You’ve been busy today.”
“I keep myself busy,” I said, glancing up to him.
We ate in silence where he would make the occasional comment about the food and I would agree. Once we finished, I let him know about my day. It was something that I hadn’t done for years and within the last couple months has become the norm. As happy as it made me, I wished it was born of different circumstances.
Another new routine between us was reading through requests, filtered by Impa the day before. I picked them up from the cushion beside me and began reading them to my father. He sat silently, sometimes asking me to make notes on responses.
“King Dorephan has written condolences for the general and sends his prayers,” I said, going for the pencil.
“Write back saying great thanks and how we hope for the best,” he paused, “Then give kind regards for the Zoran prince and princess.”
When my writing stilled, I looked up to him. My fingers sealed the envelope with the letter inside to draw out a reply later when Impa was available. “Father,” I started, “May I ask something that is out turn?”
My father blinked in surprise but nodded. “Please do.”
“Why haven’t you seen Uncle Nathaniel?”
There was a beat of quietness that settled as he thought, “Somehow, I suspected you would eventually ask me something to that effect.” He readjusted in his seat and brought his hand to his beard. He breathed in slowly, then out like he did during stressed conferences. “I’m afraid for him.”
I tilted my head in confusion and he took notice.
“The physicians keep saying that he will be on the mend in a matter of weeks. It’s been almost four months, now,” he frowned, in his words were distress. They grew taunt. “It is startlingly similar to what they said about Mariam.”
At that, I looked away and to my skirts. “Oh.”
“I know it’s selfish. It’s just… false hopes are more difficult to lose.”
“Father,” I shook my head. “I understand how you feel, but he asks about you often.” I trailed off, trying to give voice to my feelings and shake off my old fears of overstepping. “I do love you very much and I perhaps if you saw him, it will lift your spirits as well as his.”
The lines in his face were deeper than I remember, then he laughed a laugh that reminded me much of his brother. “Will it quell your worries if I see him at noon tomorrow?”
“Enough to stop me from pestering you further,” I said, warmth growing in my chest at his smile.
“Very well then,” Father glanced at the clock. “I trust you to look over the rest of those papers there for me, Zelda. I must retreat to my bed.”
The warmth grew to the blossoming smile I tried to repress at his words. He trusted me.
“Thank you, Father.”
Promptly, I bid him goodnight and once he was in his bedroom, I took leave as well. In my head, I ran through the list of notes he had given me, nearly running into a servant in the hallway.
“Your Highness, my deepest apologies,” he said, bowing shortly.
“It’s no matter, sir,” I nodded politely.
“May I inquire if the king is in commission? Reports for him and the general have just arrived.”
“I’m afraid he has retired for the evening,” I replied lightly, “But I am working with him and his cabinet to alleviate the workload. I can take them off your hands.”
As I stacked the ribbon tied pile of letters underneath my current load, a question took hold of the tip of my tongue, “Um, sir, does there happen to be anything requested to me?”
“Nothing for Her Highness. This is mostly correspondence with the front lines,” the servant bid me a good evening and ran off with piles for the admirals. I stood there for a moment, disappointment ebbing. I carried on through the halls and heard no footsteps behind me. It wasn’t as if I should have been expecting it, though it was the first time I had someone this month. Father had been somewhat right about how false hopes hurt.
I tried pushing the plaguing thoughts away, only for him to return to them. I wasn’t foolish, I knew where my former knight attendant was. I took small notes when his unit was discussed in the war room. He couldn’t be in immediate danger and I kept reminding myself that no war had been declared.
There would be war, though. Today the Gerudo aristocracy had requested reprieve at Hyrule Castle. Rebels were launching attacks on the borders of their capital and Hylian troops were mobilizing. They were proving to be more strategic than our opponents in the Uprising, leading the war cabinet to suppose that we were in for a far longer fight than ever before.
“By the goodness of Hylia, where did that come from,” Impa said, ripping me from my worries. She stood outside my chambers and opened the door for me as I approached.
“The messengers from the desert had come in when I left Father,” I laughed, somewhat incredulous myself. “And honestly with the state Uncle Nathaniel is in, I’d like to at least go through it for him.”
Impa continued staring as we continued to the hearth of my bedroom. Pillows and cushions riddled the floor as well as a small coffee table to write on. I threw the stack on the bed and Impa pulled some of the ties to my dress so I could slip into something more suitable for the floor.
“That little maid will kill you if you’re up for long,” she chided, making me laugh once more.
“Yes, I do think she will.”
We got to work quickly, reading through and sorting the parchments from level of importance. The most important meant that they needed to be answered and delivered first; for example, Father’s letter from King Dorephan. The second level varied from requests for assets by noblemen to simple reports from officers; these didn’t need immediate response and typically waited a day on this table. The third level was littered with letters that need no answer at all yet still could yield value to Father – or more commonly now, myself. It was incredibly monotonous, but it proved to be efficient.
“Chief Gor Coron wants King Rhoam’s consideration to betroth you to his son,” Impa mumbled. “Again.”
I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh, “He’s a very sweet boy, but he’s also fifteen.”
“Do you think it requires a reply from the Crown?”
“I vote for fourth pile.”
“Fourth pile it is.”
The fourth pile – the fire – was everything that His Majesty didn’t need to mind at all.
I placed a letter a lord who couldn’t gather an audience with the king into the second pile. Impa handed me the opener and announced she was going to chase down a kitchen maid for a strong pot of coffee. I had barely acknowledged her declaration by the time she had left. With the opener in one hand and the next envelope in the other, it slid across the paper cleanly. At least through this I got the pleasure of hearing the straight tearing of paper.
Absently, I wondered what time it was as I scanned the paper and stopped abruptly. The handwriting was scratchy and precise, resembling one that had been sitting under my mattress for months. My knees drew up to my chest from my relaxed seat.
General Nohansen,
In the hopes that this letter finds you well, I write to you my routine update of the state we’re in.
Currently, we’re stationed at the coordinates given by Admiral Fierlin the month prior. Gerudo Town is only ten leagues from our camp. My contacts within have alerted me that every tenth night there is some form of attack within public places on the outskirts of the city. Obviously, they are organized and deliberate. For weeks, at your request, I have pushed the Gerudo officials to request protected travel from their capital to our own…
The letter derailed into specific numbers about supplies and increasing men still arriving.
…Again, in regards of your health, we all pray to Hylia for your steady recovery. Until then, I’m at your disposal as usual.
Cpt. Forester
 I read his letter thrice before putting it down.
Mechanically, I let it fall into the second pile so that I would remember to share it with Uncle the next day. For whatever reason, it hurt worse each time I read it. I knew Elian had delivered my letter. He was at the castle last month, doubling for a messenger. Goddesses, I had spoken to him and asked if he had. Even then, my heart pleaded that he hadn’t. Surely, because Link would have written back.
Maybe… I was misled.
Impa opened the door with a maid in tow. She placed a tray of coffee on the table beside the mess of papers, poured the pot of coffee in two cups and quietly left. The older woman sighed, sitting cross legged on the pillows before taking a sit. As she did, she watched my silence to the letter sitting neatly at the top of the pile.
She swallowed the bitter liquid, “Zelda.”
My heart tried to steer my mind. “Yes?”
“You’re upset.”
I went to shake my head, “No—I.” I laughed quickly to cover my uneven breath, “I’m simply tired.”
My hands went for a new envelope and the letter opener. Impa repeated my name.
The curved blade of the opener missed the slip of the envelope, making me curse to myself until it made it in. He hadn’t even referenced me. Inelegantly, I retched it upward. The tear ended halfway down the envelope and hands stilled my own at my wrists.
“Zelda!” she said, carefully taking the letter opener from me. By then, I was reduced to shuddering gasps and spilling tears against her. “Af… after everthing-” A wail that fell to a sob escaped, “Three months of…  of nothing!”
Nothing of his condition or his whereabouts. How many letters has he bothered to send while I waiting patiently for anything from him? What has changed so drastically? I wasn’t so dull to forget that at the end of the day he had a job – we both did! Still, it didn’t stop me from thinking about him at night. It hadn’t not worried me when his commanding admiral made passing comments of bomb threats. The feelings I had thought we shared were still present and very much alive in my heart.
Then, in other bouts of his silence, it made me irrevocably angry. After all, he had left.
And, perhaps, that was it. That was all there was to it. The note he left at the inn had no remarks about wanting me to write to him. There was nothing to be said about wanting to see me again, not in the way I wanted to see him.
We sat there as she smoothed out my hair and whispered my name among shushes. It could have been hours or the entire night, but eventually I came to. Exhaustion overtook me and I slumped in my seat. Impa pulled away, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ear.
“I know you are grieving for much right now,” she said, “but you cannot lose sight. Whatever… whatever transpired between you two – I won’t inquire.” Impa looked forlornly at me with ruby eyes, “You should understand that what happened in your reprieve from the castle mustn’t continue.”
My stomach dropped at the thought. I saw his face from the inn, one of longing and regret. The feeling of heated cheeks when he’d look at me. His smile at my silly comments. I saw my ring in his hand and the resolve in his eyes and the callous of his fingers. The tender needs of a man who could put up a stone front so convincing that you’d thing he had lived his entire life without speaking a word and break it down just as easy – just for me.
Then, I saw the letter addressed to the general.
“With your coming of age and the current state of the Crown, Zelda,” she pulled my attention again. “You should consider the possibility of assuming the role of acting Queen of Hyrule.”
I sat quietly, neither confirming or negating her. It had been a thought that seemed more imaginary than plausible, but now Impa gave it life. Six months ago, I would have laughed at the notion and chalked it up to an implausible prediction; now it felt startling.
“I have,” I sniffed, brushing my wet cheek with my nightgown sleeve. “If my country needs me, I will not run from it.”
16 notes · View notes
volganic · 4 years
Text
Song of the Spirit
hooo boy finally this chapter is done because its been a pain in my ass
ty liz as always i love you so much for helping me whenever i need it!!!! you really are the biggest mvp
song is translated from its original german, but i wont torture you guys yet with that nonsense...... yet >:^)
[part 1] [part 2] 
Another moon cycle had passed when Link found himself being called to the castle's chambers with orders to return to Death Mountain.  To his surprise, General Impa had taken his word of advice and sent not only a negotiator, but a messenger as well, to gain intel on the witch -- under the condition that the captain accompanied them to their destination in one piece.  A day hadn't even fully passed before the captain ultimately made the decision to have his escorts return to base.
"Are you sure about this, captain?  The general had made it clear that it was imperative that we--" the negotiating party was cut off by Link's mount abruptly turning to halt their own.  His features were knit together tightly with a stern glare; he was not going to repeat himself again.
The two soldiers shared a quick look of doubt between themselves.  As quickly as they had looked to each other, they were back on alert and gave their leader a salute.  They turned their horses around to leave Link to continue on alone.
"It's better without them," he assured himself.  "They're safer at base."  A reclusive dragon like Volga wouldn't take too kindly to more than just one stranger, let alone three in his dwellings.
Link had made it to the neighboring village before nightfall, just in time to gather any more information before heading up to the caves.  He barely managed to stow away his horse into an unused stable before a crowd of people surrounded him, showering him with praise and gratitude for bringing peace to their little town.  Link declined their gifts with a tentative smile; their allegiance to Hyrule was all that was needed.
True to his word, Volga's forces had not been seen prowling about in their streets.  It was a relief to hear that he hadn't lied about his honor.
"You're going back up the mountain? Why  The dragon might get angry!  We aren’t prepared to face his wrath again!"
"It's been peaceful all this time, are you sure it's wise to do that, Mister Hero?"
He left them with their questions unanswered as he waved goodbye.  It didn't take too long to reach the end of the village, coming to the base of the mountain.  A cold shiver ran up his spine.  He wasn't keen on taking another chance at getting lost in the caves again, but it was for the sake of protecting Hyrule.  Inhale, exhale.  He willed himself to relax as he made the short hike up the side of the mountain to the entrance of the Eldin Caves.
This time, he was prepared -- and a little more experienced.
A wave of doubt creeped into his mind on how well this tunic really protected him from the fires and scorching heat inside, but he'd be playing a fool if he wandered into the dragon's lair without any protection again.  He slipped the ruby red tunic on quickly over his head and turned the corner.  He locked eyes with a pair of Dinolfos that guarded the entrance.  Last he had remembered, they weren't Dinolfos but Lizalfos -- and these two were much larger than their counterparts.
The pair took a defensive stance with their weapons drawn as Link approached them cautiously, shrinking in on himself with hands up to present himself as harmless.  The drakes kept their intense stare on the Hylian even as he began to sign to them.  He hooked both of his index fingers together and turned his wrists, alternating their positions. “Friend.” 
The lizards didn't move.
Were they confused?  Did they not know sign language?  Suddenly Link became very unnerved by the situation he found himself in.  The Dinolfos chattered among themselves, still keeping their weapons upright.  If he couldn't communicate with them, how else would he get in?  He promised Volga he wouldn't start or involve him in a war -- and he wasn't going to start by killing the two Dinolfos over a miscommunication.  He cleared his throat while still holding his nonthreatening posture, gaining the pair's twin predatory stares.
"V-V... Volga."
His throat ached.  Link's vocal chords weren't accustomed to much use beyond the bare minimum of simple gestures.  He can't remember the last time he had even spoken a full sentence, much less anyone's name.
The two Dinolfos tilted their heads in sync.  It was an eerie motion, even moreso with their owlish blinking.  This time they seemed to understand, lowering their weapons and shuffling apart to grant entry.  Link let go of the breath he had unconsciously had been holding as he brushed past them with his hands still raised.
That was easy enough.
A sinking feeling pooled into the Hylian's stomach when he entered the cavern, immediately met with a very familiar river of lava.  He mentally prayed to the goddesses that he wouldn't have to repeat the ordeal he went through his last venture through the caves.  This time, there were sounds of more activity: a Lizalfos  scratching there, a Dinolfos roaring there.  If he could see well enough against the bright shine of the fires, he would swear that even their shadows were dancing along the rock walls.  It was comforting to know that he wasn't completely alone -- however, the risks were still there.
He racked his brain for the easiest route back to the crystallized caves.  There was no absolute guarantee that Volga would be back where he had last seen him, but it was worth a shot.  The Hylian ducked into tight corners and behind any sizable boulders he could when a stray reptile came into his view.  He made a mental note that he was going to have to bring materials with him to make a map at some point.  The tunnels seemed to go on forever, opening up into separate rooms that Link knew for sure weren't there last time.
He was brought out of his train of thought when a haunting sound echoed off the tunnel walls, bringing him to turn his head to the direction of the sound.  Clearly the goddesses were pitying him the second time around.
æ d   ɪ d ə m  
Link tore his gaze away from the Lizalfos he had been stalking to break into a sprint.  Now, it wasn't a tune of deception leading to a premature death.  No, this was a lifeline.  He wasn't going to risk repeating his mistakes and getting lost, succumbing to the heat -- he couldn't!  He needed this intel for the sake of protecting Hyrule.  An unknown enemy was a larger threat than the fiery blaze of the Eldin Caves.
æ d   ɪ n f ɪ n ɪ t ə m
The melody became clearer and clearer with every hurried step he took down through the winding tunnels.  The passageways also became tighter and tighter, but the song still hung through the air enough to pull him through the tightest of crawlspaces.  He favored to ignore the alarmed screeches some of the Lizalfos he had run past to focus on the echoes.  It sounded like an entire choir of voices.
ɪ n   m e m ɔ: r ɪə m   k   ʌ n ʌ m  
He came to a screeching halt.  The tunnel opened up into the largest cavern he had ever seen.  Rather than dwelling in the favorable crystal blues, the entire mountain's source of lava seemed to pool here into a lake.  There in the middle of what he could see over the edge he had found himself standing on was the familiar shine of a draconian helmet.  The tall figure stilled, sensing the Hylian's presence.
The song was cut short.
"Come down, boy."
Link hesitated at the sound of the dragon's cool voice.  He didn't realize he had begun to sweat until now, brushing his hand against his forehead.  The aria still buzzed in his eardrums as he willed himself to move, but his legs remained frozen in place.  Even though he knew that he was not in any danger of being eaten, he remembered what a formidable warrior Volga had proven himself to be.  The sound of the other's weapon scratching along the volcanic floor almost made him jump out of his skin.
"Now."
Link did as he was told this time, adrenaline running through his veins to give him control over the rest of his limbs.  As to not keep an impatient dragon waiting, he favored to jump off the edge of the cliff, breaking his fall into a roll.  There was still some hesitation pulling at him as he brushed himself off, a poor attempt to look somewhat presentable as he stood at the dragon knight's side.
"Why have you come back?  I've kept my end of the bargain," he snapped, keeping his eyes ahead into the bubbling magma.  "As you might have even seen, my kin are within the boundaries of the mountain, away from villages Hylian and Goron alike.  You have no reason to return here."
"I'm here about the witch," the Hylian signed, pulling himself away from Volga's side to step into his view.  "Princess Zelda's orders.  I need more intel."
"Have your whelp look for that witch herself.  I've told you everything I know about her.  If that is all you've come for, consider your time wasted."
Link's stern expression cracked.  He's come all this way for nothing?  As if the goddesses couldn't be any crueler-
He snapped his fingers to pull Volga's attention back onto him.  He wasn't going to let himself be dismissed so easily.  "If you can't tell me any more about her, then at least help me prepare for her eventual arrival!"  
"Have you forgotten that I have said my allegiance will not be bought?  I refuse to serve for your arm-"
"Not the army," he interrupted with another snap of his fingers.  "For me."  Link's gaze fell to his feet as they shuffled, planting himself into the ground.  "I'll admit... I was weak last time we met.  I don't know much about being this hero everyone expects me to be, but," he looked up the knight, determination bright in his eyes, "I need to learn from a real warrior.  If you won't do your part by fighting against this witch, show that you respect me by teaching me how to bring her down!"
Volga stared at the Hylian.  He was a fool for venturing into his lair for a second time, prey to his song.  However, there was a potential in him that he could sense had been yet to be used; he surely was fiery enough to dare cross paths with him again.  Maybe, just maybe, should he indulge the poor boy this once, he'd be left out of the sight of the Hyrulean army's sight to live his life without being in the crossfires of any human war.
A low growl rumbled out of Volga's throat.  "Very well.  I will teach you to fight.  However," he warned, "I will not be the one to fight you."  His clawed hand wrapped around the end of his spear to pull it from the ground.  He turned away from the rivers of lava and motioned Link to follow him.  
---
Link blocked another heavy blow with his shield from one of the Dinoflos's sudden strikes.  They were out in the cool night air, the sounds of a heated struggle mixed with clashing steel ringing up into the sky.  Volga had resigned to seat himself off on the sidelines to observe how advanced the Hylian's swordsmanship skills were; from the looks of it, his skills were capped higher than that of any other unlucky member of the Hyrulean forces, but his strikes were still less than deadly.  The knight dug through the pile of rocks he had brought along with them, crushing them in his gauntlets and dusting away the rubble for precious ores that laid within them.
A sharp cry left Link's throat as the Dinoflos chieftain's blunt sword struck his side.  The chieftain took this time to push the Hylian back with a harsh shove with its armored gauntlet, nearly toppling him over the cliff side in success.  The drake looked to its master for another order, allowing the Hylian to pull himself up in a position other than completely vulnerable.
Volga crushed another stone in his hand -- ruby.  "Again," he said flatly, waving them off to deposit the gem into a pile with the others.  The Dinolfos growled and directed its attention back to Link, who was starting to show signs of exhaustion.  He slowly pulled himself up to his feet and drew his white sword back into an attack stance, looking past the chieftain to glare at Volga.
He wasn't even watching.  It annoyed him that the only person who had any decent skill to advise him in his training was treating it like a chore.  His eyes turned back to the drake in front of him, ignoring the feeling of his lungs burning to strike at it with a renewed energy laced in his battle cry.
The dragon's attention was piqued at the sound, followed by the sharp screech of steel meeting steel.  Concealed eyes tore themselves away from the rubble in his claws to observe the sparring.  "No," he frowned, narrowing his eyes as he watched Link slowly beginning to overtake his kin, pushing the large reptile back with a shove of his shielded arm.  Volga listened intently for the sound again, the pair now having gained his undivided attention.
Fire scorched through the air as the chieftain roared in the Hylian's direction, deflected by the shield.  Link planted himself into the ground, counting the seconds before he knew the flames would die out to line himself for a counterattack.  It came soon enough as he let out another fierce cry to strike at the Dinolfos.
Ah, there it is.
Volga stood briskly from his seat to deflect Link's sword from landing on his kin.  The curve of his spear's blade was the only thing blocking his kin from a brutal attack.  The Hylian and the chieftain both gave the dragon a puzzled look.  He withdrew his weapon from Link's and turned to the Dinolfos, nodding his head in dismissal.  The large reptile scrambled up in a hurry and retreated to the dwellings of the cave.
His cold stare then turned to Link who still held his expression of confusion.  It didn't last long across his features as his brows furrowed together, opting to drop his sword and shield at his feet to sign furiously.  "What the hell was that, Volga?  I was about to take him down, but you cut me o-"
"Why do you not use your voice?" he questioned, tone harsh.  His clawed fingers wrapped around the base of Link's chin to keep him still.  "If you wish to lead an army, you must have a voice to lead them with.  Why aren't you using it?"
Link flinched at the barrage of questions with the stinging pain in his chin.  He shook his head slowly, his expression falling sullen.  His fingers curled anxiously as he willed himself to speak with his hands.  "I can't speak.  It's always been that way."
"Liar." The knight released his grip on the Hylian's face as he looked to the moon.  "You heroes are too proud to even allow yourselves the luxury of basic communication.  Either mute, selectively mute, or otherwise," he glared.  "Not everyone will give you the chance to speak with your hands as you so choose."
"You've known the other heroes?" he asked, eyes wide in wonder.  "How does that work?"
"I might not have met them myself, but their stories are passed down through my bloodline as they are passed down to yours.  Some of my ancestors have even had the pleasure of meeting them... either as friend or foe."  He paused to read Link's incredulous expression.  "Though, perhaps your silence isn't but a burden, but a gift -- the hero's spirit seems to take upon a skill of music.  One through the ocarina, another through a harp..." His eyes turned back to the crescent moon above them. 
"I know a gift from the gods when I see it.  You're not blessed with only the Triforce..."  A small grin pulled at the ends of his lips when.  "You have the gift of song."
The Hylian didn't have much time to process or question what was said before he had been turned to face the moon above them.  Volga pressed his hands on the hero's shoulders to keep him grounded in place.  It was slightly -- no, very -- intimidating to feel him so close.  
"I want you to do as I say: relax, close your eyes, and breathe slowly.  I will teach you how to use your voice."
There was no room to argue with the weight of knight's gauntlets on his shoulders.  Link inhaled through his nose sharply and did as he was instructed, eyes shut and shoulders as slack as he could manage it.
"You have much untapped potential that I can see," Volga murmured.  "I am going to sing, and you will finish it; you know this song in the back of your mind, though it is not of any tongue you speak."  His claws sunk into his tunic to keep the Hylian focused on him as he brought his lips to the Hylian's ear.
“Give you a raven's feather, a pledge to our love; Remember me, I'll come back -- ”
“Remember me, you hold it in your hand...”
Link sang breathlessly, suddenly growing stiff in his shoulders.  He braced his left wrist when it began to burn in an intense pain, stilling when the golden glow of the Triforce peeked through the leather.
Goddesses, he was right.
10 notes · View notes
botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years
Note
YES! POST THINGS! IM BORED!!!
Okie Dokie here you go!
The real reason I wanted an ask was because the original person who asked for this prompt isn’t in my inbox anymore...? Someone requested a one-shot about Revali failing at his gale, but I can’t find it in the inbox because I’m dumb/technology issues? (I think their name was trash mammal or something, idk). Anyway, here’s that, although I kinda, accidentally turned it into a character analysis of Revali...But an anon said that I apologize too much with requests. Therefore, I’m NOT sorry about that, I’m NOT sorry for the wait, and I’m NOT sorry that this is 3487 words long. Enjoy!
Edit: Sorry if the format looks weird on mobile, idk why!
The Pride of the Rito
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild
Revali x Reader
The night was bitter in more ways than one. The snow that tumbled down on the Flight Range was thick, leaving clumps of ice on the roof. The air was hazy, a silver atmosphere that commanded the winds to howl towards the sky. The rugged mountains that surrounded the area isolated him and the trench. The only thing that could be seen past the lingering snowstorm was the faint blue glow of Medoh in the sky, for even the stars were captured under the white, with not a twinkle in sight. Outside, the flurries rested on the tips of his feathers and beak, a delicate moment in the midst of his relentless training.
Again. Let’s do it again. I need to be more precise.  
Revali knelt on the edge, teetering between the solid ground and the emptiness below him.  
He brushed the tips of his wing against the rocks, the winds rushing between his feathers. His body relaxed for a moment, closing his eyes and feeling the air. Then, he tensed, stiffening his wings on either side, in a motion as if to summon something from the earth. Well, he was summoning something. The air, the wind, the movement, the authority to conjure a draft below him. The winds were now picking up, swirling violently and circling under him, he could feel his jade anklets clinking around from the rampant air.  
Keep going. Keep. Going. It needs to be stronger, faster. 
The falling snow was now alive, dancing around as they were swept into the hurricane-like entity that was now surrounding Revali. His braids were flapping in the air, his cream colored scarf billowing. The winds were now cutting, bitter cold nipping despite his feathered features. 
Now, up. Release with control, direct it upwards. Not all at once. Keep the energy. Follow through the whole way. Command the ascent. Steer the flow. This is it!
A shaky breath escaped him. A strange charge now filled the air. The winds, once turbulent, now suddenly stilled, seeming to wait for their cue. He could feel it still swirling, inside of him, ready to burst at any moment. Then, his wings, still strained on either side of him, gave a mighty flap. The air now roared back to life, swelling beneath him. 
A tornado, a great pillar of air, now released into the sky. 
And he flew
…straight into a rocky cliff. 
“ARGH–”
The wind, quite literally, was knocked out of Revali, as he connected with the rocky ridge. He dropped, and then fell on the ground with a thud. He laid there, aching for a moment, before letting out a deep sigh.
Revali started to move, slightly, just enough to get his head out of the dirt. Then he knelt on the ground, for what seemed like an eternity, contemplating. Finally, he got up. The Rito armor, now dusted with grey snow and rocky debris, had protected most of him, however, it couldn’t protect the blow to his confidence. He cursed under his breath.
It seemed that instead of streaming Revali towards the sky, the gale had pushed him back, sideways towards the surrounding cliffs. With another flap of his wings, he moved back towards the wooden hut, shaking his head.
He landed on the armrest of the balcony, making his way to a little oaken desk. Snatching his journal (astutely named The Diary of Revali, the Rito Legend) he started scribbling down notes. Of course, being so focused on recording his latest happenings, he failed to notice the Hylian sitting amongst the pillows and blankets behind him. Putting the rest of his thoughts onto paper, Revali turned around and was greeted by your smiling face.
“Gah! [Name]? What– when did…how long have you been here?” 
You gave a quiet chuckle.
“Just half an hour or so. A blizzard was coming in and I knew you would be out practicing again. Being stuck here, alone all night, isn’t really ideal. So…”
You moved the blanket off of you, spreading your arms wide as if to present yourself or pose. A cheeky grin on your face.
“Ta-da! Now you have company!”
Moving the leather strap around your shoulder, you tugged a satchel onto your lap. Digging through, you pulled out two sealed containers.
“Plus, I brought some spicy meat stew.” 
Revali shook his head, moving closer to the blankets, but not daring to sit down.
“That’s alright, I’m not hungry.”
Acknowledging, and subsequently ignoring his comment, you shoved the soup container towards his chest, forcing him to hold it. 
“What? You get full from eating the snow and pebbles from your fall just now?”
His eyes then narrowed, “I’m trying to train.”
“By starving and injuring yourself?”
“By perfecting my technique– Listen, [name], if you came here to distract me from my goal, I’m sorry to inform you that your efforts will be for naught.”
Revali turned around, placing the spicy meat stew on the desk. He started making his way towards the landing outside.
You have out a huff. Getting up to follow him, you tossed both of the containers back into your bag and started walking.
 “Instead of focusing on long forgotten spiritual magic, why don’t you just focus on being the best you, you can be?”
“Farore above, did you really just say that? Incredibly cliche, I expected more of you–”
“I was joking.”
“Hmm, we need to work on your sense of humour.”
Outside, the air stung on your cheeks. The snowstorm still clouded the sky, masking both the heavens and the earth in white. Shivering, you asked,
“Rito can already fly, can’t they?  This seems a bit redundant, you already have wings. What’s even the point of creating an updraft?”
Revali slowed his pace to give out a hearty laugh. In fact, he stopped outright, on the edge of the landing, the echoes of his laughter filling the air. At this point it wasn’t entirely clear if he was being sarcastic or not. You crossed your arms, he stopped when he met your stiff gaze.
“Oh, so you were being serious then…”
A familiar smug expression crossed onto Revali’s face. He hopped back onto the railing, perhaps so he could physically look down on you. He tucked his wings behind his back, leaning forward ever so slightly. A professor about to give a lecture. This should be good.
“Well, as understandable as it is that a Hylian couldn’t comprehend the benefits of such an ability, allow me to enlighten you. Rito style archery is the most superior in all of Hyrule for a multitude of reasons. The light crafting of the bow, the quick and efficient draw, our graceful movements and technique, 
“But most importantly…”
He took one foot of the edge, half hovering over the windy pit.
“…the ability of flight!”
Both feet were now off the railing. Revali dove head first into the abyss. While you knew he was probably going to be fine, instinct kicked in as you hurried to the edge to check on him. 
Snow still fell through the air, flurries were once again sticking to his feathers. But all he felt was adrenaline, along with the rush of air as he plummeted towards the bottom. Before hitting the watery depths, he unfurled his wings, catching the natural updrafts of the Flight Range. Now soaring towards the sky, Revali gave a few more mighty flaps to get even more height. 
Still on the landing, you watched as a blur of navy blue rose above the cliffs. Contrasting with the grey and silver landscape, the blur shot through the air. Then it hovered, just below the clouds, still as a leaf.
Above the Flight Range, Revali shifted the bow off his back, allowing it to drop. Repositioning his weight, he dove down to catch it with a practiced grip. Falling through the air, he flipped upside down, just for show. Taking arrows from his quiver, he knocked them into place. Three arrows, all at once, were released. 
Thud! 
Thud! 
Thud!
All made perfect contact with the bullseye, the blue luminescent paint on the targets showing evidence of Revali’s accuracy and precision. Revali fastened another round of arrows, drawing them back before letting them through the air.
Thud! 
Thud! 
Thud! 
Perfect, as should be expected of me.
Now, he was about halfway down in his descent. 
I think [Name] might be impressed if I warm up the place…
Taking the arrows near the bottom of the quiver, he took out three heavier bomb arrows. Round, scarlet heads held a good amount of gunpowder. Sparking them with a piece of flint on the arrow rest, the fuses were lit, and he let them loose. 
BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!
The once frigid air now subsided in the wake of three explosions. The colors of a sunrise clashed in the air, bits of the once turquoise targets nearly flung into your face. You ducked, the warmth of fire now filling the Flight Range. 
Revali spread his wings, catching the natural drafts once more, then settled back on the railing. 
“As you could see from my demonstration, taking to the sky allows for Rito to shoot our enemies without becoming a stationary target ourselves. However, you can only shoot for as long as you’re falling, and taking to the skies takes time.
“You can’t just flap your wings and get into the air immediately. That only works with natural updrafts, again, as I just demonstrated. An average Rito would have to start at an already elevated position, such as the landings in Rito Village, in order to gain enough momentum and height. Or, alternatively, use a long stretch of land as a runway, gaining height at an gradual angle.
He turned to face you, smirk still on his face.
“Both options take too long. You asked the significance of my ability? It’s the fastest way in all of Hyrule to take to the air. Instantaneous height, the ability to attack whenever, wherever. Thought impossible by everyone, but something that I have solely mastered.”
Or, will master, anyhow…
He strode towards you, bow returned to his back, wings, once again, folded behind him. He gave a deep bow.
You gave a polite clap, humoring his grand show.  
“Fantastic performance, Revali. Encore?”
“Tsk. If you came by more often I might consider it.”
Now it was your turn to put on a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. When I finish begging the elders to reward you with a statue, maybe I will.”
“I don’t want, nor need something like that.”
“Oh? But I have to reward you somehow…how about…”
You took out the stews from your satchel. Presenting it like a trophy, you held one out. Then, you tilted your head towards the hut with the pillows and blankets, as if to say, over there! You urged Revali again.
“You didn’t eat lunch, or breakfast!”
“Didn’t I just explain, a literal five seconds ago, how important it is that I practice my–”
“Aaaaaaand you can’t do that on an empty stomach, can you?”
You tried to catch his eye, maybe if he just looked at your eyes, you could get him to change his mind.
“You don’t need to put on an act around me.”
A jade eye shot up, meeting your gaze.
“I’m not–”
Revali looked at you, a new charge filled the air. 
“…fine. Just for a minute.”
. . . . .  
“Did you even attempt to heat this?”
“It’s almost midnight, and I made it at nine. You’re the one who decided to coop up here all day.”
Despite the temperature, the stew was delicious. For the last hour or so, he and you had been devouring in the flavorful dish. Apparently, it was an official recipe from Rito Stable. The meat, tender and soft, complemented well with a savory broth that you slurped every drop of. The spiciness tingled through your bodies, warming the both of you up. Outside, the blizzard was still present, but now less violent. A thin slice of the moon could be seen beyond the edges of the mountains. 
It was you who made most of the small talk with Revali, an incredibly rare occurrence since it was usually the Rito Champion who spoke for extended periods of time. He kept looking outside, near the cliff he had crashed into earlier. 
Damn, he’s really still stuck up on that, huh? You thought. 
Trying to change the subject to something that would get his attention, you piped up.
“So, the move you’re working on, what’cha gonna call it?”
Revali turned his head back at you. He fiddled with the spoon in his half eaten stew, thinking.
“Something with ‘Revali’ in it, so my name’s out there. Revali’s Flap, Revali’s Hurricane…Revali’s…something. I’ll work out something.”
You let out a soft laugh. “As expected from you.” Shoving another piece of meat into your mouth, you added, “Maybe, *munch* maybe do something like Revali’s Turbulence. Oh! How about Revali’s Boldness! Wait, *munch* no, that’s stupid. But maybe a name more along the lines of Urbosa’s Fury, or Mipha’s Grace, ya know?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I need to copy from the likes of Champion Urbosa or Mipha.”
“What? They both got cool powers. You know the saying is ‘good artists borrow, and great artist stea–”
“As I said, I don’t need to copy, steal, or piggyback on my fellow Champion’s esteemed reputation. Further associating myself with them will not be necessary”
You set your bowl down, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Nayru save me, don’t tell me you hate them too?”
“What?”
“I mean, I guess I know from experience that you insult people that you like.”
“I…what?”
“Although, not just personal experience. From what I could gather, you seem to actually hate Master Link, but everyone else you just insult because that’s how you make friends. Wait, or are you actually trying to be friends with Link and you just suck at this kind of thing overall…”
Revali interjected in your rant, turning all his attention to you.
“I don’t hate them.”
“Master Link?”
“No, Urbosa and Mipha. Well, perhaps that knight too I suppose. I–I haven’t decided yet.”
“Then why have you been so bitter lately?”
This caught him off guard. You set your bowl down, holding his gaze. This whole week, Revali had isolated himself in the Flight Range, being sharp-tongued to visitors, much more than usual.  He wasn’t eating, Hylia knows if he sleeps. You decided to stop beating around the bush and got to the core of the issue.
“Revali, I’ve known you for a long time and I know by now when something’s up. You’re angry about something, or scared, you tell me.”
“It’s. Nothing.”
“Is it your new ability?”
 “No.”
“You only got the title of Champion two weeks ago. If you’re feeling pressured, that’s natural”
Revali let his bowl clatter on the ground. Getting up, he made his way outside.
“I’ll eat the rest later, I have to start practicing now.”
You raised your voice slightly, starting to get irritated. “Why is that so important, that you’re sacrificing your health and well being for it?!”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Are you trying to prove yourself? To me? To the Princess? The King? The Champions?”
Revali turned back towards you, but was still walking backwards. The sky was now serene, and full of stars, despite his not so peaceful expression
“I’ve already been deemed on an equal level with all of the other Champions. You know, the team made up of royals and accomplished warriors? I’m here because I’ve shown that my skills are superior to everyone else. Either way, I don’t need to prove anything to people that are of the same rank as me!”
“Hylia, you’re always so blunt with everything else, why not be straightforward now?”
“I am. I’m training because I’m an accomplished Champion who needs to train, not because I’m some mediocre warrior–”
“So you’re afraid of mediocrity?”
“OF COURSE NOT!”
Both of you stood there, stunned. While the tension was building between you two, Revali’s sudden outburst was sudden. You both stood there, wind playing with your hair, and dancing through his scarf.
“…of course not.” His final lie, whispered into the air.
For a moment, there was no sound but the whistles of the wind. You took a step forward, arm outstretched.
“Revali…”
He shook his head, shaking his wings, exasperated.
“OK, Fine! You want the truth, about the updraft? It’s not about the practical use, or the grand show, or defying odds. It’s about me, ok?  Right now I’m nothing, just a random cuckoo walking amongst royalty and legendary warriors.
“Daruk, the Goron Elder with an impenetrable force field. Mipha, the Zora princess, whose healing prowess is said to counter even the most devastating of wounds. Lady Urbosa, Chief of the Gerudo who can summon lightning at a literal snap of her fingers. How did I get in here? I’m put beside warriors who are obviously better than me, and what am I supposed to think? Without anything distinguishing about myself, I’m going to fade into history, behind the actually competent people. I thought I worked my ass off to get where I am today, but then I’m put behind some random knight with a shiny sword. So am I worth something or not? Everything’s contradictory, nothing makes sense.  Did I just get lucky? Am I getting screwed over? 
“The only way I can wrap my head around this whole situation is to confront the fact that I’m just an ordinary Rito who is only here by chance. The work I’ve put in my whole life isn’t enough, I need to go beyond. And beyond means actually mastering this cursed gale!”
An ugly pause. You could cut the heat and tension with a knife. Revali, realizing how much he had just poured out of his soul, gave a half-hearted chuckle.
“Heh, you put wine in that stew?”
His attempt to lighten the mood didn’t fully work. Nonetheless, you stared at him for another eternity. Then you went in for a hug.
“You’re the dumbest Rito alive if you really believe any of that. You are not mediocre. You’re incredible. Incredibly annoying, incredibly persistent at talking my ears off, but incredibly skilled and smart too. Hell, that’s why I’ve loved you for so long.”
Ignoring whatever reaction just escaped from his beak, you continued. 
“I would like to reiterate my point that you’re a moron. You can’t isolate yourself here and expect to get better. You can’t go through all this as a solitary warrior. If mastering this ability means so much to you, then go for it. I don’t doubt you for a second. But just know…just know that you’re a complete idiot if you think that you’re not worthy. You’re a fool if you think for even a second that you’re average or inferior, because…
You gulped.
 …because you’re everything to me.”
OK, I’ll admit that was super cliche. But catharsis is catharsis I guess.
The moment settled, and silence returned once more.
“Hylia, maybe I did put some wine in there.”
Revali gave out a soft laugh. Then, more quiet. Finally, Revali whispered.
“Did you really mean all that?”
“…yeah.”
A pause, a strange charge filled the air.
“Thank you, [Name]. That, uh, means a lot, coming from you. Truly.” 
The air was still once more. However, Revali’s thoughts still swirled like wind.
Say something idiot, they just confessed! 
Haha, yes, of course you like me, considering I’m the best around. 
Holy– They just called you out on your crap! Don’t say something like that
I love you too…
Wow, cheesy and not really part of the mood. Haven’t I presented myself as more sophisticated than that?
Spirits above, what do I do now???
“I’m sorry.”
You looked up at him. “What?”
“I’m sorry I’ve been making you worry all week.”
“It’s fine, I–”
“No, it’s not fine. We just established how that was not fine.”
Revali looked back at you, clearing his throat.
“Hey, so about all that about love, and stuff–”
“Oh my goddess, yeah, no, if you want to just stay friends I can–”
“Oh no, well. Just to be clear, you were talking about me, correct? You weren’t mispronouncing someone else’s name, or referring to someone else named “Revali?”
You cocked an eyebrow.
“No…I–I was referring to you. The person I was talking to.”
“Ah. Good. Glad that’s clarified. That’s great.”
“…so do you–”
“OH-oh-oh, right, uh yes.”
Revali took a step back, pointing at you with both index fingers. His beak was open, but no sound escaped for a moment. 
Say it! They said it a few minutes ago!
I love you too!
“I have also, liked you, a lot, for a long period of time. You’re, pretty great. Yep. Yeah. This is mutual, yes…” 
Gods, I’m really am an idiot
155 notes · View notes
Text
I Won't Kill Foxes...
I Won’t Kill Foxes in Breath of the Wild
(and I'm okay with that)
I can easily get lost in the kingdom of Hyrule—literally and metaphorically. Playing Breath of the Wild (BOTW) on my Switch, I’m taken in by the soothing sounds of my shoes tapping on the stone and the swishy clank of gear when I run. I’ve spent hours exploring the terrain, cutting through valleys or climbing mountains, looking in every nook and cranny for treasure and Korok seeds. I never take the path on the map.
Within this vast world, and with the aid of divinities and advanced technology, I—in the body of Link—have numerous choices. Combat aside, I can blow up trees for wood, tame wild horses, catch fish with my bare hands, cook my own meals, and move rocks around (not exciting but sometimes necessary). I can also hunt the local wildlife, from mountain goats to squirrels. I choose to live off foraged vegetation, but I have hunted boars or goats as needed and will sometimes kill a wolf if it continues to attack me.
I am not a vegan in the real world. I understand the circle of life and the need to protect oneself, or one’s character, from wild animal attacks. But I do not enjoy the killing of small animals, even in games. I don’t aim for squirrels, birds, or butterflies and I especially DO NOT kill foxes. It’s bad enough that I have to kill wolves when forced, and hear their sad puppy dog cries, but I just can’t do that to the fox.
Unlike wolves and other large wildlife who may charge if you get too close, the foxes are peaceful. They run when they see me, instead of turning to fight. I’ve never been attacked by one, and I mostly see them frolicking in flower fields or playfully chasing butterflies. When they are attacked, the foxes make heartbreaking little sounds, very squeaky, like newborn pups. They don’t even try to fight back; they just turn and run, crying as they go. I killed a fox in the beginning, not really sure of the game mechanics and how much food there would be. My heart immediately broke and I swore “Never again!” So, to avoid a stony heart turned black and icky by the oil of puppy murder, I swore off hunting most wildlife.  
In contrast, I am happy to clear out a band of Moblins and Bokoblins using swords, bombs, fire, electricity, whatever I have. I feel a sense of success when I am faster and more lethal than a Lizalfos, and I’ll proudly take down a Giant Stone Talus or a sleeping Hinox. But I won’t kill a fox. Truth be told, I am not bothered by this. It makes perfect sense to me, defining who I am as a person and as the Hero of Time. According to my moral rules, injustice must be conquered. I am not an aggressive person, but in a world of monsters I think it is appropriate to wield a sword and protect the innocent.
—We could easily launch into a discussion of how to define terms like “moral,” “immoral,” “sinister,” “evil,” “good,” and so on, but that would miss the point of this post. So for clarity, I’m using the terms in their simplest forms because they conjure a clear picture for most of us and we understand how those terms relate to games.—
When I embody a character, I want to give him or her my sense of the world—impart my beliefs, values, and preferences to whatever extent I can. I prefer games where character creation and narrative choices are largely in my hands. When that isn’t possible, I still appreciate playing as a character who shares my worldview in some way. I don’t need or even want to be the hero of my world, but I do like to feel that my presence has a purpose in the game. Link is undoubtedly designed to be a hero in the truest sense of the word—showing courage, strength, and virtue. He is not one of the popular antiheroes, who can sometimes summon enough energy to make good choices in the face of their darker nature, and often still for personal gain. While those characters can also be fun to embody (I like making them do nice things without pay) they typically have a different, more sinister flavor to them, with the message of the games they live in also feeling sinister.
I don’t want a world where we must do evil in order to do good. That does not make sense to me. I want a world where we fight evil by doing good, even when it is very, very hard. I want to be the person who makes the tough but right decisions, knowing that it will save my heart from stony blackness. I am not that person in every moment, but that is what I’m reaching for and I’m glad my gameplay reflects that. For me, it isn’t necessary to play through immoral decisions in order to feel and explore the weight of a wrong choice. I know what wrong choices will lead to, and how they feel. I want the experience of making a lot of valuable but difficult decisions, of being brave when I am afraid, and of being kind when I could be blindly enraged.
When we play video games, we invest our mental and emotional energy in the narrative or characters, often finding that the games become more real to us the more we invest ourselves in them (Bailey, Wise, & Bolls, 2009; Jin & Park, 2009; Lewis, Weber, & Bowman, 2008). We enter a virtual space but we remain self-aware, with some arguing that our moral choices in games still have real implications and that it is our moral awareness that actually makes in-game decisions meaningful (Sicart, 2009). If I go into a game deciding that all morality is out the door, then I don’t have to make tough decisions and nothing I do really matters. Essentially I’ve made the only real decision I’m going to make and there is no need to seek development as a character. I am just going to slash and dash, end of story.
If I choose to engage with my moral center intact, and be a version of myself in that game, then I have interesting choices ahead of me. Maybe I will help the widow, even though she cannot pay me. I won’t murder innocent people or rob them. It will probably take me longer to earn what I need when I could just steal it, but maybe that is how I make the game truly interesting—I survive by doing good in a world designed for atrocity.
Holding it all together, the good and the bad, I love games. I believe in their ability to impact and shape us, and I have hope that in the right hands games can be globally transformative (McGonigal, 2011). I know the power of what I interact with. That being said, I feel really good when I pass a little red fox moving peacefully through the grassy meadows of Hyrule. I am on my way to conquer the ultimate evil, and he is trying to eat a butterfly. The world is as it should be.         
References
Bailey, R., Wise, K., & Bolls, P. (2009). How avatar customizability affects children’s arousal and subjective presences during junk food-sponsored online video games. CyberPsychology & Behavior, 12(3), 277-283. doi:10.1089/cpb.2008.0292
Jin, S., & Park, N. (2009). Parasocial interaction with my avatar: Effects of interdependent self-construal and the mediating role of self-presence in an avatar-based console game, wii. CyberPsychology & Behavior, 12(6), 723-727. doi:10.1089/cpb.2008.0298  
Lewis, M., Weber, R., Bowman, N. (2008). “They may be pixels, but they’re my pixels:” Developing a metric of character attachment in role-playing video games. CyberPsychology, 11(4), 515-518. doi:10.1089/cpb.2007.0137
McGonigal, J. (2011). Reality is broken: Why games make us better and how they can change the world. New York, NY: Penguin Books.
Sicart, M. (2009). The Ethics of Computer Games. Boston: MIT Press. Retrieved from http://ezproxy.baylor.edu/login?url=http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=259281&site=ehost-live&scope=site
Disclaimer:This is a blog, which contains a mixture of my current knowledge and opinions. The information is accurate to the best of my knowledge but may contain omissions, errors, or mistakes. I am a psychologist licensed to practice in the state of Washington, but this article does not create a psychologist-client relationship. I am providing psychological information and my own opinions for informational purposes only, and anything I present should not be seen as psychological, emotional, or medical advice or treatment. You should consult with a mental health professional or your primary care physician before you rely on this information or take any action. I reserve the right to change how I manage or run my blog and may change the focus or content at any time.
5 notes · View notes