#link's going to start carrying great fairy water soon

[factorialsfandoms]

I... couldn’t find an idea for any of today’s prompts I liked, so here please take an /extreme/ stretch on ‘tossing and turning’, with the water fairy from HW Great Sea Map J4. Maybe its better to call this alt prompt - dazed & confused.

Bo had not even realised the threat before a net fell down over her. She had merely been out exploring, looking for new excitement as fairies of her age were wont to do. Somewhere, far from the reach of her friends, she had sat down for a nap. It was a good nap, a lovely nap.

And then she was awoken by the screams of bloodshed and battle, and to a net over her head.

In panic she tried to flee, but it did her no good - whomever had caught her was an expert, quickly transferring her to a bottle, and stoppering the cork.

Terrified she turned, reaching out to beg her captor to let her go free and escape this place. She’s be no trouble, just let her go.

He did not let her go.

Instead, her captor upended the bottle, checking the fit of the cork. With the sudden movement Bo could not spread her wings in time, and instead crashed hard. The cork at least was softer than the glass, softening her fall. Still she hit it hard, a shock going up her spine.

“Please stop!” she called, only for the bottle to be turned back the other way.

This time she had just about enough time to shriek before she hit the floor - hard - and the breath was stolen entirely from her lungs.

With desperate gasps she pulled in more to replace it, bruised muscles burning with the effort.

Wide eyed she looked up at her captor, too breathless to even beg him again. Instead, she hoped the desperate look and the way her chest moved far too fast would convey the message. He was ugly, but surely he wasn’t that cruel?

He was.

A grin spread across her captor’s face, wicked and cruel and wide. He gave a gleeful shout before suddenly jerking the bottle to one side.

Bo was thrown across the bottle, slamming into the glass. Something snapped this time, and the agony joined the force in pushing air from her lungs. Suddenly realising what was happening she pulled her arms - arm, one refused to move - over her head and curled up, desperately trying to protect herself.

Another jerk, and she slammed into the side once more.

Weren’t bottles supposed to be enchanted to prevent such pain?! Maybe he had just selected a dud one...

This time there was a long break, long enough for her breathing to still and her magic to start wrapping around her wounds, healing the broken arm just enough for her to pull it over her head too; she doubted this would be the end of it.

And she was correct to.

After a bit the bottle was taken and thrown high into the sky, spinning as it did. She was thrown from side to side, the force too much even for prepared wings to fight against, every part of her body slamming into the glass, her arms falling from head head on the fourth or fifth crack.

And then her head began slamming into it, again and again and again, until she could barely see, barely remember, her only real knowledge being the pain and the muffled but yet too loud sounds from outside.

Then suddenly all motion stopped, and something more panicked and shrill cut through. Bo lay on the bottom of the bottle, wings spread out, gasping for air as she tried to orientate herself. On instinct she used magic to straighten her wings and refuse her bones, doing its best to repair the damage to her brain but finding itself at a loss.

Brains were tricky; they took more concentration to fix than Bo was capable of having. Still her magic tried, soothing the pain just enough that she could again see details, and the world stopped turning when she was absolutely still.

She... She could just stay here, right? Stay here for the weeks it would take for her to regain full use of her senses? That would be fine... Right?

But then there was the pop of the lid being removed - suddenly everything sounded ever so much more. Bo flinched, and then yelped as the world shifted beneath her.

Whatever was tipping her from the bottle was much more gentle, but any movement no seemed cruel. She tumbled over the lip, unable to quite find her wings in time not to crash into the hand below.

There was one soothing noise, and another panicked and shrill. Both clawed into her brain, and made her headache pound once more.

It took a lot to sit up, and more still to look around. Her eyes would not focus, no matter what she did, and... and... she was sat on the hand of something very, very tall, and almost certainly monstrous.

Seeing the threat, she tried to bolt, flapping her wings as fast as she could in an attempt to get away. The dizziness reared up again, throwing her off balance - she tilted heavily to the left, her flight path veering and falling both, then over corrected and ended up to the right. Desperately she tried to correct herself, but it was just like her legs! Her wings weren’t working, why weren’t her wings working, why couldn’t she get away?!

Still she tried to escape, trying to head up and away from the battle.

An arrow surely aimed elsewhere clipping her leg, sending her tumbling off course once more. She tried to spread her wings to steady herself, but only somehow managed to straighten the descent.

Why was this so hard?!

It was only flying! Flying... Flying came naturally to fairies!

Panic seizing her heart her breathing froze. Even as she managed to stabalise her fall she could not breathe again; even as she continued on a dangerous and erratic path did she find her vision blurred and her body improperly responsive.

Everything was too loud and her head hurt and she couldn’t breathe and she was so, so, so scared!

A veering to the left, a fall to the right, she dropped and gained altitude at random. Maybe it looked like a clever escape path, but in truth she could not keep her strength balanced or her path straight.

It was proven not to be so when she tried to weave between the fighting armies, only to crash into some manner of red-skinned beast.

The creature did not even notice her, tiny as she was, though the force of the impact left her tumbling to the floor again. Any air left was lost, but some the act managed to trigger her into breathing again.

Not that it would do her much help - the ground was fast approaching, but she was so dizzy she could not even work out which way to fly to not hit it. No matter what she did, it only got closer and closer and closer and if she crashed... If she crashed into the mud on a battlefield, they’d never see her! They’d never see her and she’s simply be crushed to death by all the hundreds of shoes.

But then something else appeared - gloves hands, cupped beneath her. As she touched them they lowered a little, cushioning her fall.

The monster - the second monster, the one that had taken her from the bottle - again. He kept glancing up at the fight around him, but for now remained... strangely still, clicking his tongue gently in what was likely an attempt to soothe.

Bo tried to get up and fly once more. She made it to her knees before her brain was overwhelmed with dizzy, her vision whiting out for a moment as she keeled over to one side.

This... This was it, then. To be devoured by some monster who could not even absorb her magic right.

Unable to do anything else she began to sob. Every jerking motion made agony run through her head, her vision whiting each time, but it was all she could do! Her arms fell beneath her, leaving her puddled and sobbing in unfamiliar hands even as they moved. Slowly, carefully, but too fast not to make her blurred vision swim and her head to loll once more.

“Link!” the shrieking voice was clearly another fairy; Bo groaned at the sound, piercing through her skill and into her bones. “What did I say about running off?!”

Gently one of the hands cradling Bo tipped, letting her fall limply until she was lying on only one. It was much kinder than any other motion from the day, but still pounded her head until she couldn’t breathe.

A moment passed, before the shrieking fairy came into view. Bo, she was ashamed to say, screwed tight her eyes shut so she couldn’t see the bright blue glow, couldn’t suffer the sharp pain it bought.

“Oh...” the new fairy did a bad job at whispering. “Are you- Link, is she alive?!”

Bo did her best to gesture, managing to move her hand a little. There was a small flurry of movement, then her shoes were being taken and her head kept carefully still as a tiny glass was put to her lips.

“Drink,” the other fairy ordered. “Link always says that drinking helps you feel better.”

Not really; all it made Bo do was burst into tears all over again.

“Sister!” the fairy grabbed her hands, moving her a little. “Come on, big sister, you need to drink!”

The cup was pressed into her face again, only for Bo to choke on the water - precious water which tasted of a great mother not her own.

The other fairy continued panicking, trying again.

This time it worked.

Bo could feel the blessing passing through her body, soothing pains and breaks from the jostling.

It, however, did nothing for her vision or her head.

“Better now?” the fairy chimed, more sweet than her use of the Hylian tongue. “I’m Proxi, who are you?”

Bo did her best to answer, but from the look on Proxi’s face, it was not making much sense. So she tried again and again, getting steadily more distressed as the confusion grew.

Finally, Proxi got there, “Bo! That’s a good name, right Link?” she did not pause for her companion to reply. “But, you’re not speaking good, are... are you okay?”

“Head hurts,” she replied.

Proxi looked more worried, tilting her head to the side, “could you speak a bit slower, I’m sorry, you’re all garbled! Like a fish!”

Bo did as she was told, slowing down every bit of it.

Proxi’s expression grew serious as Bo finished her words. Suddenly the other fairy was there, tilting Bo’s head. Tiny fingers found a bruise, sending an agonised scream from Bo’s lips. The hand they were sitting on clinched, and after a moment its owner began a fast job elsewhere.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Proxi really did mean it, panicked even though she was. “Link! Help! Her bruises have bruises!”

There was some more one-sided communication that Bo could not catch, until Proxi’s hands grabbed her arm, and tugged it over her shoulder.

“We’re going to go ride Link!” she explained, not making any sense. “Sorry if its dizzy, but there’s still a fight going on and we’ll be safe in his scarf. Link always looks after me, and he’ll look after you too! And we have other big sisters staying with us, too!”

Bo did not even have time to process the information, all of the words smushed together and impossible to unpick fast enough, before her side was grabbed and she was pulled into the air.

While Proxi’s path was steady, it threw Bo’s brain back into a horrible tailspin. Even the careful movement had her brain feel like it was being sloshed inside her skull, jelly wobbling harshly and slamming into the sides. Her vision grew increasingly distorted, the two images moving farther from one another, and her other injuries objected sharply. All around them the sounds of battle continued, smashing into Bo’s ears and making it feel like her brain was trying to explode.

It was only a couple of seconds before they landed on the soft blue of the scarf, Proxi tugging her upright. Bo did her best to land - it should have been easy, it should have, it should, it was perfectly folded for fairies to rest on - only for her feet to... somehow miss.

She scrambled for a moment, trying to regain her footing, only to somehow mistake down for up and up for down and end up slipping entirely off.

A scream tore through her ears, leaving a vague ringing behind it which distorted and warped the sound.

She was falling falling falling, tumbling and turning once again as she failed to ever direct her wings the correct way.

To Bo’s eternal surprise, it was stopped once again by a gloved hand. The screaming cut off as she landed hard, losing air again. As she gasped the hand moved slowly up to the level of the scarf, where a frantic Proxi grabbed her hands.

Bo could see that Proxi was talking as she tugged Bo towards her, trying to move her from the hand to the scarf. Bo did her best to follow the implied guidance, stumbling as her feet missed their spots and gave out beneath her.

Proxi spoke in a frantic tone as she helped, only worsening Bo’s headache; she stumbled again, this time falling entirely.

This time, a little magic came from Proxi’s hands, prodding at Bo’s own, trying to offer her strength to heal. While Bo’s body accepted it greedily, knowing itself hurt, it seemed... confused as to what to do with it.

Somehow, she made it from the hand to the scarf. The hand remained there, ready to catch her if she fell again.

Another two steps and she slipped once more, though Proxi managed to pull her forwards instead of her falling back.

She fell with an umph onto the soft fabric, head spinning and spinning and spinning, almost like the man on which she lay was swirling about himself.

Concerned hands touched her shoulders - Bo gasped as they caught her bruises. Quickly they moved away. A few moments later the sound of battle was dimmed once again, and the lights faded somewhat. Confused and hurting, Bo tried to look. Holding her not yet caught breath she twisted, only to find the scarf to have been folded over her face.

Instinctively she panicked, until small hands reached under the fold to grab her own.

“We’re safe now,” Proxi was saying. “Link’s got you. But your head must really hurt - I’ll give you more magic to try heal it, and you take a nap until the worst is past. Okay big sister?”

Bo did not need more permission to collapse. With the pounding headache she found it impossible to sleep, but it was easy for her eyes to shut down and her brain to spin. The muffled sounds of yelling and fights continued, Proxi returning to the sharp, grating Hylians as she called orders on behalf of her master. It pounded and roared, tearing up Bo’s mind and making it impossible to think.

And then, after an amount of time Bo could not comprehend, those large hands - no longer gloved - peeled the scarf aside.

The bright light of daytime assaulted her eyes, causing a grown and her vision, which had been calming, to snap back to its worse. Proxi looked worried as she and Link spoke about something, one hand replying to high-pitched words, before flying off.

Gently the hand unpicked Bo from the scarf. She whined as the safety was taken away, earning herself a chuckle. That hand was gentle, too, as it lowered her down, until she rested in a puddle of water.

Not a puddle - a fountain.

As a fairy of water she could not drown, and the waters of the great mothers - even absent ones, this one away fighting if she remembered rightly - helped even more than for their other-aligned kin. She heard a yell from Link and quick reassurances from Proxi as she shifted to the side - too much, not that she could tell - falling from the rock ledge she had been placed on and submerging herself entirely.

Finally, relief.

Bo’s head still pounded, noise and light still tore through it like sawdust, and she could still barely find her feet let alone put them down but here, floating in the magic-touched water, the pain finally dulled enough for her body to start healing, and for her mind to sleep.

[kate-m-art]

Okay, just kind of feeling it tonight soooo lore dump for legacy Legend and Maggie, and a bit of brainstorming how fairies work in their world

Okay so starting out i think great fairies gain power through connection with other life. They tend to isolate and stay away from the world to stay safe and be able to bless people for centuries, but i wanna say in exchange they often weaken without contact from those outside their haven. I've seen the hc before and love it that rupees, an object passed from person to person to person, hold the energy of many people with many stories and are a way for the fairies to strengthen their power.

It seems that although many Hylians are kind and there are some safe places near them, the vast majority of fairies hide. Are they shy or is it fear? I honestly can't see the world at large, filled with thieves and monsters, being kind to a creature of light with the inherent ability to heal. 

Fairies seem to be a being created of pure light magic from the goddesses who are meant to fill the world with their blessings. They can heal most ailments caused by natural means, but magical impairments are harder to fix. A normal fairy can't do much for those, especially if the ailment is caused by dark magic. A great fairy might be able to ease the ailment, but it takes a tremendous effort and if she's low on energy it may not end well for her. 

Tiny bit of backstory for Link, he was really sick as a baby and his parents ended up taking him to a great fairy fountain as a last resort to heal him. She was able to with great effort, and the residual magic turned his hair from its natural blonde to lttp fairy pink. Link's case was quite a hard one, cause it wasn't his body that had been damaged, but his spirit. Even that happened long before it was in him (as little sense as that makes,,, the failure of the hero of time really did a number on the heroes spirit and rip the hero of Legend is the next to carry it,,,) It's confusing for the fairies as well, and while the great fairy's gift lasted him many years, he's pushed himself hard enough to go through the strength of several lifetimes,,, long story short he's been tempting fate for too long and the gift he was given is fading (only streaks of pink are left in his blonde.) Luckily though, he meets someone soon who doesn't believe in fate. And she's willing to continue to heal him and boost his strength as many times as it takes to soothe his soul.

Moving back for a moment, why fountains..? I think there must be some kind of connection to the water there… I'm thinking it probably it creates a haven for smaller fairies and is perhaps a way to keep their magic as potent and flowing as possible. The caves they're found have a pretty hot and humid environment that fairies are adapted to, and they're most comfortable there, the outside world is pretty chilly to them. Great fairies especially, they're meant to stay there forever. Most are perfectly happy to exist this way but,,

 For Maggie the idea of existing in one spot for her entire life is terrifying, fate be damned. I think she's probably quite young for a great fairy,, and she's running. There's a fountain somewhere out in the world she was supposed to take over but its been long since abandoned (and rip there would be a lot of painful memories dug up if Link ever stumbled across it in his travels. If I had to guess it's a fountain rich with magic from many tear-filled nights) She's not even sure what she wants for herself but she hates the thought of living in a stone prison forever, so isolated from everything. She loves life. Since she spends her time out in nature, surrounded by flora and fauna she has no need for the residual life magic tied to rupees. I also like the thought that she chose the name Magnolia for herself, embracing her love of trees and flowers and life and rejecting something more fantastical and mystical "befitting" of a great fairy.

I think because of this desire to explore and find her own path, she wasn't very careful,,, not as much as she should have been at least. I wanna say this was after she met Link (perhaps she was traveling with him for a bit after their first couple of meetings), but i think one day she was captured by someone (evil hylian, wizrobe or monster?) who initially only met to abuse and extinguish her light magic. When they found out she was not only more powerful than a normal fairy sprite, but also seemed to have knowledge about and a bond with the hero, they locked her in an iron cage (probably a lantern of some sort.) I want to say maybe she was supposed to meet with Link (to talk? To heal? Who can say) and when she didn't show he realized quickly something was wrong and was able to find and save her before it was too late. However, because iron burns creatures made of pure magic she ended up pretty badly hurt. Her wings were singed from brushing up against the sides of her prison and the burns on her hands and arms from trying to escape with her life never quite healed right. From that point on she has a bit of a hard time with finer motor movement in them. I don't know that Link ever quite forgave himself,,, he felt if she hadn't had ties to him she wouldn't have been hurt so brutally (who knows though if that's true… monsters in Ganon's order will find excuse in anything to extinguish the light and lives of those blessed by the goddesses.)

I think perhaps before that, Link was okay with Maggie joining him sometimes on quests, her healing was stronger than that of a normal fairies and,,, he honestly just really enjoys her company (her laugh and smile and gentle conversation…) but after,, he felt selfish for wanting her there with him instead of somewhere safe.

[prof-peach]

If you could cross over two of your favorite games, which would you choose? Please explain, why that crossover would be a good match.

Oh you’re going to regret asking this one, I’m bout to GET SERIOUS.

So Pokemon, obvs, I love the whole world it’s built in, but the games imo are REALLY boring, I haven’t enjoyed one a lot since gale of darkness, the main ones just are a little too linear obvious plots, pretty standard setups for story and style. Speaking of style, the games lack personality, the models aren’t animated well, moves have no dynamic energy or visual difference at times, and the turn based battle style just feels kind of, I don’t know, old? Slow? Just doesn’t suit what I enjoy personally, gives me a FInal Fantasy vibe and I just cannot stand the speed at which things happen in those games, plus not into 3rd person ‘let’s build a team of people’ much, but that’s a problem for another time. With this all in mind, the game I wish would happen is like gen20 Pokemon, far future sadly, I doubt I’d see it in my lifetime but god I’d be happy if I did!

Ok so take the newest Zelda graphics, the visual treat that was BOTW, open world, puzzles, not JUST combat, you got side missions, hunt the chickens, find missing pets, parcels, items, whatever. Love it! The horse taming?! Amazing you funky little game. Now take the bad guys and beasts from that. And put Pokemon in instead. Give them the diversity, the life and believable natures that BOTW gave the animals, I followed a frog in BOTW for 15 minutes, and it was a great experience, it felt like it was believable. Above world spawning, ACTUAL difficult gameplay, rare spawn rates, make dragons hard to get again, cmon, it’s too easy now, make it so we need a certain set of Pokemon for certain tasks. Water types big enough to carry you will be able to get you to new areas, rock types that can help you climb mountains faster, or break through blocking boulders. Actual towns with more than 4 houses in them, shops, barns, farms, homes. Like little link with the heat, maybe ice types would struggle in volcano areas, or bug Pokemon not be so comfortable in gale force winds. Give the weather more of an effect on your partners. Mounts, don’t even get me started that Pokemon Let’s go had you able to ride any of the larger species, but swsh did not???? Bitch please, give me my rideable Pokemon. The wild area too was far too closed, limited, online was laggy and a mess, camping is limited, let me do more with my team. Pokemon for me is all about the actual creatures, how they live with humans, and the many wonderful things they’re capable of. Yes of course it’s cool they can fight, but like what else you know?

I’d love a game that lets me buy a plot of land, maybe plant things, custom build things. I’m a sucker for the fallout4 settlement builds when they’re modded to hell and back, they’re fun! It can be a really calm and creative process. If I could do that and skip the main campaign and all the battles for a bit? Amazing, it sound perfect for me. I am that distracted hoe collecting flowers while the kingdom burns in the background. Side quests are everything to me. Let me give homeless people enough money to get them in a home? Let me adopt Pokemon that are stray around the town? Plz oh plz bring me a Pokemon game that allows me to work WITH my team to do more than KO other species. I want to save and buy a plow for my buddy gogoat, and grow amazing foods to sell to get currency to spend in decorations, to spoil my team. Give me actual game consequence, if I ignore that sick and injured Pokemon I find in the wild, later maybe it’s family don’t want to help me out with a different problem, too stricken from grief. I am all about the average bits, the old women who need help, the lost pets board in town, the general day to day stuff. Let me get cosmetic items for the Pokemon I keep, cute outfits, special gemstone items, let me actually live with them, or even feel remotely like they’re realistic.

Ok so in game, if it’s looking like BOTW it’s pretty beautiful but also stylised, I’d have it so you can send out a maximum of 3 Pokemon from your 6, using bumpers and such to throw them out. If you hit the trigger you switch from controlling the human trainer, to the Pokemon you’ve targeted with a standard lock on targeting system. You then can be the leader, but be the Pokemon. You could technically defeat the game without a human if you wanted, which incorporates the mystery dungeon games I think, and caters to that crowd. I’d love to see the use of attacks out of battle, things like using water gun to grow plants, using ember to start a campfire faster and stave off the cold. There’s no consequence to Pokemon anymore, and I think that’s where it’s lost me. I have to admit I miss the days of a poisoned pokemon fainting if you don’t heal them soon enough, I miss gym battles that were actually tough, damn, try picking charmander in red and beating brock without grinding in viridian forest first, it’s not easy. And I loved that. Yes it’s a child’s game, it will never be difficult again, but god it’d be nice to have a bit of a challenge, or maybe a difficulty setting, so some could play it with hostility turned off, great for kids, or you can be n adult like I know so many Pokemon fans are, and play it on expert mode and ACTUALLY have to work hard to beat the game. Alternate skill trees anyone? Train gun a fire type to ACUTALLy combat water moves?? Please! Cmon! It frustrated me that every challenger has pretty much a systematic set of moves to use to win. Grass opponent? Fire attack spam until you win. It’s dull, so at least with very difficult tricks to either find or learn in game would make it more achievable if you can send that fire type in and I don’t know, train them so much the heat evaporates the water mid-battle and you suddenly have a shot at winning. Pokemon has taught me that if you work hard enough you can achieve something, but the games just have such strict ways to win. Feels wrong.

In terms of battling, let us BE the Pokemon, let us learn to dodge, train our speed, train our defence, make a team of truly tough Pokemon instead of just, average? Some species have a cap on their skills, a squirtle has lower stat points than a Charizard, but you can’t ever change that? Let me choose the Pokemon I believe in, and let me work with them until they’re just as good, if not better than the game tanks. This would also make online battles more interesting. Everyone picks the top trio. Fairy, dragon, legendaries. And yknow what? It’s boring. That one IRL fight with the monster Pacharisu that won in the world tournament with follow me and the situs Berry? Unbelievable, I love that little rat so much because of this, so let us all have a chance to build a team that’s strategically viable, strong, and potentially a winner formula, even if they aren’t fully evolved, or the biggest Pokemon in the world. Yeah maybe you have to grind way harder with your unevolved Pokemon, but you get to the end game and win, because you put love and time into species that you enjoy, not just good fighters.

Unfortunately I am beholdent to Todd-idiot-Howard, and I love the Eldrescrolls and fallout games (before they got dumb, not that I don’t play the new ones. 76 I’m looking at you, you big asshole game.) honestly I hate online games, so none of that junk, just a good old fashioned open world sandbox game is plenty. Games for me are an escape from others, not an invitation to socialise. To each their own of course, and I do play online games sometimes, just pretty short lived ones, over watch and rdr2 for example. Would they be sometimes better on private servers? Yes of course, fallout76? Want to play with others? No. I do not. Please leave me alone. And if you buy a private server you’re feeding the monster that is Todd Howard, the man the myth the asshole, then we’ll get more bad games like 76. I just so desperately want the Pokemon company to see what a beautiful potential game they’ve got on their hands, that could be suitable for far greater audiences, but instead they’ve focused on the kids. It’s fine, it’s functional, but it’s lost to the fans from day 1, that are all 20+ years old now and want something meatier to play, something far more broad and inclusive. I also hate that there’s no wheelchair option in any Pokemon game. Like cmon, it’s not hard to include that.

In short, BOTW + Pokemon, with a sprinkle of open world sandbox to it, less fighting, more fun. Or, at least both options. Sure, go fight everything, great, but I want to farm carrots over here with 6sunflora, plz let me have some peace.

Edit: I forgot about harvest moon, chuck some of that in there too.

SECOND EDIT: someone in the comments mentioned to put this in Unova? Plz love yourselves, this game would be ALL MAPS. Stuff one singular location, this is the ideal game, put every map in it, join them, put islands in, make them more explorable, more detailed!

[inked-spirit]

Y,know how I said I had another au, and had a small oneshot for it:)

Well here's the oneshot, and bonus very out of context because I haven't talked about it yet. Hyrule meets Legend scene! Au is still being put together and is not really thought out much, but it does include the other under-appreciated links, such as Picori (whose also in this small written piece), Spirit, and Tempo. (Will add more if I find out there's others)

Pre-warning I don't know how to do the undercut thing with posts, so it's very long.

Enjoy:)

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Okay, at this point Hyrule knew he was lost. Very lost.

The further he treked through the thick foilage to find his way back to the fountain. The weaker it's magic became, he was getting further away from it with each passing second.

He knew his sense of direction was terrible but this was just ridiculous.

He tried to call out to any fellow fairy or family that could hear him, to no avail.

It was almost dark, as the sun descended beneath the trees. A few stars making themselves present early. His faint glow making itself known in the growing dark. A pale green.

Pushing through a few more bushes, he comes to a small clearing. Taken up mostly by a decently large pond. It looked pretty deep too.

He felt no fairy magic emanating from the waters and with a disappointed huff sat down beside the ponds rocks.

There was a different kind of magic in the pond though, at the bottom. It felt safe, and somehow he knew it wouldn't hurt him.

Staring up at the stars once more, he sent a prayer to whatever goddess was listening that he'd find his home soon, his mother must be worried sick he hasn't come home before night fall.

He was tired, straying so far from his mother's magic had taken a toll on him. Placing a minor protection spell on the small clearing, he dropped his travel bag on the floor and pulled out a blanket. Nestling himself into a comfortable position using his bag as a pillow of sorts.

"Goodnight mom." He whispered, as he let his eye lids finally close to get some rest.

---

When he woke up it was to a shadow looming over him. He groaned as his eyes slowly opened to meet with a pair of violet ones.

A pale face that looked at him quizitivelly from above. This figure tilted there head at him with a curious glint in there eyes. Short pink hair swept to once side dropping slightly. His long pink bangs swaying beneath his face to the gentle wind.

His eyes widened as he woke up fully, staring at the one above him, whose eyes also widened.

The boy (as he guessed) lept into the pond with a graceful splash and pained gasp. Hyrule rushed to get up. Packing his blanket away and comfortably getting his bag on. He sensed pain was on the boy. He was hurt.

He jumped to the waters edge and peered down to look for the other, finding nothing. Until they peeked there eyes out of the water, brows forrowwed.

"I-im sorry for startling you. I didn't mean to scare you like that." He apologised sitting down in his spot.

The other looked away for a moment before peeking his Head out further so he could see his mouth.

"It's okay. I've just never seen one of your kind before." He replied. His voice was smooth and kind.

Never seen a fairy?

"I've only ever read about fairys in books back home, but fairys were written to be smaller. Your like a very small great fairy, why is that?" The boy asked with a tilt of his head.

"Oh, that's because I'm a great fairy in training." He answered slowly. His eyes trailing to the faint red in the water. The wound.

The boy seemed satisfied with his answer, a small hesitant trust being formed.

"I couldn't help but notice your hurt. Would you mind if I healed you?" He asked, wringing his wrists.

This took the boy by suprise and with small slow nod, he swam closer and reached his arm out of the water. There was a few scars here and there, and what looked like a golden fin across the back of his arm. The boy looked away at first, but once the fairy started to let his magic flow he watched in awe. As the green magic knitted the bloody cut on his arm back together.

When Hyrule pulled his arms away, cutting the magic off, the boy admiring his newly healed arm.

"Did you hurt it on the rocks when I startled you?"

A knod, before the other perked up.

"I'll be back in a second." At that the boy dove under and after about a minute or two he came back up with some cut fish in hands.

"For you." He dropped them on the ground beside Hyrule, awaiting a response.

For a moment he just looked between the other and the fish, before giving an akward smile.

"Oh thank you." He chuckled nervously.

The boy just continued to wait patiently.

"What do I do with them?"

"You eat them, its food."

Glancing down at the fish, he curiously picked one up and went to take a bite.

"Wait y-you cook it first. You were gonna eat it raw?" The boy exclaimed with concern.

Oh.

With a snap of his fingers a small flame appeared in his palm. Growing by the second and so he started to roast it.

Once done (although he burned it in a few places). He finally took a bit. It was juicy but dry, no doubt his own doing. And tasted plain but salty. The burnt bits tasted bitter. But all in all it satisfied him. After his first bite, he set it down and cooked another, holding it out to the boy in the pond.

"I realized I never asked for your name, I'm Hyrule." He spoke, as the boy gingerly took the offered fish.

"I'm Legend." He took a bite and grimaced at first to the taste but settled.

He packed the rest of the fish away in his bag after asking if the boy wanted anymore.

Crossing his legs and resting his head in his palms.

"Hey, ive been meaning to ask. Why do you stay in the pond?"

The boys face frorrowed, his eyes traced the rocks instead of the fairy, and lifted what the fairy assumed was his version of legs. A large white blotched amareanth fishtail, lined with golden fins, some tattered near the end but not much.

"Oh you can't go that far." He spoke sadly.

"Yeah, no legs means no land travel. Fish tail means water travel only." He said simply.

"Do you live in this pond, have any family around here?" He asked a pit forming in his gut.

Legend shook his head,

"I was dropped here on accident by poachers after the few days travel they had me. I've been stuck in this pond for almost a whole week now if in correct. I lived in Hylia lake, with my uncle."

Lake Hylia!

That was at least a few days travel from his fountain, how far did the poachers go to abduct him?

He wanted to help he really did, but what could he do?

...

Then like a blessing from above, an idea popped in his head. Details would be thought of next. But he had an idea, and he was going to help this weird hylian.

Hyrule brightened immediately.

"Hey, what if I took you home? Act as your guide across the lands." Hyrule suggested.

Legend looked at him as if he grew two heads.

"How are you going to do that?"

He didn't know but maybe he could carry Legend to his fountain when he found it and ask his mother for advice. She always knew what to do.

"I could take you to my fairy fountain and find out what to do from there." He suggested, with a shrug and nervous smile.

The pink haired kid, tilted his head in thought before giving a nod.

"That could work. Better than being stuck in here till the day i die."

Thankfully a thought on what he could do came to mind. An friend could possibly help.

"Perfect! It's settled then!" At that Hyrule brought his point finger and thumb to his mouth and gave a shrill whistle.

He waited a full minute or two before a small willow bird swooped in and perched in his hair.

A small mouse like creature getting off its back and peeking over his forehead from his hair. The creature no bigger than a hylians thumb.

"Hyrule! Long time no see!" The small thing squeaked cheerfully.

They clung to a curl of hair and dropped onto Hyrules waiting palm. The fairy chuckling at the small person?

"It has, hasn't it?" He laughed. Before the small mouse caught eye with Legend.

"A hylian in the pond? And it seems they can see me?" They chittered.

"I dont think hes a hylian. Either he isn't or he is and hes a weird one." Hyrule whispered.

"I'm a mer, deffintly not hylian. And what is that thing in your palm." Legend asked from the water resting his arms on the sand dirt edge.

Oh so that's what he was, he was going to ask mother about that later.

"This is Picori, of the Minish. He's been my best friend, since I could even walk. He may be able to help us with our problem." Hyrule smilled.

"That explains the pond, hylians tend to hate getting wet in clothing." Picori huffed.

Hyrule hummed before, leaning closer to the Minish in his palm. Whispering something Legend couldn't hear or understand with the change in Hyrules language.

Hyrule backed up, and Picori seemed to hum before saying something to the other.

"Alright, Legend I'm going to need to carry you for this next part, would you be okay with that?" Hyrule looked over to the mer in question expectantly.

"Where are you taking me, exactly?" He asked, pulling himself out of the water.

And now, could Hyrule so the rest of him properly. He had what looked like a black tunic like shirt, long sleeves folded above the elbows, and a collar he now folded up, hidding the gills on his neck.

A black and silver belt wrapped around his waist and bottom half of the tunic.

The metal emited no familiar heat, safe.

"Cori has a solution to our problem." He chirped, putting Picori on his shoulder, and reaching to pick Legend up.

Abite difficult and painstakingly Hyrule managed to carry him bridal style, in the directions Picori instructed.

Being meet with a tree stump, that radiated the same magic Picori did.

"Place him on the stump and me on his shoulder." Picori instructed.

Hyrule nodded gently and put Legend on the stump. Next reaching a hand for Picori to climb on and let him onto legends shoulder.

"Tell him not to freak out with this next part, they always do the first go around." Picoris muttered, Hyrule relaying the message.

"Okay now I'm worried, what's the small guy on my shoulder planning." Legend asked nervously.

Hyrule lifting hands to gently take the bird from his head, placing her down on a nearby rock with a pet.

"You'll see in a second." The fairy smiled with a tilt of his head, hair falling with the motion. Before he shrank in the blink of an eye. To a normal fairys size, Legend could only blink dumbly as Hyrule fluttered in place, waiting he noticed.

Picori chittering something from his shoulder, before he felt a strong magic pull him. He landed with an oof on giant mushrooms inside a what looked like the inside of the stump he was sitting on.

Wait-

A small thumping alerted the presence of the Minish, who was now almost the same size as himself (Almost, he was still tiny compared to the others), as he scampered over and helped the merman down from the fungi, and over to a waiting Hyrule by the exit of the stump. The minish and fairy sharing a quick tight hug, before the merman was picked up and held again.

The minish handed Legend a small pale brown thing that looked edible, smelled bitter, but nice. And was told to eat it by Hyrule.

It was an uncomfortable mess with his hearing, a soft static and deafness before it settled and he could understand the mouse guys greeting.

Getting a good look at the world as it was now that he was smaller. It looked huge, and so much more different, things he'd never notice before in full view now. All though he'd never really seen what the surface had to offer anyway. Intill the poachers of course. But still.

"I better grow again before I'm returned home." Legend smirked.

Getting a short laugh from Hyrule.

"You will when when we get to my fountain."

Picori blew a quick whistle with his pinky fingers at a higher note than Hyrules from before. The willow bird peered up, and flapped over. Awaiting it's riders to board.

"You do know where my fountain is, right Picori?" The fairy asked with a nervous chuckle.

The minish nodded getting on the birds back.

No one needed to know he was lost, and add to his reputation. So it went unsaid.

Once they were all situated and Legend was held securely. The bird shot up into the sky at Picoris gentle command.

End

Good day/night whoever read this, hope your doing good^^

[elstreem]

ALBW One-Shot: The Sword and the Shadow

Heya, so more writing stuff! This one is technically finished but prolly needs edits.

To summarize, the spirit of the Master Sword meets with a lad with her master's face on one late night.

As usual, if this is too hard to read, here's the G docs: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Pjs3LhclohUslR_ZQ55N1y8qQ3nZ640EJgn_5c-6HSg/edit?usp=sharing

ALBW: The Sword and the Shadow

Night lay deep on Hyrule, the late hour quiet except for the occasional rustle of the grass. Ravio peered outside and sighed in relief – despite his fears, none of the monsters patrolling outside had ever thought to come inside the houses of Hyrule. Whistling to his only companion, his pet bird named Sheerow, he proceeded to lie down on the dusty rug, the only comfortable place to rest on. It wasn’t always so – a few days ago, it was the neat and cozy home of a blacksmith’s apprentice. Ravio had changed that, and the former home was currently devoted to being an item shop. Not that it looked much like a shop - the display tables formed a rectangle, but most of them were empty, displaying only a few placards which proclaimed most of the items were on rent. Only a Fire Rod was left, sparkling in the lamplight.

Though he should have happily dozed off, Ravio felt rather restless and try as he might, could not get himself to feel sleepy. With a sigh, he realized he had to do something to pass the time. The only problem was there wasn’t much to do when there are monsters outside and your only companion is a pet bird. Looking around the house, the Fire Rod caught his eye, and with a huff, he stood up, expecting little more than a quiet night polishing the magical item. Ravio was just picking up the wand to dust it off when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Instantly alert, he clutched the Fire Rod to himself and anxiously peered out of the window. A warm glow came up the hill on which the house stood, and in a few moments a slight figure limped its way up the slope. Ravio perked up and immediately returned the Fire Rod to its display table, before eagerly bustling off to the front of the house to welcome his only customer. The door had barely opened when Ravio did his usual greeting.

“Hello, Mr. Hero!” Ravio chirped, sounding a bit like Sheerow.

“Here to rent -?”

But he stopped short in surprise. Garbed in green and with a sword in hand, the Hylian named Link looked like a hero straight out of the legends, but a very exhausted one. The hand he was using to carry a lantern was shaking slightly, and aside from the usual dirt from his adventures, a nasty cut was also on his face.

“Need to sleep,” Link groaned, limping into his home.

“Hang on, let me just, uhh, dig out your bed,” Ravio said, looking around at Link’s furniture, which he had wildly pushed to the walls to make the space for his shop.

“This will do,” Link mumbled, lying down on the rug. He just about placed his sword back into its sheath before he collapsed into sleep. Ravio gasped and hurried to his side, and was relieved to see Link breathing – in fact, he was already snoring.

“Phew, you scared me Mr. Hero…” Ravio murmured. Checking once more to see if the Hylian was truly, deeply asleep, he felt confident enough to remove his mask. Without the distinctive rabbit hood, Ravio could almost be mistaken for the youth sleeping on the floor. From the shape of their eyes, the same pointed tips to their ears, and even the way the hair fell down their faces, they were incredibly alike. There were only two differences: while Ravio’s hair was the purple of falling dusk, Link’s was the gold of noonday sun, and though the Hylian’s eyes were closed at the moment, his eyes were blue to Ravio’s green. Perhaps it had something to do with the worlds they lived in, and Ravio sometimes wondered if he too, might have had golden hair and blue eyes if he had grown up in a world filled with light. He shook the thoughts away and stood up. He went to the roughly stacked furniture and scrounged for a blanket, before returning to Link’s side and sitting down again. Sheerow landed on his shoulder and gave a curious chirp, making Ravio smile.

“Of course, we only look alike, Mr. Hero and I. The similarity is only skin-deep, but it would frighten anyone to see someone look much like themselves. I suppose he’ll only want to see his own face in a mirror,” Ravio softly said to Sheerow. With a sigh, he pulled on his hood again, wincing at the stuffy feeling of having it back on his head. With his face hidden away, Ravio then gently draped the blanket over Link, but on noticing the sheathed sword still within Link’s hand, he paused. It was definitely new – the sword Link had been using was a plain old sword, sharp and a good blade, yes, but nothing remarkable, especially when it was tucked away in its nondescript brown scabbard. This one was sheathed in a beautiful blue scabbard, richly decorated with gold ornaments, with the holy symbol of the Triforce prominently featured. The hilt of the sword was all that was visible, but it was certainly anything but ordinary. The hilt was made of a crystalline material, carved into the shape of wings that jutted away from the blade. It was enough for Ravio to recognize that this was the legendary blade spoken of in Hyrule - the Master Sword.

Awed, he couldn’t help himself from going closer to gaze at it. Even without knowledge about the history of Hyrule, Ravio could tell that this sword was sacred, meant to banish evil. Scarcely daring to breathe, he reached out to touch it, thoughts careening wildly in his mind. With a sword like this, maybe, just maybe, he could…he could do…

Nothing. Still nothing, because I’m only a coward.

The thought came like a splash of icy water, and Ravio flinched, fingers stopping short of touching the sword. A bitter frown formed on his face – while very unwelcome, the truth still held fast, and that truth was that he was a coward at heart, and he knew it. Only a coward after all, would have fled and left a princess when she needed him most…he was no hero. With a sigh, Ravio dropped his hand, his fingers brushing against the sheath of the sword.

In the next moment, a blinding flash lit up the inside of the house.

Ravio yelled in surprise and threw up his arms to shield his face. It was a dazzling silver light, and it burned his sight much like the sun of Hyrule has burned him when he first came through the chink between worlds. But as quickly as the light had come, it faded, and sensing this change, Ravio carefully lowered his arms and blinked away the spots dancing in his eyes. As soon as his senses cleared, he was aware of Sheerow making an alarmed racket next to his ear. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, and realized why the bird was behaving so strangely. With his heart hammering away at his chest, Ravio scrambled back, his mouth open to scream, but sadly, his voice got stuck somewhere in his throat and would not come out.

There was an intruder in the house, and she was definitely a cause for alarm.

For starters, she was floating in the air, close to the ceiling. The sight reminded Ravio of the Great Fairies that were scattered across the land, but she had no wings at her back. Also similar to the fairy folk, she was very beautiful. Her face was young and smooth, her blue skin glowing with a metallic sheen. She was clad in the colors of the sky and dusk, her fluttering robes fit for royalty, richly dyed purple and blue, and threads of gold running through her dress.

For all her beauty and regal air, however, she also looked frightening.

“Ahhh…aaargh –!“ The pieces of a scream started to come out of Ravio’s mouth, but a voice cut across the sounds of his distress.

“Please refrain from creating noise,” the voice instructed in formal tones. Ravio saw the spirit’s mouth move, and he supposed only she could have spoken in such a voice – it sounded like a girl’s voice, but also otherworldly, echoing as though she was speaking from the end of a tunnel.

Ravio's voice, on the other hand, decided to crawl back into his throat and cowered there, and he ended up just shutting his mouth and scooching away. Sheerow perched on his shoulder and stayed there, trembling occasionally.

The spirit looked on curiously, and satisfied that Ravio seemed to have quieted down, she floated down until her feet touched the ground, just beside Link. At that sight, Ravio was about to stand up, a sudden feeling of protectiveness coming over him. He couldn't let Link be harmed by this spirit - he was the only hope for their kingdoms (as well as his only source of business.)

But before Ravio had even shifted his weight, the spirit sat down, neatly folding her legs under herself. She also draped part of her cloak over Link's sleeping form, and though her face hardly changed, Ravio thought there was deep fondness in her eyes. Her gestures and mannerisms - Ravio sensed a devotion in them, of a bond that had been forged long ago.

"What is your relation to my master?"

"Huh?" Ravio asked.

"What is your relation to Master Link? You share his home and your auras are very similar," the spirit said.

"I…I'm Ravio. I guess…I'm like his counterpart in this world," Ravio said. He briefly pulled his hood away to show the spirit his face. She did not look fazed at all to see Ravio's face, and only nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"Processing information…processing complete. You are not of Hyrule, but of a world also created by the Goddesses. Greetings, Ravio. I am Fi, servant of Master Link, spirit of the Master Sword."

"Servant…so you've been looking after Link here?" Ravio asked.

"Only very recently in this life," Fi replied. Ravio got goosebumps - the way Fi said it, he could only guess how many times she had performed this role. "I am sworn to serve my master, in any age that evil wakes to threaten this land,” she added.

“So...you’ve done this before then? Save Hyrule?” Ravio asked.

“Yes,” Fi answered simply.

“Then - then please -” Ravio came closer, aware of the desperation in his own voice.

“Please - save my own kingdom. No - save my princess,” Ravio said, bowing his head so low that his forehead touched the ground.

“I couldn’t do my duty to her. But you - and Link - you can do what I couldn’t. Right?” Ravio said, raising his face to look at Fi in the eyes.

“Once, long ago, I failed my master, and Hyrule fell to ruin. I cannot guarantee that it will not happen again,” Fi said. Ravio got a lump in his throat and fell silent.

“Any time we face down the dark forces against Hyrule, my master faces a 90% chance of failure. It is the same situation now.” Fi looked at Link’s face, a master she had grown to truly love over the ages. And with that love she had also felt his pain, and now, she felt hurt to see him wounded and in danger.

“But even with the low chances of success, I will do my utmost to prevent the same downfall,” Fi said, her words gaining an edge as sharp as her blade. Then she looked at Ravio, her eyes still blank and expressionless but somehow it felt like she was looking through him.

“If you are to prevent what you fear the most, you must act,” Fi said.

“But if I can’t find the courage to do so…” Ravio said, lowering his head.

“Then, act with love.”

Ravio looked up, his words trailing into a stutter of surprise. The spirit of the sword, a legend who had endured countless ages...her lips were unmistakably curved in a warm, fond smile. It was a sight that no one, save Link, had ever seen.

And the sight of her smile reminded Ravio of long-ago days, when the princess he loved did not yet bear the burden of saving a fallen kingdom...

“The hour grows late, and you will need strength for days to come. You should also get sleep,” Fi suggested. Ravio started, not realizing that he was lost in thought.

“Oh, but-”

“Do not worry. I shall keep watch,” Fi said. She stood up and floated over to the window, humming a lonely melody. Ravio blinked - it was like all his exhaustion caught up with him all of a sudden, and he lay down, his mind clear of all worries. He didn’t know what he was meant to do yet, but...he shut his eyes and slept, dreaming about light for once.

Alone, Fi looked out into the night, and when a curious Sheerow perched on her shoulder, she did not mind.

-------

“Up and at them, Mr. Hero!”

Link groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He knew he heard a wonderful, familiar song in his dreams, but he couldn’t quite remember it…

“Breakfast?”

A warm and sweet aroma perked Link up, and he looked to see Ravio pass him a tray, on which there was a bottle of milk, still-warm bread and apple slices. Link looked down at the tray and then up again at Ravio, and his wonder must have shown in his face because Ravio put up his hands.

“Ooh, surprised? Well, so am I! I was only looking forward to some apples for breakfast but a really nice lady passed by and left this food. I think she said she was the Blacksmith’s wife? Anyway, she said it was for you for finding...Gunney or someone,” Ravio explained in a chirpy tone.

Link’s mouth watered - he hadn’t had a proper meal in forever, it seemed, and barely had Ravio finished when he tore into the food.

“Whoa, adventuring sure gives you an appetite huh? Anyway, you’ll be going out again, yeah?” Ravio said. Link nodded, crumbs sticking all over his face.

“...well, take care, you hear me?”

Some time later, Ravio repeated the sentiment as Link was heading out, and the Hylian cocked his head at him, puzzled by Ravio’s behavior. Sure, he was pretty cheerful, but laid-back, and Link wondered why Ravio was being positively sunny. Shrugging it off, he walked out, not seeing Ravio wave cheerfully at his back - or the Master Sword twinkling briefly as they set off on another journey together.

[nonasidesstuff]

the dimension travel au

aka Virgil’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

so this is like half bullet fic half outline half word vomit but here it is!

this is based on a set of art drawn by @greenninjagal-blog that you can find here with the original version of this au

i dont mind if anyone wants to use any of these ideas just tag me/send me a link if you do!

this got SUPER LONG so its going under a cut

ok lets start with

virgil

his world is medieval-with-magic

the magic here tends to take on different elemental forms depending on the user

people who use magic are called witches

his is storm based (lightning, rain, wind, etc) and is good for both offense (shooting fucking LIGHTNING at someone is great in a fight) and gardening (the ability to call rain at will is pretty nice)

he can also make potions but in his world ANYONE with magic can make potions

the thing is,,,,, magic is illegal in the kingdom he lives in

so when he found out he had magic at like age 11 he fucked off in the middle of the night

he found another witch (a water witch) fairly soon after he left and they taught him how to control his powers and how to make potions

also how to hunt bc hed planned on living out of cities

5 years later hes 16 and has learned all he could and leaves to go to the woods in the middle of nowhere

his teacher had told him about a cottage they had built in a clearing in the woods and said he could go there bc they were leaving the kingdom

they left behind a lot of books on magic and he learned more reading those

the cottage was actually in pretty good shape? the roof was a little leaky but the furniture inside was fine

the outside was a nightmare though. overgrown plants all over

as the years went on he restored the area around the cottage and found a bunch of neat stuff

like a vegetable garden that had been overgrown and wild but still had healthy plants he could cultivate for food. there were also some spice plants that had gone out of control that he harvested and dried for later use

he found out the woods around his home were full of berries (wild strawberries and blackberries. shhhhhh idc if they dont grow in the same places this is a Magic World) and discovered that one of the trees in the clearing was actually an apple tree so yay fruit!!!!

so he was living the good life

cut to 3 years later

hes 19 now and a full-blown weather witch and potion maker

he has sectioned off his garden into 3 parts: spices, vegetables, and potions ingredients

unfortunately some ingredients just wont grow well in a garden and have to be harvested from the wild

virgil realizes hes running low on a couple of said ingredients and decides to make a run to the patches of potion herbs he knows of

he only gets halfway there

a swirling blue-and-yellow vortex opens up 20 feet in the air to the right of him and something falls out

something human shaped

holy shit its a PERSON

he rushes over to make sure this person is okay and.

they have reddish brown fox ears?????

and a reddish brown and grey tail????????

he pokes one of the ears and it twitches

holy shit theyre REAL????!!!!!!!!!

he gathers up this person and takes them home

he puts the strange person in his bed and tends to the minor injuries they obtained from falling 20 feet

this is when he realizes that this person is dressed,,,,,, very strangely

now, people in virgil’s world have some freedom in what they can wear. they can wear whatever the FUCK they want. virgil is partial to dresses and skirts himself

but what this person is wearing is different. the material was like nothing hed ever seen before and in a strange style

(it suits him. its really cute)

he slept for a little over 9 hours

(virgil slept on the floor)

and when he woke he was disoriented and woozy

so he ate a small meal and drank some water and fell back to sleep for another couple hours

when he wakes again, he feels much better and is able to introduce himself

“I’m Patton Baker! Where am I?”

patton

his world is like if you took every single magical girl/boy anime out there and mashed it into one world.

so its chaotic

theres aliens/demons/monsters attacking every other week

this attracts magical creatures like a magnet and they start giving magical girls/boys powers. these are called magical guardians

these people are public figures and are treated the same way idols are in our world (not allowed boyfriends/girlfriends etc)

its a tough job

patton became a magical boy when he was 14 and has been for the past 3 years

the powers his magical guardian are able to give are based off of endangered or threatened animals (yes im sort of copying tokyo mew mew shhhhhhhhhh)

patton became infused with the dna of the island fox

his transformation is triggered by a small tattoo-like marking given to him by his guardian. it’s on the base of his neck

he Absolutely has a magical girl transformation

when he’s transformed, he has the ears and tail of an island fox as well as claw-like nails. his hair is the reddish-brown of the fox and his eyes are silver

his outfit is light blue with silver and white accents and dark blue sleeves

when detransformed he has blond hair and blue eyes

his magical boy weapon is a bow that he can shoot arrows of light from

his group was based out of florida and has been going strong for about 15 years. magical teens come and go as they gain their powers and retire or, tragically, lose their lives fighting

at the moment there are six people including patton

their most recent foe is a monster that has the ability to make people and things disappear, and they’re not sure what happens to them

theyre fighting this thing at night when it happens. the creature has already taken the streetlights out and the teens are fighting in heavy darkness. patton, who has better night vision due to his fox genes, sees the monster about to grab the leader, and strongest, of their group

and he makes a choice

he pushes her out of the way and gets grabbed by the monster instead.

there’s a single moment of searing pain and then the world dissolves into swirling lights and dizziness

when he wakes he’s in a strange house. he introduces himself and the person who’s taking care of him introduces himself

he’s told he fell out of some sort of portal and virgil tries to help him figure out where he is in relation to his home but. virgil doesnt recognize any of the places patton is talking about. and patton doesnt recognize any of the ones virgil says

virgil asks patton about the fact that He Is Part Fox and patton talks about the magical system back home and thats when they realize theyre dealing with dimension travel

patton stays in bed for the rest of the day and by the next hes feeling much better! so he helps virgil around the house and they get to know each other

the day after that, virgil remembers that he really needs those herbs, so he tells pat hes going out for a bit to gather them

he gets about a quarter of the way there when Another Portal Opens and dumps out a person. this time right in front of him

this person is also wearing odd

clothing, but in a different style than pattons

he checks to make sure theyre not injured (they knocked their head a bit but other than that seem fine) and carries them back home

the person is unconscious in virgil’s bed for a couple of hours longer than patton was, but he wakes up entirely coherent

he introduces himself as “logan croft”

logan

his world is one full of magic

magical creatures of all sorts live there and magic is a welcome part of society

there’s elves, fairies, merfolk, unicorns, any you can think of

magical schools are also big parts of it

people who have mastered their magic to the highest degree are called mages

everyone else are called wizards

the way magic works in this world is with spells (think harry potter but without wands)

some people are born with more magic than others and as such have a harder time controlling it when it manifests at around 10

so theyre sent to magic schools where they learn how to safely do so

if they want to stay at these schools after they learn control then they move on to higher forms of magical education to continue learning

logan is one of these students

he was born with a MASSIVE amount of magic and when it manifested he. accidentally leveled his house

everyone was fine!!!!!!! but the poor boy had absolutely no control

so he stayed at a school for people with high amounts of magic and by the time he was 13 he had enough control to leave if he wanted to

of course this being logan he Absolutely wanted to keep learning so he moved on

he was so good actually that he ended up in the best magic academy in the world

he consistently learned magic at a faster rate than his peers and so by the time he was 18 (people normally didnt until they were like 21/22) he was a mage in all but name

so he was ready to take his mage exam

the mage exam is considered both easy and the hardest and most dangerous thing you could do

its easy in the fact that you only have to cast a spell correctly

its hard and dangerous bc its a spell that NO ONE outside of historians have ever seen before and you only have 10 minutes to memorize it. things go wrong Frequently

needless to say there arent many mages and people tend to either quit before reaching that stage or fail

and failure can be painful

so logan decides to take the mage exam

the spell they are given is a long string of words dug out of an ancient book of spells and historians arent entirely sure what it does

so ofc its given to the best in the academy

logan takes his ten minutes to memorize the spell and begins chanting

now in this world, when spells are used a runic circle made of light appears under the person casting

small spells have small circles and bigger spells have larger and brighter ones

the one this spell called forwards was massive and so bright that it blinded the exam practitioners (i think thats the word?)

when the light died down logan was gone

theyre unsure whether it went right or wrong but unfortunately theres no trace of where logan had gone so theres no way to see

when he wakes hes somewhere he doesnt recognize and is being taken care of by two people

they all introduce themselves and logan gets the story about what happened to him

and he realizes hes in a different dimension with different magical rules

naturally he wants to learn everything

so he and virgil have long discussions about the differences in their magic systems

(with patton chiming in every once in a while with how bonkers magical girl powers are)

after logan gets back on his feet virgil really REALLY needs those herbs and so he decides to go back out

logan tags along this time bc he wants to see the differences between the flora and fauna of this new world

they get about half way there and once again.

a portal opens

its light blue and yellow

virgil goes “jesus christ AGAIN??????? am i a MAGNET for these things??????????”

and a person falls out

theyre another animal person. this time with scales covering the side of their face and down their arms

virgil and logan carry this whole other person back home and as soon as they walk in

patton is like “janus????!!!!!”

janus

turns out

janus is from pat’s world!!!! and the same mg group!!!!!

he became a magical boy about a year before pat did and was merged with the dna of a golden lancehead viper

so hes been a mg for like 4 years

his outfit is white with yellow bows and a black cape thing with a yellow inside. his scales are bright yellow and his eyes are heterochromatic. one is a normal eye (brown) and the other is a bright gold color with a snake-like pupil

his marking is on the inside of his left wrist

his weapon is a set of knives made of light that he can call at will and either slash with or throw

he and patton got along rather well in the current time

in the past, they,,,, didnt

it wasnt violent but they were kinda snippy at each other and janus was aggressively sarcastic which pat Did Not Appreciate

but after working together for a few years they got to know each other better and saw each other through low points in their lives and became close

janus was still a sarcastic little shit but now its more playful

he likes to suggest “pushing it down a flight of stairs” for any problem

“man i have a big math test tomorrow with a mean teacher that i didnt study for im screwed”

“push it down the stairs”

“the teacher or the test?”

“yes”

he will also aggressively remind you that Self Care Is Good And Needed

(“patton youve been patrolling for hours every night this week. go sleep”

“but i-“

“go 👏 to 👏 sleep 👏”

“bu-“

“go sleep or im going to knock you unconscious and THEN youll sleep”

“ok fine”)

anyways the dimension monster came back and despite the whole group being more careful, it got janus

luckily (to every one else) this time they managed to defeat it

once again, the pain of dimensional travel fucking SUCKED and janus was unconscious for about as long as patton was

he woke and ate a small meal and fell back asleep for like an hour

when he woke up that time he was shocked and happy to see patton

they reunite and everyone gets to know each other over the next couple days

and then virgil remembers that he STILL HASNT GOTTEN HIS HERBS and they all decide to tag along when he leaves to get them

virgil just like sighs and said “nothing better happen this time i swear to god-“

and they make it most of the way there!!!!! virgil feels a little hope!!!!

then another portal opens

its red and green

(virgil: “GODDAMMIT”)

this time TWO people fall out

the group gather up the two portal people and take them home to heal bc

holy shit they are in bad condition

theyre unconscious for a solid 2 days

Roman and remus

their world is BAD yall

the world is very scientifically advanced, and a group if scientists decided that they wanted to prove the existence of alternate universes

and they did!

but they accidentally opened a portal to a hell dimension and they couldnt close it

so the whole world became an apocalyptic nightmare

this happened when the twins were 15

theyve been surviving on their own in an apocalyptic hellscape for just over 4 years now

remus is the close range fighter with a variety of Large Sharp Knives and roman hangs back and snipes the ones going in for remus’ blind spots with a modified rifle. or if he has to fight closer range he has a modified pistol

roman also is the one to carry their medical supplies bc remus did Once and never will again

they travel together bc even though they cant stand each other some days (remus makes gross comments a Lot and roman likes to complain about the lack of conditioner)

(roman once found an old bottle of perfume and dumped it on remus’ head. in retaliation, when they were relatively safe remus found a dead squirrel and chased roman around with it for a solid 15 minutes)

theyre still twins and theyre all each other have left

currently, roman and remus are running from a creature that caught them off guard while they were sleeping

it had managed to get a few good hits on them before they managed to fight back so they both have a couple injuries

roman has a long slice down his arm and remus has some real bad claw marks down his back

the two of them find a building they can hide in while they wait for the creature to move on and discover that its some sort of science lab

they decide to explore for a bit bc they have 0 braincells between the two of them

what they dont realize is that this is one of the labs that the scientists were using to build their dimensional machines

what they do realize is that the monster found them and it starts chasing them through the facility

the two of them are in really bad shape

malnourished after living on just what they can find for 4 years, both bleeding profusely from open wounds and various injuries from other run-ins with the creatures

they arent able to run as fast as they usually are able and so they get cornered in a room with a large machine

they back up to it to stay away as long as they can and

one of them presses a button

the machine behind them whirrs to life and the two are sucked into a portal oh so similar to the one that ruined the lives of everyone on their world

roman wakes first

he wasnt hurt as badly as remus so the portal didnt take as much out of him as remus

everyone introduces themselves and roman has the his first full meal in. a long time

(he might cry a lil bit but shhhhhhh)

and now that hes awake, virgil can give him a potion to help speed up his healing

thats when romans like “holy shit MAGIC?????”

bc there was none on his world

and they all talk and get to know each other

(the other four are Horrified at how awful his world was

bc like, patton and janus’ wasnt very good either but it wasnt an apocalypse

the next day virgil leaves logan in charge and FINALLY goes and gets his GODDAMN HERBS

nothing happens this time :)

and when he gets back remus is awake

hes fed and virgil gets him a potion too

the two heal and just kind of marvel at the fact theyre safe for the first time in years

also that theres GODDAMN MAGIC!!!!!!!!!!

they still can’t believe theres actual magic

the five dimension hoppers eventually meet thomas, virgil’s talking magic cat

(virgil: “he can think and talk like a human hes not my cat”

thomas: “im totally your cat stop denying it”)

he decided to wander around the forest for a while (he does this often) and only got back after all of the portal shit ended

he is the only cat with magic and says he ALSO fell out of a portal but it was a few years before he met virgil

i dont really know what happens after this

maybe they go try to figure out how to get home?

maybe they decide to stay and live in the woods for the rest of their lives

 maybe they decide “you know what? FUCK the government” and stage a coup to make magic legal

 whichever it is definitely has a lot of found family goodness

can you tell i started running out of steam like 3/4 of the way through

[aprils-arcadia]

Killjoy

Members: Kihyun, Changkyun Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1,5k Summary: Once again Kihyun finds himself at the mercy of one of Changkyun’s drunk plans.

A heavy sigh escaped Kihyun’s mouth as he slowly noticed where they were headed. Changkyun had always been very good at taking back roads and weird shortcuts to throw Kihyun's sense of direction off, making him realize too late where they were going, too late to turn around.

The night was stuffy and humid and if it would have been up to him he’d have spent it holed up in his air-conditioned apartment instead of walking around in the middle of the night. Unsure where he was going but already dreading their arrival. He could feel his shirt stick to his body and cursed himself for having agreed to go out tonight. It would turn out like usual anyway. They turned a last corner and Kihyun was equally proud and agitated of having guessed correctly. 

Changkyun on the other hand was in a completely different mood. He’d been happily strolling down the narrow lanes and alleys for the past 20 minutes, seemingly devoid of worry or care. It was a nice change of pace and Kihyun liked seeing him that way, that’s why even when he wasn’t in the mood he’d almost always agree to come along. Because for once it didn’t feel like the young man in front of him was carrying the weight of the world on his steadily broadening shoulders. Unfortunately this kind of thinking always got him to the same point. 

Another friday. Another fence.

 Changkyun had stopped in his tracks and turned around towards Kihyun, wearing his brightest smile. He gestured towards the fence and nodded. 

“Pretty good, huh?” He looked like a little kid wanting to be praised for finally having drawn the sun not in the corner but as a standalone wobbly circle - a truly magnificent feat.  

“Nope, not gonna happen.” Kihyun crossed his arms before his chest and briefly saw the mischievous glint in Changkyun’s eyes flicker. 

"Come on! Don't be such a chicken! It won't be dangerous." 

"You also said that the last time and we ended up in jail! So no thanks!" 

“That was one night. And it wasn't THAT bad.” Changkyun shrugged with his shoulders like the night had been equal to being downgraded from a 5-star hotel to a 4-star one. And not like they were forced to sleep sitting against a cold stonewall constantly questioning if closing their eyes would even be such a good idea.  

“Not that bad? May I remind you of that one creepy bloke that sat in the corner staring at us the entire time. And how in his end-of-the-world rant he told me to ‘watch out for the fairies’ because they were coming to steal my crackers.” 

“Dude that guy was hilarious. Come on you gotta admit it was completely worth it”

“Worth it? We broke into an aquarium at 3 am because and I am quoting here ‘the fishies might be lonely’.”

“You say that like it was a bad idea.” Changkyun said defensively.

“Because it was for God's sake and now? Now you want me to break into an amusement park. What is it with you and the desire for breaking and entering every time you get drunk.”

Over the last 4 years Kihyun had become pretty familiar with the two vastly different behaviours Changkyun exhibited while drunk. Either he’d turn deeply philosophical wanting to discuss the meaning of life and the existence of the universe for what always felt like a million years or he’d want to do something dangerous or in his words exciting. These déjà-vus had to stop but Kihyun wasn’t able to figure out how to break that circle yet.

“Because it's fun,” Changkyun simply said. “Isn’t it?”

Kihyun hated to admit this and the words would never leave his lips unless they’d be tortured out of him but it was fun. It was irresponsible and dangerous but the sight of the huge fish tanks illuminated only slightly was a sight he’d not forget so soon. The eerie sounds of the water lapping onto the glass that would never have been audible during the day. The opportunity to enjoy the place completely devoid of humans. He didn’t like how they got there and he surely disliked how they left but he greatly treasured those moments in between. 

“So let's hear it, what's your plan?” Kihyun asked purely out of curiosity. Maybe this time around Changkyun would have come prepared and not rely completely on his highly questionable ability to improvise.

“Easy. You give me a boost over the fence and then I'll pull you up.”

“That's the plan?”

“Yep”

“The whole plan?”

“Indeed.” Changkyun nodded sharply.

“You’re kidding, right?” Unfortunately Changkyun’s face remained unchanged. “That is not a plan. Not in the slightest. Seriously how is that supposed to be a plan?”

“Oh come on. It's not like you have a better idea.”

“I don't and you know why? Because I don't wanna end up in JAIL again.”

“But it would be so cool, don't you think? All the lights and the music.”

Kihyun looked towards the pitch-black park behind the fence and back to Changkyun.

“You do notice that everything is turned off right?” He said, cocking up his eyebrows and eyeing Changkyun in his perfectly patronizing way of stating the obvious to an apparently oblivious person. 

“But we can turn them on.” Changkyun stated matter-of-factly.

“No sh*t, Sherlock. Great idea. How do you intend to do that? Do you know where the control room is? How do you plan on getting in there? Please, do enlighten me.”

 “You know, I don’t like it when you ruin a perfectly good idea with all that realism. Why do you always have to be such a killjoy.”

“Killjoy?” Kihyun scoffed. “Seriously? Well one of us has to be the responsible adult in these scenarios. Otherwise you'd probably be dead in a ditch right now.”

“Like hell I would.”

“Do you even remotely recall all the things I prevented you from doing? Like at all? Believe me you’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for me.” Kihyun said, holding his head high.

“Yeah as if. And also we’ll never know because you are such a boring killjoy and wouldn't let me try it.”

“For good reason.” By now Kihyun's voice was raised and he could feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface. Why wouldn’t he listen. Once. Just once. 

Kihyun’s phone started to vibrate and snapped both of them out of their bickering before it would turn into a fight. 

“It’s Shownu. I gotta take this.” Kihyun felt the tension leave his body as he picked up the phone and heard the calm voice of his roommate. Kihyun walked a few steps further down the road but immediately regretted leaving Changkyun’s side the second he heard the distant clatter of metal. 

“Don’t you dare!” Kihyun turned around sharply, his eyes glaring at the young man that was now suspiciously close to the fence, tugging at the rusty chain links. Sometimes hanging out with Changkyun felt like babysitting a toddler that you couldn't leave alone for five seconds or they'd start chewing on the crayons.

Only their responses differed greatly from Changkyun, who dramatically gasped and placed his hand comically over his mouth and not to forget the middle finger flung in Kihyun’s direction. An especially rude toddler he might add.

 “Yeah got it. Thanks for letting me know.” Kihyun hung up. 

“What’s up with Shownu?” Changkyun yelled as Kihyun made his way back to him. “Did you ask him to come along?”

“No, I didn’t and there is still nothing for him to come along to because we are gonna head home now. Shownu just said that he will spend the night at work.”

“That’s perfect!” Changkyun exclaimed.

“And how is that?” 

“Obvious. He can bail us out anytime.”

“Shownu did not become a police officer just to bail your sorry ass outta jail everytime you so please.” Kihyun responded exasperatedly.

“But he definitely would. It’s the perfect night for this. Come on.”

Kihyun rubbed his forehead. This was getting exhausting. He knew the look in Changkyun’s eyes all too well and knew that he would not be able to stop him tonight. He’d have to trank him and carry him home if he wanted to achieve that. So the only reasonable thing left to do - and he hated himself for doing it - was to give in. 

“Arggh, to hell with this.” Kihyun grunted. “Let’s do this.” Because at least that way Changkyun would not get into trouble on his own and maybe he would be able to prevent at least some more severe incidents by not leaving Changkyun’s side.

“Awesome!” Changkyun was getting ready at the fence to give Kihyun a boost. 

“Great, so we’re not even following the tiny bit of a plan you had,” Kihyun said while already swinging across to the other side. “Just great.” 

[themurphyzone]

PatB Oneshot: Broken

Summary: Pinky’s just trying to help, but he may have unwittingly driven a wedge between himself and his best friend in the whole wide world.

AN: Inspiration comes from skimmingsurface’s 100 Ways to Feel. Specifically, #52 Broken.

FFN Link

So many pretty dizzy swirling stars! Pinky giggled, his entire body swaying like one of those spinny tops he could never get to spin for more than a few seconds. Brain really outdid himself on this plan with the Hip-Hop Scooper Austria Protractor, even though it went kaplooey and threw them off the building.

Still, it was fun pretending to be a champion skydiver while it lasted!

“Oh that was jolly good fun!” Pinky exclaimed. The dizziness let him go, but Pinky knew it would be back soon enough. Next time, they’d play tilt-a-whirl together for sure! Pinky always forgot to suggest that game. “Do they have medals for skydiving? I think my triple doozy cartwheel was worth a bronze. What do you think, Brain? Brain?”

Pinky looked around, but there was only the burnt metal of Brain’s creation and several chipped bricks around him.

“Are you playing Marco Polo, Brain?” Pinky massaged his temple in the same way Brain often did when he pondered deep ponderings. He could really use those little invisible beings that helped Brain come up with his plans right now. “Great idea! Marco!”

“HELP!”

Oh dear. Brain needed lessons on how to play Marco Polo. It was the one of the most important games of the day alongside Chase Me and Candyland after all.

“Marco!” Pinky called again.

A nearby brick shifted onto its side, revealing part of a pink, crooked tail underneath.

Pinky gasped, rushing to the other side of the brick, where Brain laid flat on his stomach with his limbs splayed out. “Brain, are you okay? Did the fall make you forget about Marco Polo?”

Brain gritted his teeth so hard Pinky thought they’d break. The Tooth Fairy would never visit him again if he didn’t have teeth!

“Of course I know who Marco Polo is, you…you imbecile,” Brain ground out, trying to push himself up. Pinky grabbed Brain’s arm to be helpful, but Brain drew a shuddering breath and yanked his arm away. “Get this brick off my tail at once.”

Pinky’s tail tingled, like it was smooshed under a brick too. It didn’t feel nearly as good as one of Brain’s bops though.  

“Okay, Brain,” Pinky said. He pushed his entire body against the brick, taking extra care to avoid stepping on Brain’s tail. Since the brick was already lopsided, he only had to push slightly harder than he normally pushed a pencil until it landed on a different side. “All clear!”  

Brain groaned and stood up, reaching behind his back and bringing his tail closer to inspect it. The break closest to his body made a small clicking noise, and Brain winced as he carefully felt the area the brick had unkindly smashed.

Pinky flicked his own tail, feeling the wavy and waggy sweeps he could make that Brain’s stiff tail never seemed to do. Now that he thought about it, Brain really only used his tail to open the cage. It wasn’t good for jumping rope or a pretend wand that magically made his voice louder.  

It was the saddest tale of a mouse’s tail he’d ever heard. Well, except for the movie with the little Russian mouse who got separated from his parents. That was even sadder.

“Another failure,” Brain sighed, finally letting go of his tail. It snapped back into place, the tip bent at an odd angle. “No portion of the Hyperscopic Astral Projector can be salvaged. Come, Pinky. We should head back to the lab and recuperate for tomorrow night.”

“What are we gonna do tomorrow night, Brain?” Pinky asked, following Brain out of the rubble. “Besides making cheese cube and chunky peanut butter sandwiches, of course.”

Brain whipped around, his fists clenching against his sides. His scowl deepened, even though Brain always scowled. But somehow it looked deeper.

“Brain, you’re all coily like a spring,” Pinky said. Nothing a quick massage wouldn’t fix though. “Not good for your shoulders. Nope. Not at all.”

He reached for Brain’s shoulders, but his hands were slapped away with a sharp smack.  

“Not in the mood, Pinky!” Brain snarled, his entire body wracked with tension. “Keep your absurd comments to yourself!”

Brain stomped far ahead of Pinky, and although he never remained out of sight for long, the distance was just too much for them to talk normally.

“Poit…” Pinky murmured to a faded poster of David Hasselhoff as he passed a Blockbuster store.

It just seemed like the only thing he could say, and Mr. Hasselhoff didn’t really offer any useful advice.

o-o-o-o-o

As soon as they got back to the lab, Pinky brought out the shared first aid kit. He hoped that a little TLC would help bring Brain’s super extra grumblyness down to normal grumblyness.

Brain scribbled angry red marks in his notebook with an equally angry red pen, slashing out a bunch of numbers arranged in a pattern that vaguely reminded Pinky of a goose. Or was it a rutabaga? Either way, Brain’s tail needed all the dinosaur bandages it could hold.

Dinosaur band-aids were happy. So were Disney Princess band-aids and superhero band-aids cause they gave him hugs on his owies and they’d stay there until it didn’t hurt anymore. But Pinky didn’t like removing them much cause that meant goodbye and the bandages never wanted to let go of his fur. So he let the bandages keep the fur they never meant to rip out as a going away gift.

Pinky opened the first aid kit, bringing out the magic salve that soothed all their aches and bumps and bruises and the dinosaur band-aids. Now if only he could pick a band-aid. That was always a toughie.

Sharpteeth’s arms were too tiny for a good hug, and longnecks and threehorns didn’t have arms at all. Flyers had wings they could wrap you in, and Pinky almost picked that, but then his hand brushed against the blue band-aid with a smiling mama swimmer and happy little baby swimmers.

A happy band-aid would give happier hugs! It was more obviouser than string cheese and chocolate pudding!

Pinky tucked the swimmer band-aid under his arm and walked over to Brain, who muttered furiously to himself as he slammed his hand against the calculator keys. Even the clacking was frantic and couldn’t be good for Brain’s palm at all.

“Impossible! I couldn’t have miscalculated the distance. There was enough range in the Projector to circle the globe two times over,” Brain growled, pacing in front of the number display, wincing with every step he took. But his feet continued to make the angry pitter-patter sounds. After about three or eight rounds of pacing across the counter, he finally looked up with a scowl. “What do you want, Pinky?”

“Oh, I filled up on cheese and food pellets before we left,” Pinky said as he unwrapped the swimmer band-aid. “My stomach doesn’t want anything right now. But your owies look like they could use a little something. Narf!”

Brain glanced at his tailtip, which was still hanging at an odd angle. “It hardly matters in the grand scheme of things, Pinky. A slight injury won’t incapacitate me. Whatever poor imitations of thoughts you have in your cotton-filled head are entirely unwarranted.”

“Oh no, Brain. I don’t have cotton in my head.” Pinky shook his head just to be certain. Nope. No cotton here. “It’s more like gum, actually.”

“Even worse,” Brain sighed.

Pinky waited a moment or two, but Brain made no move to fix himself up. Maybe he needed directions?

“So…” Pinky rocked on his heels. “You gonna apply the band-aid or-“

“I will if you’ll stop pestering me about it!” Brain snapped. He cast the swimmer band-aid aside and stomped past Pinky, pulling out a plain brown roll of bandages and a small bottle of water-that-didn’t-taste-like-water from the first-aid kit. With a small huff, Brain turned his back to Pinky and tried to reach around for his tail, only to find that it was a lot harder to bring it to the front since he’d waited too long to treat it.  

“Do you need help?” Pinky asked.

“No,” Brain said curtly. But his tail just wasn’t recuperating. And that wasn’t right. It was hurting Brain, so it was being a very bad tail right now.

He uncapped the bottle and squeezed it to get a little of the not-water out, then brushed his tailtip against the nozzle, managing to get a little of the not-water on the achy-breaky area.

Then Brain fidgeted for a while, turning every way he could to try and hold his tail and the bandages at the same time, but nothing seemed to work. He tried to straighten one of the bends in his tail, but his frown grew frownier and his foot stomped angrily. Then he tried to hold the bandages in place with his foot, but the roll…well, rolled away.

Pinky ran after the roll of plain bandages that didn’t have the swimmer band-aid’s happy colors, but if they still gave good hugs then it was alright if they didn’t have happy colors he could see. He caught the bandages before they could roll off the counter.

“Bad band-aids!” Pinky scolded the bundle in his arms as he carried them back to his bestest friend. “You’re supposed to be helping Brain!”

“They’re inanimate objects subject to the laws of physics, annoying as it may be,” Brain said, keeping both hands on his tail so it didn’t escape again. “Bring that roll over here and stay a considerable distance away from me while I wrap this up.”

Pinky set the roll next to Brain and backed up a few steps. “Is considerable more or less than an inch?”

Or maybe that was milliliters. Distances could be awfully confusing.

“Do I dare grace that with a response?” Brain muttered.

Pinky wondered what they were going to dare Grace to do, maybe lick a broom or quack like a horse.

Brain tried to wrap his tailtip again, but neither the bandages or tail were following instructions. He sat down, leaning forward to avoid hurting the other breaks in his tail, yet he got nowhere and Pinky was starting to have a very bad ache in his chest cause Brain wasn’t getting any closer to feeling better.

If the not-water helped Brain’s tail, maybe it would help Pinky’s ache too? Pinky squeezed the bottle, but he put his face too close to the nozzle and several drops of not-water splashed onto his nose instead. Giggling at his slight mishap, Pinky tried to touch his nose to his chest to get the dampness into the right place.

Except his nose didn’t want to touch his achy chest. Like how he couldn’t lick his elbow. Unless there was a mirror. Then he could lick the mirror Pinky’s elbow.

“Pinky! Stop grooming yourself in such a primitive manner!” Brain scolded. “If you’re truly a genetically spliced mouse, then act like it!”

“Zort! Okay, Brain,” Pinky nodded, rubbing his damp nose with one hand. “How’s your achy-breaky tail?”

Brain rolled his eyes. “At a most unfortunate and unreachable area for me to attempt alone, as much as I detest admitting it. Since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful and“- his shoulders stiffened- “hold my tail while I wrap it.”

Oh, how he loved being useful! It was one of the best fuls out there! Pinky skipped over to Brain, tripping over himself with one hoppy foot and smacking his jaw against the counter.

“Be grateful I’m in far too much pain to hurt you right now,” Brain said, his jaw jutting out in a little pout.

Pinky recovered from his fall and sat up, hiding a chortle behind his hands. Brain’s pouty and squinty face was just too funny.

“A neon sign is far more subtle than you,” Brain grumbled.

“I love looking at the pretty neon signs!” Pinky exclaimed. “Especially if they have arrows on them. All arrows lead to yummy cheese!”

Pinky carefully took hold of Brain’s crooked tail, one hand near the tip and his other hand next to a sharp break. Brain took a deep breath, his ears flattening ever so slightly. But he wasn’t letting go of his tail.

“Brain, aren’t you gonna put the band-aids on?” Pinky asked.

His bestest friend was acting funny, and not the good sort of funny either. Brain’s entire body was tense, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Y-yes. Of course I’m wrapping it,” Brain said. He snatched up the bandages, frowning at the messy bundle. “It would be far easier if this was rolled properly.”

Once Brain finally found a loose end, he tore off a small strip of band-aid from the roll and folded it over his tail. His hands flicked against Pinky’s while he wrapped his tail and Pinky couldn’t help smiling cause it felt like softer bops for his fingers.

“Hold still, Pinky,” Brain ordered. He pushed Pinky’s hand closer to the tip so he could check the area underneath.

But Pinky was holding still. He was being more stiller than a statue!

Then Pinky looked behind him. His tail was swishy-sweepy all over the place! It wasn’t obeying Brain at all!

“Bad tail!” Pinky scolded, leaning back a little to catch his very naughty tail. “Stay still or I’ll put you on a seventeen second timeout, mistah! Narf!”

Then he realized he’d leaned back too much.  

Snap.

It was only a quiet crick, barely louder than the hum of the lab, but now Brain’s tailtip felt stiff and crooked and bent, the nearby bandage pointing sharply to the ceiling.

Brain’s pink eyes were wide, the widest Pinky had ever seen them. But it wasn’t the wide eyes that came when something went unexpectedly right in his plans. His mouth opened in surprise, his big ears hung limply.

It was Brain’s pained cry that reminded Pinky to let go of the crooked tail. Slowly, Pinky slipped the tip into Brain’s palm and scooted back.

“I’m s-sorry…I didn’t…I really…” Pinky stammered.  

But Brain’s fearful expression made Pinky’s chest ache worse. Wasn’t the not-water supposed to help? Instead it made Pinky’s heart drop into his tummy.

“It appears I was mistaken,” Brain said, his voice so soft that Pinky had to strain both ears to pick up on it.

“Mistaken?” Pinky asked.

“Yes,” Brain nodded, but it wasn’t a happy yes. Pinky’s ears dropped. Brain’s yeses were supposed to be happy. “I never should’ve entrusted you with any important task.”

“You don’t trust me, Brain?” Pinky didn’t know what the n sound at the beginning of trust was, but he knew he trusted Brain with everything important like food pellets and wheels and scented markers. “It’s alright. I trust you.”

“That’s not how it works, you naïve dolt!” Brain shouted, leaping to his feet. He scowled and turned away from Pinky. “If I can’t expect you to follow the simplest instructions, then clearly I have no business trusting you.”

He couldn’t see Brain’s face anymore.

“I’m sorry for breaking your tail,” Pinky whispered.

Brain turned slightly, only one pink eye visible beneath his brow. Pinky didn’t know what Brain was thinking, but it definitely had to be something supersmart. Pinky tried to make his face look really truly sorry, but he didn’t know what sorry looked like on a face, so he took his best guess.

Then Brain walked into the cage without another word.

Cleaning the counter was a lonely job without Brain to scold him for making a mess of things. When everything was stored in the first-aid kit, Pinky yawned, ready to cuddle up next to Brain in their twin straw beds.

Only to find Brain had shifted his entire bed to another corner.

Pinky nuzzled his lonely straw bed. Brain settled in the darkest part of the cage, away from the sliver of starlight that spilled from their window. The broken, bandaged tail was hidden from view, where it couldn’t be hurt for the next few hours.

Straw rustled as Brain tossed and turned in his corner. And no matter how many horses Pinky counted, he couldn’t sleep either.      

o-o-o-o-o

The next morning, a techie plucked Pinky out of his wheel. Pinky waved goodbye to Brain, but he just mumbled a big word to himself and stayed out of reach from the techie’s buddy, who was making a funny face as she tried to grab Brain with a double gloved hand.

Early morning exercise was so fun! Pinky giggled as he dangled and swung around in the air, the techie’s fingers pinching his tail to keep him from falling. Of course, his wheel was great too. He couldn’t leave his poor wheel out of the fun!

The techie set Pinky in a covered maze full of twisty turns and turny twists. He pressed a button on a nearby camera, and left Pinky alone once he was through setting everything up.

“Poor man.” Pinky shook his head as the techie dashed into the breakroom for coffee and donuts. “Narf! He really shouldn’t skip breakfast. What kind of donuts do you think they’ve got in there, Brain? I could go for some powdered sugar donut holes myself.”

The camera swiveled, the only light blinkedy-blinking on its side. Every path was pitch-black, the vague outlines of high walls surrounding him.

“I don’t want any bla-bla big word sugar cause I’m a big ol’ grouch, Pinky.”

Oh, that was Brain alright.

“But wouldn’t you just be a lil’ grouch, Brain? Only your head is big and chubby. The rest of you is ittier-bittier than a mouse!”  

“Don’t use that word, you icicle.”

“Poit. Sorry, Brain. Which way to the yummy cheese?” Pinky rubbed his tummy, which was growling very Brain-like growls.

“We’ll hug the left wall. So simple even a something-something like you can do it.”

A left wall then! Brilliant!

“Whatever you say, Brain!” Pinky saluted and skipped over to what he guessed was the left wall, though it was a little hard to tell which was left since it was so dark. Then he threw his arms around the wall and hugged it.

Since walls couldn’t hug back, Pinky hugged twice as hard, only releasing his embrace when Brain cleared his throat. Pinky kept a hand along the wall as he skipped further into the dark maze.

“Just like nighttime, except without the stars. Where’d the stars go, Brain? I thought they only slept during the day.”

The left wall disappeared under his hand, and no matter how much Pinky tried to convince it to stay, it wouldn’t come with him. He grasped at empty, black space instead.

“I can’t find the left wall, Brain. Help me look?”

Brain didn’t reply.

“Okay, you can think about your plan thingies. Um…Mom always said if I get lost, I should find my way with echoes! Just like a hummingbird!” Pinky inhaled and picked a random direction, though it was awfully confusing when he couldn’t tell which direction he was facing. Maybe southeast? “ZORT!”

Zort! Zort! Zort!

“Five echoes deep!” Pinky exclaimed as he charged down the corridor. “Shouldn’t be too far to the cheese now, Brain!”

Except he couldn’t smell cheese or pellets or any kind of food. And he couldn’t see his own hand anymore.

Nor did he hear Brain’s footsteps.

“Brain? Where’d you go?” Pinky called.

He ran after his bestest friend, his chest aching deeply. But he pushed past the bad pain, which was sore and raw and not at all like the tingly feelings Brain’s smacks often gave him.

Pinky’s nose smashed into a wall or two as he tried to find Brain, his tail tripping him several times. But he kept running, cause if he didn’t, he’d get lost and never see Brain again.

“I don’t know where I’m going, Brain. Am I close?”

Pinky wrung his tail, the tip pressed against his chest. If he let go, the scary monsters would snatch it.

“Are you still here, Brain?”

Pinky’s lip trembled, a tear slipping down his cheek and splashing on his hand.

“I’m sorry I broke your tail! If you wa…wanna go…I don’t mind. P-p-poit,” Pinky whimpered. He reached out, only to touch a wall. He turned in another direction. Another wall. “Can…can you just show me the way out? Before you leave.”

Brain wouldn’t let the walls stop him. He was smart enough to figure out the way through. Where Pinky couldn’t follow cause he was just a dum-dum who couldn’t pass through walls.

It was dark and wet and dark all over again. He didn’t know where he was. He just wanted to see again.

Pinky curled himself against the wall. But the wall wasn’t a good hugger. Good huggers have arms, and walls don’t have arms.    

He didn’t deserve huggy arms though.

He broke Brain’s tail just like he broke Mom and Sis and Dad’s hearts.

What would his family think of him now? Sis would be heartbroken. He just wanted to be a good brother for her, though he didn’t know how he could be a good brother if he wasn’t there to teach her how to play Chase Me or eat food pellets.

Mom would cry cause she had such a dum-dum for a son. Dad would be mad cause he made Mom cry.

Brain could take over the world cause he wouldn’t be there to break his plans, his things, his tail.

And who could blame them?

He didn’t want anything to do with himself either.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Pinky’s ears flicked.

The scary monster was coming.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The taps kept coming, and Pinky curled up tighter.

“Sorry. You’ll have to come back some other time. I’m too stringy and blue right now,” Pinky whispered. “Blue tastes icky and sad.”

The taps stopped, and a thin beam of light flashed in the corner of Pinky’s vision.

“Pinky, what are you babbling about?”

The mad-worry-more mad voice.

Brain.

“Guess you found me after all, Brain.” Pinky tried to smile, but his lips wouldn’t turn up like they were supposed to. “Thought you’d made it to the end with your magic maze solving skills.”

“It’s called deduction, Pinky.”

“Oh.”

Neither spoke. For a while, there was nothing except the nervous tapping of fingers against metal.

“What are you doing, Brain? Aren’t you busy?”

Brain was a busybee. He was always grumping, always pondering, always scribbling.

“…don’t know where the wheel oil is. I can’t concentrate while the wheel is incessantly squeaking.”

“It’s by the wheel. I always keep them together.”

“Yes…of course,” Brain said, an odd flicker in his voice. “You’ll just have to show me then. Let’s go.”

Yet Pinky didn’t get up.

“You don’t need me,” Pinky forced out. It hurt to think it, to speak it, but it was true. “I’ll just break the wheel like I broke your tail. I broke your tail, Brain. I’ll break everything.”

A sob clawed its way out of his throat, and Pinky shushed it, his breath hitching.

It was dark, it was dingy, and Pinky just wanted out. He wanted to see so badly.

“Turn around and lift your head, Pinky.”

Pinky wiped a few tears and obeyed, pressing his back to the wall as he pushed himself up.    

The thin beam from the mini flashlight illuminated Brain’s face for the briefest moment before the flashlight was set down, the beam pointing to the wall. Then Brain turned around, picking up a long, thin plastic tube and dragging it over to Pinky.

“The employees are unprofessional and always leave their cheap party favors lying around,” Brain said. He looped the plastic tube around Pinky’s neck. “But I know more efficient uses for these chemicals.”

Both ends clicked together, a blue glow working its way through the tubing until Pinky had a neon blue ring around his neck.

“A glowstick?” Pinky asked. Not that he wasn’t appreciative. Things were much less scary now, thanks to Brain and the glowstick. He loved it. He really truly honestly did. But he’d broken Brain’s tail, and now Brain was giving him pretty things? “I love it, but-“

“I don’t need a reminder,” Brain snapped. He sighed heavily and sat down, drawing his knees up to his chest. “I’d like to pose a hypothesis for you.”

A glowstick and a hippo? It was so much, and Pinky wasn’t sure if he deserved either one. “Thanks, but I don’t think an entire hippopotamus would fit in here. And there’s definitely not enough light for a photoshoot.”

“A hypothesis is a question. Evidently I was wrong that you’d learn something from the childish poster of the scientific method next to our cage.”

If all he wanted to do was ask a question, he could’ve just asked! Brain was so confused sometimes.

The glowstick’s blue light shone right on Brain’s head, and Pinky pushed and pulled on the tubing, making the light dance in pretty patterns.

“Why did you apologize when you didn’t bend my tail on purpose?” Brain asked. With some difficulty, he brought his tail around and gingerly touched the broken tip.

“I hurt you, Brain,” Pinky sniffed, unable to stop the tear from rolling down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to, but I did, and I really am sorry. Honest.”

“As several failed plans have proven, you’re incapable of deception. I’ll try to remember that,” Brain said quietly. His hand reached out before stopping an inch away from the tear, then dropped down again. Brain looked away.

Pinky’s smile still wasn’t working. He had Brain and the pretty glowstick. Something was still missing.

“Brain? How many sorries should I say to make you feel better? Am I not saying it enough?” Pinky trembled and cried onto the glowstick.

No matter how many sorries it took, he’d say however many he needed to!

“Pinky, your lacrimal ducts are the ones leaking, not mine. Apologies aren’t necessary.” Brain ducked his head, avoiding Pinky’s gaze. “There’s…a method you haven’t tried yet. I suppose an excessively needy being such as yourself requires it. I’m usually above these displays of course, but I can make an allowance for this occasion and this won’t become a habit in the future so don’t get any ideas in your lack of a mind or-“

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Brain,” Pinky said. He’d never seen Brain so nervous-grumpy before.

“I’m asking if you require a hug, Pinky!” Brain scowled.

Pinky’s jaw dropped, and he was sure it was on the ground somewhere. He’d have to crawl around on his hands and knees to find it again.

“Egad, a hug?” Pinky breathed.

A fresh wave of tears sprung up, but these felt…different. They were relieving tears. Happy tears. Joyful tears.

“I can still rescind my offer,” Brain warned, his ears flattening.

Pinky laughed, and it was the most wonderful laugh he’d had all day. “I’d love a hug, Brain,” he said when Brain’s foot tapped in annoyance.

Brain took a deep breath, slowly leaning his head against Pinky’s chest. His cheek smushed against Pinky’s fur, and Pinky smiled cause Brain looked adorable in his grumbly-stormy way.

“I apologize too, Pinky,” Brain murmured as he pushed the glowstick out of the way and laid his arms across Pinky’s belly. “I can trust you to a certain extent. You just…caught me off-guard when you bent my tail.”

The achy feeling was gone, only leaving a warm pool of butterflies in its place. Pinky hummed in delight and wrapped his arms around Brain. His bestest friend deserved the bestest hugs!

“How so, Brain?” Pinky asked, relaxing his arms when Brain’s shoulders tensed ever so slightly.

“Your expression. You were regretful from the moment you heard the snap. I suppose it was just easier to be furious,” Brain said, his shoulders relaxing. “It’s always simpler.”

“More simple than me, Brain?”  

Brain rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s more simple than you, Pinky.”

They sat in comfy silence for a while longer, the darkness no longer bothering them. The glowstick scared all those hungry maze monsters away.

Then Pinky’s tummy tingled and tickled, a loud giggle escaping him. Brain’s fingers lightly dug into Pinky’s tummy, though Brain’s eyes were blissfully closed. He must’ve been tired from all the tossing and turning last night.

Pinky’s tummy growled softly and Brain jolted awake, blinking down at his fingers. He stood up quickly  and hid his hands behind his back.

“Ah, I was just pondering,” Brain said hastily. “What transpired in this maze must remain in this maze. Understand?”

Pinky nodded, wagging his finger at Glowstick to keep him quiet too. “Narf! Glowstick and I won’t tell a soul!”

Brain picked up his mini flashlight, then turned and faced Pinky so quickly that he nearly blinded himself with the light beam. “That’s it! Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Excitement laced his voice.

“I think so, Brain. But blackbirds in pies wouldn’t be a popular choice in a bake sale,” Pinky wrinkled his nose as Brain grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

“Fortunately for you, there’s blackberry pie in the fridge. I suppose that’s more suitable for your palate?”

Pinky’s tummy growled even louder, and his mouth watered at the thought of sweet blackberries. “Oh no, Brain. I want to eat the blackberries, not paint with them.”

Brain sighed a long sigh, vaguely reminding Pinky of a leaky tire. “After we’re satiated, I’ll work on a plan that will ensure our successful conquest of the world. I’ll need some time to come up with the exact number of glowsticks we’ll need per capita, so you’ll have to be inane elsewhere for a while.”

Pinky smiled and cheered, and Brain even bopped him with his little flashlight. His bestest friend knew how to make him happy, and happiness was the loveliest feeling of all.

o-o-o-o-o

The glowstick plan failed, and so did all the following plans. While Pinky didn’t mind healing and resting for the next tomorrow night, it didn’t take long before Brain’s tail suffered another bruise after a fancy lady’s high heel stepped on it.

Brain’s nose scrunched up as Pinky gently dribbled a few drops of sanitizer onto the bruise. It wasn’t called not-water like he’d originally thought. He never would’ve known if it hadn’t been for Brain.

Pinky hummed and measured out a bandage, then stopped humming cause he needed to concentrate on Brain’s tail, which needed extra care and gentleness since it didn’t heal as fast as the rest of him.

“You can be swishy later, tail,” Pinky scolded his own tail, which fell back to the cage floor. His tail was getting really good at obeying now.  

Pinky wrapped the bandage around the bent and bruised tail, concentrating super hard. Once the bandage was snug like a pug in a mug, Pinky pressed his fingers against his lips and tapped them against the bandage for extra encouragement.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said, the barest hint of a smile on his face.

Pinky smiled back. He loved making Brain happy too. 

AN: I like to think this story is set early in Pinky and Brain’s partnership. As a result, Snowball’s departure is still fairly fresh in Brain’s mind.

I am not sorry for butchering the English language. English? I know not of whom you speak. 

This story’s a bit more unpolished than I would like, mostly because Pinky’s a tough POV to write, especially if you’re trying to dig deep. I still like the end result though. 

[mamep]

The Forging of the Legend: A Prologue to The Legend of Zelda

I wrote an almost-8,000 word fanfic to try and give the original Legend of Zelda game some context and backstory. Also, it’s my first real fanfic. While I did add a handful of things that were not mentioned at all in the original two games and their accompanying material, this story diverges from the source material in a couple of small ways.

It can also be read on AO3, linked here! Otherwise, it’s below the cutoff.

(CW: graphic violence, mild gore, warfare)

”The Forging of the Legend”

by mamep

--

“One, two!” a man said, his voice matched with the strikes of his wooden sword. “Link, keep your eyes up!” He laughed alongside the forest’s summer breeze. Eventually, the man raised his weapon up high, and the boy froze at the sight. It was too heavy, too quick, and the boy was disarmed with the blow landing on his shoulder.

Link was only ten years old and could barely keep up with his father’s sweeping attacks, who stood over him with the end of his wooden sword put in the ground, offering his hand. Link took hold of it, and was pulled up faster than he expected, almost losing his breath just as quickly as when he was blown back.

“That was too fast,” Link said, still grimacing and holding his left shoulder. “Can we take a break?”

“Of course,” said his father, “but not for too long. Here, have a swig of this.” Reaching behind his back, he gave his son a waterskin, unlatching the top. Link noticed it wasn’t the waterskin at front of his belt that he usually drank from. “Come on now, we haven’t got all day.”

Link gingerly took a sip from it, reeling from the aftertaste.

“Haha! It’ll do that to you,” his father said. “Alright, show it to me.”

The boy pulled back the sleeve of his olive roughspun tunic, revealing the fresh bruise on his shoulder, just starting to redden.

“It tingles,” Link said. “But it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

The boy’s father smirked. “It’s special water, from a spring deep in the woods. They say it’s got fairy dust mixed in, and it’s handy for pain and wounds.”

“It tastes funny,” Link mumbled, paying little attention, but he drank again.

“Alright, alright! Not too much!” the boy’s father said, taking the waterskin back. “I went through a lot of trouble getting to that spring. Come on, let’s continue.”

“Father, why do we have to do this?” Link groaned. The water healed his shoulder, but the young boy was still tired, and there was yet target practice after this.

Link’s father lost his smile in the wind, and he knelt down to match his son’s height. “Because I fear for you, my boy. You must be able to protect yourself, to not fall in the face of danger. Courage when it matters most.”

Link could only stare back into his father’s eyes, wondering at what he meant.

__

High in a tower of the decrepit Hyrule Castle stood Princess Zelda, looking over her realm from a small balcony. The sun shone brightly, revealing all from the crags of the Death Mountain Range to the glimmering coasts of the Great Hyrulean Sea and beyond. However, a frown made itself apparent on the princess, and she sighed deeply.

“My princess, what bothers you?” said an old woman, whose voice carried some whimsy. She tended to the hearth in the princess’s chamber, one she had taken up use of recently over the comfort of her former bedroom. The choice baffled the nursemaid, as the coming autumn would keep this place cold, even with the nearby fire. The princess had found her nursemaid’s jovial tone could easily lower her guard, however reluctant she was to yield.

Zelda let loose her tense shoulders. “This sight saddens me, Impa,” she said. “This realm they call a lesser Hyrule was once a grand country, much larger than... this.”

Impa approached the princess. “I know, child.”

“My people have dwindled, either by the division of this country, or that there is little wealth remaining in these lands. The few that have lingered can barely make a living in this petty kingdom.”

The princess looked down below at castle bailey, watching the handful of knights and workers going about their daily duties. She could barely afford to pay them, and some were even volunteers, whose help Zelda graciously accepted despite her shame.

“Your Highness, you shouldn’t speak so little of your country,” Impa said warmly. “Petty kingdom or not, the name of Hyrule remains proud, for it still keeps the greatest treasures of all. No amount of wealth can surpass them.”

“Not ‘them,’ but ‘it’... Were it that I could wield the full ensemble of the Triforce... With but a single wish from my heart’s depths, I could rule Hyrule properly and lead my people to prosperity, like the monarchs of old.”

Impa looked at her princess more closely, seeking to understand.

“I only want to do right by my people, Impa. That means making the right decision, even when it is difficult.” Zelda turned to her nursemaid, with unease weighing heavily in her brow. Impa noticed a glint of light from the back of Zelda’s right hand, which the young princess quickly hid with the other.

“Princess, what have you seen?” Impa asked.

Zelda breathed deeply, looking away for a moment. “An evil will strike this country soon, Impa, I am sure of it. Surely you have heard the rumors? The monsters stalking the wilds are amassing in greater numbers, even stealing weapons and tools from the outer villages in the night. Never before have they acted like this. There are even whispers of certain people consorting with them.”

“It’s certainly odd...” Impa said, maintaining a willful skepticism. “Perhaps Your Highness can arrange for more guards patrolling the roads? To protect the people from monsters, to dissuade dealing with them. But it may require some further thrift here...”

“No mere soldier can protect this land from what is to come, from what I have foreseen. You know of what I mean, Impa.”

“Your Highness, I am not so sure...” Impa said, reluctant to believe she would witness the fabled calamity return in her lifetime.

Zelda again looked back over the remains of her kingdom, lamenting its decline. “The fate of Hyrule will be decided in the very near future, Impa, at a point in time I cannot yet discern past. All else before then, however...” Zelda breathed deeply, trying to stand up straighter, more strongly. “The decision is still difficult.”

Impa’s voice became grave. “What must be done, my princess?”

“Please prepare for an escape from the castle, Impa,” Zelda said. “Not even this place will be safe from the storm.”

__

Link had begun to get the hang of his father’s training. His eyes could keep up with the wooden sword’s dance now, and his footwork had gotten better, too. This time, they practiced outside their home atop a small hill in the outskirts of their woodland village, with the sun setting behind the western mountains. Link’s mother was preparing thin wooden panels as targets, resisting the itch to practice on them herself before her son would complete his sword training for the day.

“Three, four!” his father said, and Link deftly parried his strikes aside, his green cap bouncing slightly with his movements.

“Five!” he shouted, to Link’s surprise, but the young boy quickly jumped back, evading the blow. Having put too much force behind his swing only to hit air, Link’s father stumbled forward, trying to regain balance. With a smirk, Link then leaped forward, lunging with his wooden sword, and the tip landed squarely on his father’s chest.

“Alright, alright, I yield,” he said, and Link withdrew, cheering a little.

“Link!” his mother called out. “Rest for a moment, and then get your slingshot!” Yet the boy was filled with energy despite the autumn chill, and grabbed the small tool lying aside the log Link’s father sat on.

“Let’s start now, Mother!” he said, pulling on the sling loaded with an acorn.

She sighed in wonder as she attached the target to the clothesline. “Ready?” she said, and then turned the crank on the contraption, attaching more targets as she went. From one end, the wood panels swayed in the air as they were pulled along. Link quickly landed the acorns on three out of four targets, though not very accurately, before they reached the other end of the clothesline.

“What about the fourth, Link?” his father said, taking a drink from his waterskin.

“It’ll do, dear!” his mother replied, watching Link as he looked for acorns that remained intact. “Don’t worry, Link. You’ve gotten good at this very quickly. You’ll be perfect in no time.”

“Can I try again?” Link asked, restless.

His mother laughed. “Of course, of course.”

But as she turned the crank the other way to bring the targets back, a scream was heard from the far side of the village. The three of them turned in its direction immediately, and Link’s father jumped from his seat to get a closer look.

There was a clang of metal, and another scream. Embers caught on another villager’s thatch roof, quickly lighting it ablaze. The piggish roars of moblins were enough to turn Link’s knees to jelly.

“Something’s wrong,” Link’s father said, urgently walking back to the door of their home. “Link! Quickly, now!” he said, and the boy obeyed, following him inside. Moving aside their supper table and the fur pelt beneath it, he revealed a trapdoor blended in with the planks of the floor, and he easily stuffed Link in the tiny space beneath their home.

“But Father!”

“No buts. Stay here and don’t make a sound until you hear me or your mother call for you. Do you understand?”

“It’s for your own safety, Link,” his mother said. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”

Link hesitantly nodded.

His mother took down a short bow from the wall, with simple wooden arrows in a large quiver, while his father pulled a thick club out from behind their bed, larger than the wooden swords they used for training. They wasted no time in shutting the trapdoor and putting the pelt and table back above it before heading out toward the rest of the village.

Link sat in the darkness of the hidden space, trying not to make a sound against the old wood, loose soil, and pebbles he sat against. Soon, the door to their home opened again.

“Mother? Father?” Link whispered, fear forcing still his throat.

He heard a dog-like snarl, and the moblin stomped on the planks of the floor, sniffing around for life. It took all Link had to not yelp in fright as he hugged his knees.

“No one here!” the moblin growled, and Link heard the heavy stamps of its feet leaving the house, and the door slammed shut. Link sighed in relief, but his face shot up when he heard crackling sounds above him. Through the little cracks between the floorboards, he could see an orange light, and Link pounded at the trapdoor above, screaming for his parents. But they weren’t there, and the door would barely budge against the weight of the table.

For a moment, Link despaired at his weakness, wailing in pain from throwing his forearms against the dirt wall. None of the training he endured had prepared him for this, nor made him stronger than his ten-year-old body. He cried at his powerlessness, at not knowing what to do.

In a moment between his deep breaths, he remembered his father’s words, muffling the sound of everything else, just for an instant.

Courage when it matters most.

Link found strength in his legs, and again he pushed up against the trapdoor, managing to open it just a little. A flicker of fell light and smoke threatened his focus. With the full weight of the table above him, Link could barely move it any further than a foot, but then he heard a thud behind him. Something on the table fell off, and then another, and Link pushed harder than before, every fiber of his muscles screaming. With a final push and his foot now against the edge of the floor above, he threw the trapdoor back and leapt out from the darkness.

With the support beams of his house’s roof collapsing, Link slammed his weight against the burning door, dashing right through, sustaining a few burns on his hand and legs, while the loose threads of his shirt and tunic singed away. By now, much of the rest of the village was on fire, homes and trees alike, covering the red sky in a thick smoke. Sparing no time to think or catch his breath, Link grabbed his slingshot and his wooden sword, and ran toward the village.

“Mother! Father! Where are you?” he called out as he neared the center of the village, its houses all ablaze, its people running, fighting, and dying.

A young girl screamed as she scampered past Link, holding her stuffed doll tightly in her arms, both of them bearing little burns. Removing its weapon from the body of a village defender, a moblin gave chase, prepared to throw its spear at her.

“No!” Link yelled, and swung his wooden sword hard and low, catching the fiend on its ankle. It tripped, landing face-first into the dirt. The girl kept running, unaware she was safe for the moment, while the moblin growled as it got up and picked up its spear, now focused on Link.

The young swordsman jumped back, grasping his wooden sword in both hands. He raised it up for a high strike, and he felt it pulsate in his arms. The moblin charged at him, its spear aimed straight for the boy. Link only planted his feet and grit his teeth, and at the last second he jumped to the right and swung his sword down and forward to meet the fiend, landing the tip right on its unarmored head. The wooden sword erupted with a burst of rainbow light, and the moblin was thrown back, limp and lifeless.

Some distance away, another moblin roared “Blood for the king!”

“Blood for the king!” others yelled in unison.

Link was thoroughly winded from the blast, and as he confusedly regained his breath, he noticed his wooden sword was cracked and split in parts.

“There are more on the other side of the building!” he heard ahead. It was his mother’s voice.

“Mother!” he yelled, but got no response. Link quickly picked up the shield from the fallen defender, strapping it to his right arm as he ran forward.

Ahead, Link’s parents were engaged with a duo of moblins; his father quickly evaded the strikes of their spears, while his mother drew another arrow, aiming for their heads.

“Keep them still!” she said, narrowly evading the thrown spear of a moblin.

“I’m trying!” Link’s father yelled, bashing the now-unarmed moblin in the head. In close quarters, he attacked the other, and the moblin had no choice but to defend.

“Father! Mother!” Link called out.

“Link?” his father said, and the moment of distraction was enough for the moblin to overpower the man, its hooved foot kicking him back, undoubtedly breaking his ribs.

“No!” his wife screamed. On the ground, Link’s father then brandished a knife from his belt and plunged it deep into the upper leg of the moblin, ripping through flesh as he wrenched it back out. Link’s mother loosed an arrow through the moblin’s eye, and it fell back, frozen in its stunned pose. With great difficulty, Link’s father got up, barely able to breathe and unable to hold the large club he had wielded.

“Link, I told you to stay home...”

“I want to help!” he yelled loudly in defiance.

“Link,” his mother said, running to him, “it’s not safe here.”

“It wasn’t safe at home! They burned it down!”

As Link’s father tried to approach them, holding his chest in pain, they heard roars on the other side of the buildings, through the crackling flame.

“More, more!”

“Blood for the king!”

Gasping, Link’s mother’s eyes darted around for assailants.

“Look at you,” Link’s father said, still some distance away, pushing against his forward leg for support. “My boy, my brave fighter—”

A spear slashed through his back, and a dog-faced moblin roared in victory, now pointing its weapon at the young boy straight ahead. 

“No!” Link’s mother screamed, pulling him along by the arm, and running off as quickly as her legs could take her, as much as Link tried standing his ground.

“Blood for the king!” yelled the moblin as its spear sped through the air, and Link’s mother stumbled, falling with him tight in her arms.

Wresting himself out of her grasp, Link then threw the wooden sword with all of his might at the head of the charging moblin, its splintered and broken shaft knocking the creature out cold.

“Mother, come on,” he said, turning back to her, but his eyes were caught on the spear that had torn through her back.

“Link... You must run...” she forced out with the last of her breath, and the life faded away from her eyes, like wind through flowers.

Link, speechless with tears burning his eyes, screamed at the open sky. But the moblins were not yet finished. A handful of them remained, all gathering near the body of Link’s father, pointing their spears at him. One spiraled through the air right past him, landing and getting stuck in the ground. Something spurred Link’s legs to run, dashing away from the rain of the moblins’ spears and their stomping charge, running back home without a second thought.

His home was now entirely aflame, and part of the structure had collapsed. Frozen for a moment with wide eyes and the roars of moblins behind him, he grabbed the second wooden sword, once his father’s, and kept running. Over the hill and through the thick forest, Link ignored the burning in his legs and lungs, and kept running.

__

There was a banging at the castle’s gates, and the young Princess Zelda watched from above as scores of moblins kept throwing themselves into it with battering rams. An accident involving their crude bombs had dented the moblins’ numbers, but with the sheer amount of their recently arrived reinforcements, Hyrule Castle’s garrison had little hope beyond maintaining its defense of the wall. Hidden in the upper parapets, the wall’s few archers could properly hold their positions and pick their enemies off one by one, and the knights and fighters skillfully ambushed the ladder-climbing moblins, knocking them back and letting gravity handle destroying their poorly made tools. But the garrison’s supply of arrows would eventually run out, and the swordsmen just couldn’t keep up with all of the moblins coming for them.

“Blood for the king!” the beasts chanted. Together they would all stamp on the hopes of Hyrule’s last guardians.

“Set up the barricades!” the knight captain yelled, and others brought out what few they had to defend entrances to the keep both above the ramparts and down in the bailey. There was an explosion behind them on the other side of the keep, however, along with the screams of the handful of soldiers defending that position.

“No!” the knight captain yelled, his hand grasping his sword too tightly. “You all must hold this place at all cost, I must go—”

“You must stay where you are, Captain,” he heard in the far back of his mind. “That dark fiend is beyond you and all your soldiers. I will deal with it in time.”

He looked up to the keep’s tower, and though he could not see his princess, he knew she watched.

“I will stay here,” the knight captain said, raising his sword to his face, his eyes looking past its edges. “On my honor as a knight of Hyrule, I will smite the enemy of this land and protect my charge with my very life.”

With renewed strength, the captain led a forward push against the invading moblins, and together with his remaining soldiers, he cut through them with great speed and accuracy. His lovingly polished steel armor shone with a red gleam, and the weaker assailants were thrown back, awestruck when their spears would do little to harm him. While others went to deal with the ladder moblins at the ramparts, the captain faced those just now breaking through the front gate of the outer wall. He knew that the princess and the Triforce of Wisdom she wielded would see things right, and if he were to die on this battlefield, it would not be in vain so long as she lived.

Zelda above watched as her knights fought in spite of their dwindling numbers. “The stage is almost set. Impa, have you finished the preparations?”

“Your Highness,” Impa said, “I have readied our flight from the castle.” Her heart raced a bit too much for her old age. “But what was that sound?”

“It was an explosion, Impa. Their king has gained entry to our deepest vaults.”

“Princess... No! That is where...” Impa stopped herself upon noticing Zelda’s unchanging expression, as if it was something she expected to happen.

“Yes, Impa. Whether it is fate-designed, or pure happenstance that allowed this, I cannot say that it was a surprise. Or perhaps it was my weakness in not bearing the full Triforce as my ancestors did that allowed for this to come to pass.”

Impa would have scolded her were it not for the situation surrounding them.

“It matters not. He will be here soon. I have one more task to fulfill, but before that, you must escape the castle before he arrives.”

Impa’s eyes widened. “My princess! No, I cannot leave without you!”

“Impa, you must. The escape was never meant for me.”

“I will not leave you here to be left to the Demon King’s whims! The fate of Hyrule rests on your shoulders, Your Highness. So long as you live, Hyrule will survive, it can be wrought anew! Princess Zelda, you are Hyrule!”

“Nay, Impa. The fate of Hyrule is a shared burden. In this light, I require of you a mission, my faithful nursemaid.”

Unease forced Impa’s back to tighten, but she bowed all she could nonetheless. “What shall I do, Your Highness?”

“Seek someone of great skill and bravery, Impa. One whose shoulders can bear this weight. One with the will to save Hyrule.”

Impa breathed deeply, contemplating her mission. “I understand, my princess.”

“Now go, my dear Impa. We are running out of time.”

Impa’s feet were reluctant to move, but she bit her tongue and steeled her heart, and soon made for the lower hidden corridors of the castle. The castle’s few servants had gathered near the concealed exit, waiting for Zelda and Impa to flee together from the evil king’s wrath, but they would not see their princess this one last time.

Zelda returned to the balcony to observe the battle. Of the castle’s garrison, only the knight captain still remained. Though his breaths and sword were heavy, he stood against the advancing enemy, ignoring all notions of tire and pain. The horde of moblins assembled around him, readying their spears to skewer the armored man to the door. He gathered his breath once again, raised his shield, and dug his feet into the ground.

“As I still draw breath, you will not enter this castle.”

“Choke him!”

“Trample on his throat!”

One moblin thrust its spear at the captain, but he easily deflected it with his shield and ran his sword through the moblin’s neck in one swift motion.

Then he heard thundering footsteps, coming from the other side of the wall. Even the moblins trembled at first, but soon a laughter erupted amongst them. There was a pounding on the other side of the still-shut front gate, undoubtedly the moblins trying once again to break through with a battering ram. But they were hushed with a single swipe, which the captain felt rend the air.

In an instant, the stout gate of Hyrule Castle was smashed to a thousand pieces, the fist of the demon standing at its threshold burning with a fell flame. It looked to be a pig-faced moblin, with its flat snout, fangs too big to keep in its mouth, and bearing dried skulls and spoils of war, but the similarities stopped there. Its hide was shaded in a skin-crawling blue, it had thick horns sprouting from its head though they were now broken, and even hunched it was much larger than its footsoldiers. Stowing its broad trident over its back, it cracked its knuckles, and behind the deeply dark flame wreathed around its hand, the knight captain could make out a faint light, its shape all too familiar to any servant of the Royal Family of Hyrule.

“Princess!” the knight captain cried out.

“Worry not, Captain,” he heard in his mind. “I remain unharmed.”

“But the ancient relic! The treasure of your family! No, why are you still here?” he said back to her.

“I could not find the will to wield it myself, for fear of what I would become with its power. You may rue me if you want, Captain.”

The captain’s shoulders dropped, watching the demon ahead stare him down. “No, my princess, I will not,” he said, “for I was too foolhardy to heed your warnings.”

In his weariness and the heat of the battlefield, he remembered the words the princess gave him before the siege, as he and his soldiers kept to their vigil.

“I ask that you flee as well, Captain, for I fear the might of this invading army and the one who leads it,” Princess Zelda had said. “Please, Captain, your defense here will be sure death.”

“Your Highness, my soldiers and I will defend the keep to make sure you and the others can escape to seek someplace safe.”

“And if I call upon your oaths to serve me, your ruling princess, without question nor defiance?”

“Then I would beg your forgiveness, for I am set on this path. I ask that you allow me this honor of protecting you. Once I know you have successfully escaped with your treasures, my princess, I will retreat with whomever I can. My soldiers are aware of this plan, and will act on it should you approve.” Though the captain’s eyes were elsewhere.

Zelda lamented this thread of fate, for she knew what the captain did not. “Captain, with great reluctance do I give you my approval, for I know that I cannot defeat fate... But I ask that you use this for your protection.” She presented to him a little ring made of a silver-red band bearing a dull garnet stone; a trinket to most people’s eyes. But he knew this was a preserved magic treasure of Hyrule Castle, to be kept for the assistance of the hero of legend.

The captain smiled, accepting it. “I only do this to protect you, Your Highness. I know that you will be a good queen one day.”

The hazy memory faded away, and Zelda shed a tear remembering it herself. Now, the captain stood alone against the dark fiend, this purported ‘Demon King,’ and its army of beasts.

“So this is how it ends,” the captain said, tightly gripping his sword and shield.

“I will stay with you to the end, my dear captain,” he heard, and it was warm.

The dark fiend’s hand flared again with its wicked flame, and the golden light that appeared under it radiated enough for him to see clearly. The fiend grabbed the knight, its hulking hand wrenching through his steel breastplate, right past the protective red light. Soon it collapsed, and the knight’s ribcage shattered entirely. Still holding him, the snarling fiend placed its forefinger over the knight’s head, and clenched its fist one last time.

With unreal strength, the fiend broke right through the gate to the castle’s keep, leading the moblin army with heavy footsteps that shook the building’s foundations. Though the princess had foreseen this outcome, with each time she felt the shock in her knees and spine, she couldn’t help but be frightened.

But the princess knew she had to perform her duty, even at her own expense. Her mind called out to Impa’s, and gave the nursemaid her final orders.

Zelda fortified her heart, raising her right hand forward, and the light Impa once saw on the back of the princess’s hand shone again. The intense light dimmed for a moment to reveal a marking – three perfect triangles joined in unison at their points to make one greater triangle. The triangle of the bottom-left gleamed more strongly than the other two, before the full marking dimmed completely. Zelda turned her hand, raising the palm high, and produced a single triangle, one that appeared immaculately carved from shimmering, unblemished gold.

Grasping the triangle in her hand, she clenched tight her fingers around it, yelping in pain. With great difficulty and searing pain in her very core, Zelda broke the golden triangle, light pouring from its cracks. It shattered into eight pieces, and Zelda struggled to walk back out to the balcony. The moblin army still stationed outside could not see her, nor would their shoddy bows and arrows reach her. Mustering what she could of her magic, the princess let loose the triangle fragments into the sky, each wreathed with a blinding blue light as they flew like missiles to different spots around her kingdom.

Traveling through a hidden clearing in the woods, Impa and the other servants watched as they soared through the dusk sky, and the elderly nursemaid’s heart sank as she came to understand the princess’s plan. Soon, a wandering detachment of moblins spotted them under the starlight. Against the sways of her heart, Impa split off to fulfill her duty. Despite that, most of the moblins roared and chased the servants, and a few followed Impa. With heavy breaths and weary bones, she ran for the hills.

At the tallest tower of Hyrule Castle, the dark fiend effortlessly broke through the door of Zelda’s chamber, and with a raised hand, a glowing barrier formed over the smashed doorway. The moblins looked on, touching the barrier in wonder, as the Demon King and Princess Zelda stood opposite each other.

“Say my name,” said the king.

“Ganon,” replied Princess Zelda.

“You know who I am. Then you know why I am here.”

“Yes, I know. You’re here to claim the Triforce.”

“What times Hyrule has fallen into, that the Triforce is unwhole.”

Zelda betrayed a hint of annoyance, and Ganon’s fanged mouth smirked.

“How do you feel, Princess, having watched me utterly decimate your forces? Knowing you never had a chance to stand against my army? My own power?”

“Your power is scarcely your own, Ganon. You have stolen a piece of the Triforce from me. Along with that arrow and many more things, I see.”

“What, this tiny needle?” He removed the arrow from his satchel, holding it by the shaft, carefully avoiding the silver arrowhead. “I know not what it is. It was kept in your vault, so it must have some value. Perhaps I’ll pick my teeth with it.”

“Despite bearing golden might, the blight they called Ganon was also known for his cunning and trickery.” She knew Ganon could tell the silver arrow was crafted as a weapon against him, blessed with moonlight in the hopes it would repel evil. He placed it back into the satchel, along with the little gold and rupees pilfered from the vault, and the red ring taken from the body of the knight captain. “Though perhaps little of your scheming mind remains, having revived as many times as you have. Maybe once this happens again, you will end up a slimy thing, struggling to even stand.”

Ganon growled. “Do not think I will leave these foul tools here for your hero to claim. Oh yes, Princess, I know. Each and every time I have risen, in turn you raised the hero against me. I expect to meet him soon. It is only a matter of time. May I kill him in the cradle.”

Zelda showed an inkling of sorrow. “How could I have raised a hero, with my kingdom as weak as it is now? Perhaps this will be the time you win and break our cycle, Ganon.”

He roared in laughter. “Tell me, Princess, why did you not wield the Triforce of Power yourself? You knew I was coming for you, for it. You could have taken it in your hand to rule over this lesser Hyrule and beyond. You could have used it to destroy me on the battlefield, and none of your soldiers would be dead. Your knight would still live.”

“Do you think I would bandy such words with a foul creature like you?”

“Entertain me, Princess. You have done so up until now. Why stop?”

Every minute she could scrounge for Impa’s flight was precious, but in truth Zelda wanted not to speak of this, least of all with Ganon.

“I would not wield the Triforce of Power in fear of what it would make me. I arm myself with wisdom, so that I can discern what is right and what is wrong... and what will come to pass. With the Triforces of Wisdom and Power, I would see my country restored to its classical splendor, but I may also become a wrathful queen... And when I see your wretched and vile existence, Ganon, I fear it all the more.”

“You fear power would outweigh your ruler’s wisdom... You are scared witless to act as any ruler must. And without the third to complete it, you cannot make your wish upon the Triforce,” Ganon said, his toothy grin curving hideously. “Then give it to me, my Zelda.” He outstretched his massive clawed hand.

“You? The one called ‘Demon King’? I would sooner fling myself from this tower than give it to you, foul beast.”

“Then do so. I would claim the Triforce of Wisdom from your lifeless corpse. Princess, me having left you alive the moment I entered this room was mere courtesy, from ruler to ruler. As much of a dung heap this country has now become, I have come to respect you in some little way for defying me so many times. Give to me your share of the Triforce, and I will give you your life, to live the rest of your pitiful days in Hyrule’s carcass.”

With her head down and eyes closed, Zelda began to smile, seemingly resigned to her fate.

“You know this is the only way you get to live. Your Wisdom will show you.”

Zelda raised her head and met Ganon’s stare, and her smile became wry.

He growled. “Princess... Where is the Triforce of Wisdom?”

“It is gone. I no longer bear its light.”

“WHERE IS THE TRIFORCE?!”

“Not even I know, Ganon.”

“YOU LIE!”

“I have broken my piece into many pieces and scattered them around my country. It may take you a long time to find them, even if you knew where to start. But wisdom you do not have.”

He roared again, and the floor beneath him cracked. “Foul, despicable girl! I will kill you! I swear it! I will kill you worse than your puny knight!” Ganon’s hand glowed with the mark of the Triforce, its upper triangle of the three shining most brightly.

Zelda’s knees almost buckled.

“Stay your hand, demon. You will not kill me.”

“Do you mean to test me?!”

“I am the only one who can divine where the pieces of the Triforce of Wisdom have become hidden. Kill me, and you lose your fastest way to acquiring it.”

“I can wait,” he snarled. “I have become very patient.”

“Do you expect to gather them all before the hero comes for you?”

“You admit it, then? You have raised a hero to defy me?”

“Nay, I admit that I have not. But I doubt you want to wait long enough to see one rise on their own, Ganon.”

“Vile, wretched princess. Your own existence disgusts me. Long have the people of Hyrule enjoyed the bounty of their land. You can imagine how happy I was to see how you all now suffer in this waste of a land, like mine. Fine then, Princess. You can play your little game of rebellion against me. Divine for me these cursed places where you have hidden the Triforce of Wisdom. When it rests complete and whole in my hand, I will claim your skull as the price for your childish defiance.”

Ganon clenched his glowing fist and a crystal prism formed around Zelda, trapping her in the fiend’s clutches. With the princess and her family’s treasures in tow, Ganon and his army left Hyrule Castle and marched for his base at Death Mountain. 

__

Impa had been running almost nonstop for hours, and by the time the sun began to rise, she was all but exhausted. She found herself in a clearing outside the forest, near a low plateau by the kingdom’s southern borders. The nursemaid’s old body hurt beyond belief and capacity, but with the moblins having not given up on the chase, she could not spare much time for rest.

  As she sat against a tree to catch her breath, only a few minutes passed before she heard rustling from within the trees. Impa groaned in pain and worry, with beads of sweat falling from her brow as the stomps and growls of moblins approached.

“Oh, Princess, I don’t know if I can do the mission you gave me... Forgive me for my weakness, sweet child...”

The very moment one of the moblins stepped out from the thicket into the clearing, something zoomed through the air, hitting one in the eye. In throes of pain, the moblin unwittingly slashed at the other three. More projectiles zoomed through the air as a boy holding a slingshot jumped out from a tree, continually readying new shots.

“There! Kill the runt!”

Two moblins flung their spears at the boy, who dodged one and deflected the other with his small shield. Loosing another acorn at the eyes of a moblin, the boy’s already-worn slingshot broke, and he threw it away before drawing his wooden sword, also battered and cracked. Swift as the wind, he dove into the thrashing pile of moblins, throwing them all back with a spin of his sword. Impa gasped in awe as she watched the boy fight. One would think a child would scream, hold their head, and run when faced with a moblin, a devilish and ever meat-hungry forest beast often mentioned in stories meant to make the children behave. Yet this boy fought unwaveringly with four moblins armed and trained for feral warfare. Impa thought the boy moved like a green flash, watching him whittle each of them down with the strikes of his sword.

The last of the four moblins, a larger blue-skinned kind, got in a lucky strike with its spear, cutting past the boy’s sleeve and skin. Still, he held his shield and his sword, almost snapped in half at this point, to face the fiend. It roared, putting all its force behind a quick thrust. But the boy deflected it to the side and jumped forward before using his shield to bash in the side of the moblin’s knee, and it fell. The boy then tightly grasped the hilt of what remained of his wooden sword, and smashed it into the moblin’s head. Any life that remained in the moblin was now gone, and the wooden sword was now broken, little of it remaining past the guard. After a moment of contemplation, the boy cast it aside.

“Young boy,” Impa called out weakly, coughing.

He turned, staring at the small old lady sitting against the tree.

“Come here... Quickly, please.” Impa slowly tried to stand, and when she almost fell, the boy ran to support her, and he gave her his waterskin to drink from. There wasn’t much, and Impa had not expected she would drink it all. Still, it rejuvenated her, and pain slowly left her body, though she was still weary. “What a good lad you are...”

 The boy kept silent, focusing on carrying the small woman forward where she wanted to go. He squeezed out the last drops of the fairy water over the wound on his arm, and it stung and steamed as it closed shut.

“I am Impa, servant of Princess Zelda. She needs your help.”

The boy inhaled sharply when he heard the name. Though his home was a few miles from the Kingdom of Hyrule’s official borders, he had seen the few soldiers the castle had when they were on their regular patrols around the region, and he knew of the attack on Hyrule Castle. Though he had never seen the princess, his parents had sometimes talked about the state of the kingdom and the overall Hyrule region.

My parents...

Though Impa remained quiet waiting for a response, some semblance of acknowledgement, the boy’s thoughts trailed off in remembering his mother and father. Yes, he had to escape his house to live, but if he hadn’t called out to them, distracted them in battle, revealed their position to the moblins, perhaps they...

“Young boy? Surely you aren’t deaf.”

His mouth frowning tightly, the boy turned to face Impa and shook his head.

“Dear me,” she sighed in some mixture of worry and relief. “I must ask your forgiveness, boy, but Princess Zelda and this land of Hyrule need your help. I fear I must believe you are its best hope. Please, will you at least tell me your name?”

The boy felt as if his throat was bound in fetters. He managed to utter something with some difficulty, as if he was remembering himself.

“Link.”

“Oh my, a strong name. I will not have to call you the boy who hides in trees,” Impa said, laughing to herself.

Link carried her to the edge of the plateau, and she sat again, breathing deeply. Together they faced the remains of the kingdom, from the Death Mountain Range in the northwest and the Great Hyrulean Sea in the far east. Though the plateau wasn’t very high, they could see much of it clearly. The Lost Woods, Lake Hylia, Spectacle Rock upon Death Mountain itself... Some thought these grandiose names were all Hyrule had to remember its former glory.

“The princess is... in Ganon’s clutches, the one called ‘Demon King,’” Impa said, but her words were unsure and very pained. “To keep it out of his possession, she has broken a treasure most vital to Hyrule’s peace, its heart. It is the Triforce of Wisdom, a triangle of gold, now split apart in eight pieces.”

Link nodded, remembering the lights he saw the night before.

“I am not entirely sure of pieces’ locations, but there are many strongholds throughout the kingdom. They are older than even me, but they were well built... some even hidden by magic, to be used in the defense of this country. I am sure the princess has hidden the pieces of the Triforce within their depths. But the strongholds themselves have been in disuse for ages... There is talk of monsters and other evils having taken up residence.”

Impa was surprised, yet joyed nonetheless to see Link’s glare remain steady.

“You must recover the Triforce of Wisdom, both to keep it out of Ganon’s hands, and to save Zelda from him. For Ganon has taken its counterpart, the Triforce of Power. Without Zelda’s treasure, you cannot hope to battle with the Demon King. Link... I know not if I can trust you with the princess’s mission, but please, you must help.”

With his brow heavy, Link only nodded.

A smile formed on Impa’s face, but strength began to leave the old woman’s eyes.

“I leave it to you... Please, save Zelda... Save Hyrule...”

Impa lightly fell to the side, and Link gasped, but when he heard her snore, he knew it was alright. Just below them at the foot of the plateau, Link saw a person, an old man, who had seemingly been watching them. The old man turned back, hobbling into a cave of which the entrance Link could barely see. Doing what he could to lift Impa over his back, he carried the old woman down a pathway leading below, and took her into the cave.

With the cave illuminated by fires in two pots, the old man sat against the rear wall, with some scavenged provisions and a walking stick at his side. He looked upon Link warily as the boy laid Impa down against the cave wall.

“I saw enough of what happened, young boy,” the old man said. “You’re quite skilled, I have to admit. I can watch over the lady until she wakes. But I don’t have much in the way of provision here myself, and I don’t know if I’ll last so long anyway.” Link noticed some spots of red in the cave floor, and a bloodied rag wrapped around his leg.

Link nodded and turned to leave.

“Wait!” the old man yelled. “It’s dangerous out there. There are those pigs lurking about, but more creatures have come out from the trees, down from the mountains. You’re one boy, all alone. I don’t know what you’re going to do, but there’s a weapon, right over there, if you need it...”

Link turned to see a moblin’s spear off to the side, its head carved from animal bone. Link’s lip curled in unhidden disgust, and he shook his head.

“I see... Then, the only other thing I have left is this. Take it.”

The old man pulled from behind him a sheathed sword, holding it out as Link approached and took the weapon from his hands. Keeping an eye on the old man, he unsheathed the sword carefully; it was an old thing, rusted in parts, but still serviceable. Link swung it lightly a few times to get a feel for its weight before putting it back in its scabbard and strapping it to his tunic’s belt. 

The old man smiled. “I’m sorry, that’s all I’ve got. And someone so young shouldn’t wield a sword so easily... It is less a boon than it is a burden.”

Link’s heavy stare met the old man again.

“But I suppose you already knew. I’ll keep you in my prayers, boy. Should I live, perhaps I’ll hope to see you again.”

Link took another look at Impa before leaving the cave. Back outside, he turned to face the cave, and took another look around him. In the far distances, he saw a cluster of tektites to the west, and more octoroks to the east and north.

He knew not why he had accepted Impa’s request so readily. He knew little of Princess Zelda, had no deep love for Hyrule. He could leave this place if he wanted to, and anyone in their right mind would. But even though the hate he bore for Ganon and his minions still burned strong, part of him felt compelled to do this task out of some duty.

“O brave hero,” Link heard. It was faint, far-off yet still close. “O brave hero, venture north. The great lake, you will find the first piece you seek. Save Hyrule.”

No longer alone, Link grasped his sword tightly, and took his first steps into the wild.

[absintheum]

double combo meal - kookii + rhyzaa

The smell of vanilla has been lingering in the kitchen of you hive for as long as you can remember. You had built a routine centered around keeping it that way, replenishing the grubwax in the melting pot three times every night, supplying the oil as necessary to keep it strong enough to mask the odour of the city without making you sick. It reminded you of rot, of stale saltwater, of all the things that ended with the spillage of blood. In one word, it reeked of what you should have been biologically wired to not pay any attention to, or seek out, with the exception that whatever genes had combined in your DNA, may have decided to do so with the sole scope to wire you like this on purpose, out of petty spite.

You had almost forgotten how it felt, but the back of your mind had turned it into the troll babadook, knocking from the basement door of your thinkpan, and just like troll Babadook, you had to learn to live with it, with specially made paint and various perfumes that wouldn’t let go of the fabrics of your wardrobe and the occasional elixirberry jelly lip moisturizer.

The city wasn’t the worst thing to plague your nose, however. As you grew older and closer to your ninth sweep of age, you had almost mastered the art of not letting yourself get sick from it anymore. You knew where to avoid setting foot in and where to pass, until you could map safe path after safe path.

The hardest part of the week was church day. The day in which you had to willingly walk to a place that you’d begged your lusus to let you skip attendance in your wrigglerhood. It never worked, but you knew better than to let other churchgoers see your displeased expression.

It wasn’t the incense nor the wicked elixir that did it for you. It was what they covered that felt like being punched in the gut, like covering spoiled meat in fake sugar and setting it on fire, before covering it with more fake sugar. It was the acrid smell of idolatry. The metallic one of the splatters that wouldn’t stop reeking, no matter how dry or old they were. The sour one of the bloodthirst that plagued those who had stopped sleeping in their cocoons’ slime, whose minds were beginning to wear under the nightmares. The sickly sweetness of the pixie stix that mixed in, to literally sugarcoat the reality of each and every terrible act that took place there.

Then there was a pungently acidic one, of disbelief and skepticism. It came from you. The worst one that you’d learnt to memorise. You were aware. You could see beyond what was fed to you in clowntechism, you could feel there was more to the reason your caste was always so heavily influenced by the cult built around the Mirthful Messiahs. You knew,stubborn in your conviction, but couldn’t say a word.

Church had become your still tragedy in three acts, the first one opened with the entrance, It was the click of your heels as you walked to the altar that ticked like seconds on a clock, timing the moment in which you knew you had to breathe with your mouth that signaled the beginning of the second. The handfuls of fairy dust thrown signaled the intermissions, in which you could breathe normally. The communion was the climax of the third act, before the closing of the third.

A violent, bloody climax, in which the frenzy of “whoop whoop” and discordant honks would rise as the offering met its fate. Sometimes, you had made the mistake of standing too close and the blood had sprayed on you, drenching you in the very thing you despise. It was akin to walking out of the hive with a new outfit, only to have it ruined by a shower of mud from the side of the road from  a scuttlebuggy driven by someone who handled the thing like they had stolen it.

It was infuriating, but best to swallow the croackbeast, lest you end up there in the next ceremony. You have too much to do to die so soon. There was comfort in knowing the script, however. You could count the second backwards, making the right movements, honks and expressions when needed before leaving for another week. Improv, however, you handled badly.

It was rare, but the occasional overzealousness of the moment would lead the slime-starved churchgoers into a frenzy that would end with a few smashed skulls and disembodied limbs. Such a scenario could be avoided if you were either a speedy runner, or strong enough to fight back before running to safety and letting the rest handle it, or strong enough to actually take down the opponent.

While usually you’d run, today you had been too slow.

You weren’t sure if you had been hit before or after you’d tripped on a torn limb and fell on the body that was missing it. It was still oozing blood in a shade that was a little too close to your own, it had stuck to the white of your hair and you were already dreading the following seconds. In the second it took you to regain consciousness of your surroundings, you were already being shadowed by a figure whom seemed to have been the firestarter of the chaos. In that moment, as your already cold blood froze in your veins, an old survival instinct awoke and sprung into action. May the Messiahs you doubted in so much forgive you, but you can’t blame a clown for wanting to live.

The minds of fellow clowns were already resistant to their fellows’ psychic control, but clowns who wouldn’t rest in sopor had thinning mind walls. Using one’s chucklevoodoos would be easy on them, but there was a small chance that the intruder would carry on a trace of their crazed fellow’s zealousness into their own mind. It was rare, but something to take into account, unless you were moments away from confirming or debunking completely your theories on the clown faith.

Your eyes flash and you break into the wet paper of your assalitor’s skull with little effort. The smell you dread so much grows stronger, the psychic link makes pinching your nose useless. At the limit of your patience and frustration, you hit a mental button to release psychic energy and spare yourself another hit, paying it back to your attacker. You hear their cheekbone cracking under their fist, over and over, in a gruesomely comical scene of “stop hitting yourself”. It feels like it lasts hours until you feel the link getting weaker and weaker, until it breaks. Whether the guy has just lost consciousness or embarked on a one way ticket to the Carnival, you don’t know for sure, nor want to know. Right now, all you know is nausea.

You struggle back to your feet, the blood that stained your face, hair and clothes makes it hard for you to breathe without inhaling what plagues you. A look confirms the emptiness of the church, save for a few others who, like you, hadn’t been lucky or fast enough.

The sugary and metallic scents made your stomach turn in queasiness. You dreaded coming home and staining the floor, but you were in absolute need for a shower, clean clothes and a fresh layer of paint.

The way home felt almost eternal.

You sat in the ablution trap, setting the water on as hot as it would get and scrubbing away at every patch of encrusted blood from yourself, hoping that if you could completely erase them from your skin, it would be as if it had never happened.  You came to find that you’d be disappointed from looking at what seemed like the early stage of bruises where you had fallen and were hit. The light purple under your skin ached to the touch. It took you three cycles of washing to deem yourself clean enough and free of the scent of frenzy, and by the end of it, the tip of your digits were starting to wrinkle from the moisture.

Ignoring your lusus’ knocks at the door of your respiteblock, you set alight the melting pot and watched the fruit-scented grubwax melt dissolve. You decided to ignore everything and slip in the comfort of plush and soft blankets of your makeshift cocoon, leaving outside only your head and your hands to hold your palmhusk, deciding to reply to the unanswered and unread text messages in a second moment and opting instead to watch mindlessly whatever the algorithm of grubtube had deemed worthy of your entertainment.

You couldn’t be bothered to check how long you have stayed there. You can hardly be bothered to answer a high-priority text from your matesprit. You’d informed here that today was a church day and you’d never want her worried. It wasn’t as if you’d risked getting a free skull crashing just this morning. Still, you knew that not answering was going to just result in more pressing texts, so you decided to take the male moobeast by the horns.

saccharinePierrot [SP] is juggling hearts to forensicCasefiler [FC]

SP: -x-0hello -x-0there my -x-0reddest red heart SP: -x-0what is the -x-0subject -x-0of today’s lovingly -x-0crafted -x-0conversation of which i -x-0am already -x-0aware of FC: are y0-0u alright? FC: y0-0u haven’t said a w0-0rd since service was supp0-0sed t0-0 start, and i deduce it is 0-0ver and has been f0-0r s0-0me time n0-0w FC: i d0-0 n0-0t kn0-0w h0-0w t0-0 be m0-0re e><plicit than this FC: i was w0-0rried ab0-0ut y0-0 SP: -x-0why -x-0yes, -x-0i am fully -x-0operational and -x-0functional and -x-0in great -x-0spirit, very -x-0very glad -x-0to be -x-0so FC: d0-0 y0-0u need t0-0 talk? SP: -x-0yes

The thought of lying through your teeth did cross your mind, but it was an unwise choice. Your matesprit, Rhyzaa, had been trained in the legislacerative arts of forensic examination and minored in detecting lies of people who were way better at lying than you. You were like a transparent piece of polymeric product in her specs. You supposed it wouldn’t hurt, it would almost be like a real feels jam, in person and all.

FC: i’ll get in a pile, 0-0ne sec

Damn, she was good. You snapped a quick picture while doing a sideways peace sign. You wouldn’t miss a chance to do some comedy and captioned it with a “ -x-0you -x-0know a clown -x-0too -x-0well “

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stare at the screen, unsure of what to respond to the newly received snapshot. If they were already cocooning, it sure wasn’t because they were taking their sleep schedule into account. You kept a plush cocoon just for these occasions, all you had to do was just to kick back, take off your specs and postpone a nail appointment. Maybe it would be a good idea to book a double one, as a self-care date. In the giant wall of post-its that lived in your mind, the nail appointment reminder appeared.

FC: all piled up, whenever y0-0u are ready

Your matesprit doesn’t waste a second and starts typing away, for quite a few minutes. In fact, you’ve considered getting up to grab some water, but decided against it. You don’t have the heart to be late to a bad day talk. You did spend the better of a few minutes reading through the messy texts, trying to piece together the happenings of your partner’s morning. An especially rough day, indeed.

FC: w0-0w, y0-0u managed t0-0 take d0-0wn that dude all by y0-0urself?? FC: that’s quite a feat! SP:-x-0your -x-0awe is -x-0understandable, -x-0my -x-0dearest. -x-0but -x-0yours truly -x-0feels that they -x-0have -x-0reached the -x-0bottom of the -x-0waterwell SP: -x-0what a turn of -x-0events, a -x-0clown who -x-0despised -x-0their -x-0predispositional mirthful -x-0destiny is the -x-0same clown -x-0to grow -x-0weary at the -x-0thought of -x-0clowning SP: -x-0hark, -x-0the writers -x-0are -x-0already banging -x-0at the -x-0door! -x-0offering -x-0life and -x-0limb for -x-0the -x-0rights to the -x-0story FC: you are the last h0-0rned walking creature t0-0 turn 0-0ut t0-0 be a sell0-0ut FC: but FC: y0-0u are als0-0 the 0-0nly h0-0rned walking creature t0-0 be able t0-0 rec0-0gnise the reality of y0-0ur acti0-0ns and see them as y0-0urs truly, rather than s0-0me0-0ne’s divine wish 0-0r will FC: n0-0thing can compare t0-0 that FC: and y0-0u know that you w0-0uld never let yourself be turned int0-0 wh0-0 let their screws get l0-00-0se FC: have y0-0urself a slime mask, y0-0u deserve it

You really hope you are saying the right words. You have read several papers about similar situations: it used to be, apparently, a common practice for some sub-sectors of the clown church, to advise practitioners to deprive themselves of the sopor slime’s soothing effects. The property damage fees are something that a past heiress decided was something she didn’t want to have anything to hear about and outright attempted to ban the practice.

You were actually writing your thesis on a similar topic, but as your thesis’ title would take longer to type than it has to have a proper conversation with someone, you would rather not mention it by specific name.

A purple text bubble flashes briefly before displaying a kissy clown emoji, followed by a simple text.

SP: -x-0you always know -x-0what say to -x-0validate me, and -x-0that is -x-0deeply -x-0appreciated SP: -x-0but, -x-0moving onto more -x-0pleasant -x-0views SP: -x-0how is the -x-0most -x-0successful -x-0soon-to-be -x-0exam committee -x-0member on -x-0this lovely day?

You pause for a moment. Do you want to subject your red quadrant to an in-detail explanation of your classes and homework, or should you make an introductory powerknifepoint? You decide to spare the juridic details, but nonetheless, leave them with a reasonable explanation of your scholarly activities. It’s a great thing that they love your ramblings, you could go on as long as you have breath, but your schedule doesn’t allow for that.

SP: -x-0wonderful, while i may not -x-0be -x-0well -x-0versed in your -x-0field SP: -x-0i do -x-0love to -x-0see it-x-0grow and -x-0flourish SP: -x-0you’ll -x-0do -x-0great, -x-0i’m -x-0sure

You and Kookii were lucky to have each other, especially coming from relationships that enjoyed crumbling like a stale.. heh.. cookie.. in a glass of moobeast juice. They had that pitch affair with that jade they wouldn’t talk about, and you didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. Your moirail disappeared into thin air. You knew she didn’t die, asyou received the occasional letter, hidden below the hive’s entrance mat and knew that calligraphy far too well and cast doubts aside. You even went so far to violate protocol and ask one of your colleagues to supervise and determine whether this was a forcefully pretty handwriting or less. You were relieved to know that it didn’t show signs of the writer being stressed, but it kept gnawing at you from the inside.

No matter how hard and where any lead brought you, eventually you were back at square one. Nobody around you could tell you anything useful or relevant and your options had ran dry. Then came Kookii. They seemed to be able to take away that gnawing feeling, that knot in your stomach that wouldn’t otherwise untie itself. You missed her so much, but eventually, you figured that you couldn’t let it consume your entire being. So you stopped looking. You could only hope she was ok. There was so much you wanted to tell her, but all you could do was wait and see if fate, the universe or whoever was pulling at the strings, decided to take pity on you and allow you to see her again, one last time, before departing to outer space. As it ws a matter of fact, you were glad you had this clown in your life. They were an oddity that you’d have never guessed could be real, but you were also delighted to find that their oddity was almost exceptional. You two just started clicking and chirping and never stopped for the better half of the sweep, and didn’t have any plans to stop. Your plans were mostly composed of your busy schedule that always had room for your perigreal nails appointment and weekly date night. You had always done your field work right, that allowed you to pick a career path that would lead you to a high rank among the other legislacerators, if you played your cards right.

This was a game of troll poker played with different uno cards editions for everyone, but you knew the rules very well. And nobody played troll uno-poker like you could while still being troll osha compliant, dashing and with perfect nails.

You wanted to do great things, even if your self-awareness manifested itself in the knowledge that the path ahead wasn’t going to be either a cakewalk, nor a choice that depended on you entirely, despite what the propaganda taught you. You wouldn’t buy it, but you, too, knew better than to run your mouth without thinking. The legal business is cutthroat and it wasn’t uncommon to hear of the passing of others who shared your ideas, but not your common sense. That meant that the common goal among a good part of the less imperialistic of your colleagues was going to be harder to achieve. It was dreadful, to think that you’d be left completely alone by the time of your ordeals.

It was dreadful, but it was still not time to fixate on those. You’d have time to dread later, all you wanted to do now was to make a good memory of your time with your favourite clown.

FC: y0-0u’re the best <3 FC: are y0-0u feeling better?

You replied simply and smiled at Kookii’s positive answer. It made you feel fuzzy inside, in an almost childish fashion. You absolutely loved it and wouldn’t give up these moments for all the success on the planet and off planet. Your flush partner’s texts kept coming, this time lightening the mood with a string of gifs picturing juvenile purrbeasts and hopbeasts being the cutest little things to ever exist. Just your favourite way to destress and feel good about the current state of things, accompanied by their cheerful sprechgesang. It was a little slice of paradise that made the rest worth.

You were thinking about putting the cherry on top and getting yourself a slime mask as well, when you heard your doorbug chirp. You put your sweetheart on hold for the moment it took you to get out of the pile and dash to the door, opening it with hope in your eyes. You died a little bit when you couldn’t catch a glimpse of anyone nearby, but picked up the letter deposited on your greeting mat nonetheless.

There was something in your heart that screamed at you to open it.

[myssamyss]

Everything Stays, Part 3 of 6

Part 3: A Lighter Underside

Malon lay in bed, sweating. Between the suffocating heat and her baffling fairy boy, she knew she wouldn’t sleep anytime soon. Instead, she stared up at her ceiling in the darkness and pondered. Link had been stoic ever since he showed up on the ranch earlier that afternoon, and he barely spoke throughout dinner. She even prepared his favorite creamy stew to soften him up, yet he said little more than thank you, followed by a lame excuse about some opportunity out on the edge of the kingdom. Admittedly, the stew would have tasted better if she’d had more time to let it, well, stew, but Fairy Boy hadn’t given her a lot of notice before waltzing up to her front door with his half-baked plan at goodbye. Frustration simmered in her chest. She knew, she knew confessing her feelings might backfire, yet she hadn’t made much of a counter-plan. Maybe she’d read him wrong…

After all, she also knew he hid things from her. She heard it in the way he clipped off his sentences, or how he sometimes thought long and hard before answering her questions. He’d always been mysterious, but several years ago Malon had sensed a dark shift in his demeanor.

She tried to quiet her nagging insecurities. Because surely that shift had nothing to do with her, she reminded herself. Whatever haunted him seemed much deeper. Still, she had long feared that he would lose interest in their friendship. Link was always traveling near and far, while she herself had barely journeyed beyond Castletown. She was simple and he was exciting. But he kept coming back to the ranch, so her hopes lived on, and she always held secret faith that their friendship was fated to grow into something more. Because what other explanation could there possibly be for a mysterious boy appearing in her life, first to rescue her father, then to visit her ranch and somehow play the same song her mother taught her so long ago?

And hadn’t her hopes held weight only a few weeks ago? Once she’d taken the terrifying plunge and finally admitted her feelings, Link had blossomed. He’d been smiling easily and humming through his ranch chores, and for a day his melancholy seemed lifted. But now, though Link was staying just down the hall, he seemed more distant and troubled than ever.

If he was any other young man, she’d suspect that another girl had come along. But this was Link for Hylia’s sake. He had many talents, but ensnaring ladies was not one of them. Oh, plenty of women adored him, Malon certainly noticed that. And who could blame them—he was kind and strong and true. Besides, Malon could tell that Link had absolutely no idea. He was innocent as a summer’s day was long.

But there were clearly secrets he was clutching close to his chest, and Malon was determined to figure out just what this strange young man was hiding. She couldn’t afford to act heartbroken, even if her heart was aching at the thought of him walking away after she had finally found the courage for a small kiss. Instead, she forced her wounded heart aside and pledged to use every ounce of her intuition to get Link talking. He may have made it through dinner without giving up his reasons, but she wasn’t about to let him leave the ranch without an explanation.

***

After a morning of trudging through the cool forest, the band of heroes came upon a tiny outpost town built along the dirt road. A handful of small, wooden houses stood half-hidden by dense green foliage, and a simple store faced the road with a wide porch welcoming travelers.

Warriors glanced at Time and raised his chin toward the store. “Supplies. We should stop,” he said. Time shot discerning glances to each modest building surrounding them before turning back to Warriors with a curt nod.

“So cautious…” Legend scoffed quietly from behind Wild. “As if we aren’t already the most dangerous group traveling this road.”

“Yeah!” Wind agreed less quietly. “Any enemies here? We could take ‘em!”

Hyrule turned and gave them a neutral look. The others carried on in silence. Wild grabbed his Sheikah slate from his hip and tapped it purposefully as they walked. One of his meanest-looking (and most unwieldy) weapons appeared in his hands: a massive three-winged boomerang that he’d stolen off a lizalfos. He took care not to nick himself on the jagged edges as he strapped it to his back.

Wind giggled behind him. “Way to look the part,” he half-whispered. Wild gave a furtive grin.

As they climbed the creaking porch stairs, Wild’s ears caught another, softer sound—a quiet rustling from their right. He turned instinctively to find its source.

A skinny boy clad in a worn, brown tunic peeked up at their group from amidst the bushes below the edge of the porch floor. Wild recognized a sad curiosity in the boy’s eyes as they darted to the heroes’ armor and heavy weaponry. While the others headed into the shop to haggle over supplies, Wild paused to make a split-second decision. Restocking had already seemed low priority for him; he had more than enough items in his slate. Why not take the opportunity to finally help someone small?

Wild crossed the porch silently and leapt the railing. He landed in a crouch just behind the boy.

“Hey,” he said softly.

The boy spun around, shocked, but Wild shared a soothing smile, raised a finger to his own lips, then gave the boy an exaggerated wink.

The boy giggled. Wild watched some sadness lift from the boy’s shoulders, and some of the buried guilt in Wild’s own heart lifted with it. Maybe helping this boy is enough.

Wild gestured to the wickedly sharp three-winged boomerang on his back. The boy’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Wanna see it fly?” Wild asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

The young boy nodded wildly.

Wild took two steps away from the boy and planted his feet in the mossy ground. He drew the boomerang. Behind the shop was a glade with a wide pond, but he knew the weapon would fly even further, so he angled his throw so that the spinning blades would clear the far trees. He paused just long enough to appreciate a familiar, calm contentment rising deep within his chest, and he knew in his bones that his concentration had returned.

He threw the boomerang with all his might.

It sailed in a long arc through the window of blue sky, then came whizzing back toward them with a deadly-sounding whishhh. The boomerang was coming in high. The catch would be difficult. Wild smiled to himself.  

He leapt. The boy gasped.

Wild threw his arm into the path of the whirling blades. His palm met the leather-wrapped handle with a satisfying thud. He fell back to the ground, triumphantly clutching the boomerang and reveling in his own precision. The abilities locked deep within his well-trained body could be incredibly fun—when his mind wasn’t standing in the way.

The boy cheered and clapped wildly. “That was amazing,” his small voice squeaked.

Wild grinned and held out the giant weapon.“You wanna hold it?”

***

“Where’s Wild?” Time asked, turning to the rest of the group gathered outside of the store. Based on his conversation with the shopkeeper, their party had a chance of making it to the next town by nightfall if they left now and traveled swiftly. Time worried at how long they’d journeyed without purpose. The sooner they made it to a true city, the sooner they could glean information on what they were all doing here, and why. They could complete whatever strange quest they were on. And then, just maybe, they could all go home. But they couldn’t head out without Wild.

Time had noticed small things about Wild lately. The young man had stopped sharing stories around the cooking pot in favor of silence. He no longer tagged along for Twilight’s shifts on watch, and he barely sparred with the others. Now, he was missing.

“I haven’t seen him,” Twilight replied.

“He wasn’t in the shop—he didn’t buy anything,” Four added.

Legend and Sky shrugged.

“I think he went off with that kid?” Wind offered.

Time hid his growing concern behind action. “We should split up and find him,” he directed.

The heroes nodded in agreement and started off in separate directions, yet they only managed to take a handful of steps. Their short search was interrupted by the distant BOOM of an explosion, followed by a great splashing noise. All eight Links spun toward the sound.

“Wild!” Twilight and Warriors hissed together.

A foreboding thought flashed through Time’s mind: Was stopping here a mistake? Did I put them in danger?

The heroes took off sprinting toward the explosion’s echo. Legend led, yet Time and the others kept pace as they flew past the store and dashed into the clearing. The sound of a second explosion split the air. Time itched to draw his heavy sword as the pond grew closer.

He caught sight of two figures on the opposite side of the wide pond near a crop of green cattails: a man in a sky-blue tunic and someone small. The heroes skidded to a halt across moss and dirt. Time threw a hand to his brow and squinted against the sunlight.

Wild stood on the other side of the pond, knee deep in the shimmering water alongside a tiny boy, with a fish clutched in each of his hands. The two were sopping wet. And shaking with laughter. And clearly, even from the distance, in no danger.

The eight heroes stood in anticlimactic silence broken only by their gasps of heavy breathing. Time could feel the others’ eyes darting to him in uneasy expectation.

“I’ll get him,” Time gruffed. He strode past Twilight, who all but jumped out of his way. “The rest of you should get ready to leave.”

Time rounded the pond. He, too, had noticed the boy in the bushes with small, sad eyes who’d watched their party cross the porch. They boy’s hair was dark and his tunic was brown but the sadness in his gaze had called to Time’s own boyhood sorrow. Time couldn’t dwell on his feelings, though. He already had eight other boys to watch over, not to mention a wife waiting patiently for his return, and he’d lived long enough to learn he could never heal all the hurts in all the worlds across time. So, he’d passed the boy by.

Time drew near the pair. “Wild,” he called out sternly. Wild jumped, then turned and met Time’s disapproving eye. The young man’s goofy grin disappeared. He slowly handed the fish to the boy next to him, keeping unwavering eye contact with Time all the while.

“It’s time to go,” Time told him.

Wild’s eyes narrowed slightly. “In a moment,” he replied, expression unreadable. Wild turned back to the boy. He tapped at his Sheikah slate to produce a small, wooden boomerang and several gleaming gold rupees. Wild crouched down and whispered in the boy’s ear, then pressed the boomerang to his tiny chest and the rupees into his hand. A twinge of emotion wavered in Time’s own chest. The boy giggled, curled his fingers around the rupees, and took off running.

Wild turned back to Time, nodded once, and fell into perfect step beside him as they started back around the pond toward the others.

Time put aside his sentimentality and fixed his good eye on Wild. “What were you doing?” he asked.

“Fishing?” Wild answered.

‘With explosions?’ was Time’s immediate thought, though he didn’t let his amused bewilderment bleed onto his face. If he hadn’t been in the middle of lecturing the young man, he would have asked for a demonstration. He loved fishing. And explosions. The combination sounded exciting. But for now, he had to be the responsible one.

Wild stared straight ahead at the approaching houses and didn’t offer more explanation.

Time spoke into the silence. “Look, you can’t just run off on your own,” he chided. “We have something important to do. We don’t have the luxury of tarrying here.”

Wild didn’t turn to look at him. He didn’t break his step. But Time could sense Wild’s posture stiffen at his words, ever so slightly.

“Don‘t you ever take a break?” Wild asked so quietly that Time could barely make the words out.

“What?”

“To stop and help someone? Or do something fun?” Wild said, louder now.

Time caught a sharp edge to Wild’s words. He must’ve hit on something churning in Wild’s mind...

And to answer the question, Time thought silently, yes. He adored breaks, and he’d admittedly taken many detours on his early adventures. Fond memories of lazy days spent catching fish and teaching a chorus of frogs to sing rose in his mind. But that was different. He’d had time then, whether it was a blessing or a curse.

“You could have at least told one of us where you were going. We were worried, Wild.”

Time’s words had barely left his mouth before he realized he’d said nothing of Wild’s question. The kid asks something serious and I scold him, what lousy leadership, he thought as regret rose in his throat. Falling back on his old question-dodging ways was too easy without Malon there to challenge him. He could almost hear her lilting voice in his head: ‘Did you ever stop to think why he might be asking the question? C’mon, think Fairy Boy,’ she pressed him. Goddesses, he missed her.

Wild blinked in plain confusion at Time’s scolding. Time felt even worse. Had Wild truly never even considered checking in with someone so they wouldn’t worry? How much time had this kid spent alone?

Time knew enough to hold his questions for another time. He’d already made a mess of their conversation. Wild was clearly upset. Time wouldn’t pry.

The two heroes walked back toward the others in fractured silence. ----------------------------- Author’s Note: thanks as always to @clumsydarknut for beta-reading. Go check out his stuff. No really, go check it out.

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 22 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 22 of UNDONE, our slow burn Bitney lesbian AU. Here’s a link to the previous chapters. And here’s some art inspired by the story (by people for whom I would happily give up a kidney!).  

Summary: Things are progressing: Bianca’s divorce, her pregnancy, and her relationship with Courtney. Bonus: a little redemption moment for Willam.

Beta’d by the wonderful @jimvssherlock and guardian angel @missdandee <3

TW: Refereces to emotional abuse, PTSD

***

“Hey!” Courtney looks up from the stove, where she’s got several saucepans simmering.

Bianca should have known - she’d briefly mentioned having a craving for spaghetti and meatballs that afternoon. So of course, here’s her fairy godmother, catering to her every whim. Courtney dumps a colander of cooked spaghetti back into the pot and begins to ladle in the sauce.

Bianca watches her, greeting the dogs and shifting on her aching feet.

“That smells heavenly.”

Courtney giggles a bit, trying not to smile idiotically at the praise, hoping it will live up to Bianca’s seemingly high expectations.

“I’m using pre-made meatballs,” she says, feeling the need to temper those expectations a bit. “Because...you know. Meat juice.”

“Totally fair.”

“But the guy in Whole Foods promised me they’re really good.”

“I’m sure they’ll be great. What can I do to help?”

“Um...I think everything’s pretty much done.” Courtney smiles at her, giving the pasta a vigorous stir. “Just relax.”

Bianca doesn’t argue, sitting down heavily and taking a sip from her water glass. There’s a bowl of caesar salad, a basket of garlic bread, and a tray of roasted broccolini. She definitely doesn’t deserve to be spoiled like this. If she wasn’t ravenous, she’d probably object.

“So…” Courtney begins, dishing out some hearty portions. “How was therapy?”

“Well…she seemed cool. She said to call her Bob, which is weird, but I like her. She laughed at my jokes, so that was nice.”

Courtney glances back at her, eyebrow raised a bit, before turning back to the stove to finish plating.

“Alright…” She carries the plates over to the table and sets them down.

Bianca bites her lip. She’s pretty aware that making her therapist laugh isn’t the goal. But the whole thing just felt so awkward--she couldn’t help herself. She picks up the little dish of grated cheese and douses her spaghetti with it.

“I know I’m probably doing it all wrong.”

“Doing what all wrong?” Courtney asks.

“Therapy.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, B.”

“I saw your face,” Bianca tells her. “Don’t act like you weren’t thinking it.”

“Well...I mean, yes, I think you probably have a different approach than I would. But...that’s your journey,“ she shrugs.

Bianca rolls her eyes.

“Can you not be perfect for like...three seconds?”

“I’ll do my best,” Courtney preens, with fluttering lashes and a sassy wink.

Bianca laughs and takes a huge bite.

“Oh my god,” she says, words muffled by her mouth full of food.

“Is it good?” Courtney asks hopefully, taking a delicate bite from her own plate.

“So good. I could cry. I wish you could taste it.”

“I’m okay with my veggie sausage,” she says, “But I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s fucking delicious,” Bianca manages to say, once she’s swallowed.

Courtney beams at her.

“But think how good it would be if you made the meatballs yourself. Lazy.”

Courtney scrunches up her face. She throws a piece of garlic bread across the table and Bianca ducks, cackling.

***

Asia’s tone is uncharacteristically warm as she goes slowly through the divorce petition with Bianca, making sure for the third time that everything in there is accurate. Bianca nods along, initialing where she’s supposed to, signing where directed, but her mind is elsewhere, spinning in unproductive circles.

After the last signature, Asia takes the sheath of papers from her, saying, “Last chance to change your mind.”

Bianca shakes her head.

“I’m not changing my mind.”

“Are you okay? This part is tough for people, so-”

“Yeah, I’m...I’m glad we’re moving forward, I just...there’s something I should probably have told you sooner.” Bianca bites her lip, the sharp pain keeping her grounded in the moment when all she really wants is to tune it all out.

“Alright.” Asia folds her hands, waiting.

“Um...I’m pregnant.”

Asia nods slowly, the only sign of surprise one slightly raised eyebrow.

“How far along are you?”

“A little over seven weeks.”

“Are you gonna keep it?” Asia asks, face impassive.

“Yes!” Bianca exclaims, following up with a softer, “...yes.”

Asia leans back in her chair, letting out a long sigh, nodding.

“This complicates things. You know that.”

“I do.”

“Alright.” Asia sits up straight, clicks her tongue and makes a note on her pad. Back to business. “We don’t need to change anything in the filing. We can tell them when we’re negotiating. If it’s still relevant.”

Bianca opens her mouth, horrified, a hand going automatically to her abdomen. Asia’s face softens, eyes flicking over to a framed photo of a beautiful little girl for less than a moment, then back to Bianca.

“I’m just saying...shit happens. No use bringing it up until you’re...out of the danger zone.”

Bianca nods, a sick feeling creeping into her stomach. Will she ever be out of the danger zone? She looks out the window, blinking back tears and trying her best to breathe evenly.

“Go home,” Asia tells her. “Try not to think about it. We’ll serve in the morning and I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from his lawyer.”

“Thanks, Asia.”

***

Courtney emerges from the fitting room, twirling in the full-skirted dress that she knows Bianca’s been working on all week.

“Well?” She strikes a pose.

“It’s perfect,” Bianca grins, taking the polaroid. “Come here.”

“Yeah?” Courtney sashays forward slowly, a coy sparkle in her eye.

Bianca waits for her to get close, close enough to see the faint freckles across her nose, to feel the heat radiating off her skin, before she holds up the lint brush.

Glancing down at it, an airy little giggle bubbles up out of Courtney’s chest, releasing some of the tension in the room. Bianca begins to roll the brush over the velvet fabric, lifting up one of Courtney’s arms by the wrist.

“Be gentle,” Courtney teases, and Bianca slows down.

“This good?” Bianca’s voice is a whisper.

Courtney nods, swallowing. She lets Bianca work, pliant as a doll, spinning with the softest nudge. Her heart beats rapidly as the roller runs over her back and shoulders. Bianca puts down the roller, smoothing the fabric with her hands.

“Okay...I think you’re good,” Bianca says softly, eyes catching Courtney’s in the mirror.

“Thanks.” Before she opens the trailer door, she turns back with a big smile on her face and suggests, “Rebel Wilson Del Rio?”

“Get out of here,” Bianca says, her amusement betrayed by the dimples that she fails to suppress.  

As the screen door shuts, Bianca can still hear Courtney’s laughter floating through the air.

***

“Hey Court, do you want to-” Bianca stops, leaning on the door frame, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing.

Courtney is in the middle of the room, airpods in, rocking out to some music that only she can hear. Without the accompanying audio, she looks possessed, gyrating like a madwoman. Bianca manages to catch almost 30 seconds of this bizarre show, dimples getting deeper and deeper, before Courtney spots her, gasping in surprise.

“Oh my god!” Courtney pulls out one of her airpods, breathing hard. There’s a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Bianca isn’t the least bit sorry. She’s wildly entertained, in fact. “Why the silent disco?”

“I was trying to keep it down...”

“You know, you’re allowed to play music in your own house.”

“I know, but…you were working.” Courtney offers a little shrug, and Bianca can’t help the overwhelming affection that floods through her.

“Thanks. Well...regardless, it was quite a show.”

“Oh yeah?” Courtney poses, hand on her hip, “You liked it?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she teases, grinning at Courtney’s look of feigned offense.

“Maybe next time you’ll join in.”

“Unlikely.”

“Mm...I’ll take that as a challenge,” Courtney laughs, eyes crinkling.

***

Bianca sits on the sofa in Bob’s office, fingers twisting a tissue in her hand. She doesn’t like the question that’s being posed to her, doesn’t know what to say. Bob repeats it, slightly differently, hoping for a response.

“Why do you think you can’t you say the word?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“How does it make you feel when I say it?” she asks.

“Um...ashamed. Like, how did I let it happen for so long? But also, kind of pissed...I don’t want to be a victim.”

“Well, you’re not a victim. You know, most people-” Bob pauses, adding, “-most women...they don’t leave. They stay. You left. You’re already well on your way towards starting a new life. You’re not a victim. You’re a survivor.”

Bianca nods, not quite believing her. There’s a familiar tingling in her fingers and toes, and she flexes her hands, shifting on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable.

“What’s going through your mind?”

Bianca bites her lip. It’s very unlike her to be at a loss for words, but that’s how she feels more often than not in this setting. There’s so much pressure to understand, to carefully deconstruct her thoughts in a way that she’s not accustomed. Usually, she speaks first and thinks later. That doesn’t work in here.

“I get what you mean...but I did stay. For over twelve years. That’s...we didn’t even get married until almost two years ago, we had no kids, nothing was keeping me. And now…” Her voice breaks. She pauses, gulping down some of her water.

Bob waits patiently, hands folded and head tilted. The picture of empathy. Bianca hates it; nothing makes her feel more broken inside than being looked at like that.

“What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did I stay?” Tears brim in her eyes.

“Why are you so determined to blame yourself?”

“Because I...wasn’t a prisoner. I could have left, anytime-”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” Bianca’s brow furrows in confusion.

“There’s more than one kind of prison, Bianca. Emotional abuse...it’s very tricky. It’s seduction and manipulation and torture all at the same time. The entire goal is to make you feel like you can’t trust your own reality. That you are, in fact, the one in charge, the one doing the manipulating. It is...it’s a waking nightmare.”

Bianca nods again, still feeling that burning shame coursing through her.

“And you woke up. The hardest part is behind you. I promise.”

“I don’t…” Bianca shakes her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Okay...fair enough. I guess time will tell, huh?”

Bianca laughs through her tears.

“I guess so.”

***

“Dear god…” Bianca looks down at the shopping cart, nearly full to the brim, as she follows Courtney through the aisles of Whole Foods.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just...so much! Why are you letting me buy all this?!”

“You think I’m gonna tell you that you can’t have something?” Courtney laughs.

“There are 5 different kinds of cheese in here!”

“You like cheese,” Courtney reasons, leaning over the back of the cart, placing a loaf of whole grain bread in the bag.

“I know, but you’re supposed to stop me!” Bianca exclaims.

“Yeah? What should I say? ‘I’m sorry, Ms. Del Rio, but we’ve hit the cheese quota today, you’ll have to put that back…’”

“No, just…” Bianca groans. “Remind me that I’m getting fat.”

Courtney folds her arms, a look of disapproval on her face.

“Excuse you-”

“Come on, seriously, I’m not supposed to be gaining this much, this early, I look like-”

Bianca’s cut off by a hand on her shoulder. Courtney’s walked around the cart and now staring her square in the face.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I am not-”

“Are so,” Courtney insists, voice soft and firm. “You’re beautiful, and you’re creating life. Say it. ‘I am beautiful and I am creating life-’”

“No,” Bianca answers, struggling to keep the smile from pulling at her mouth.

Courtney steps closer.

“Say it.” Her voice is practically a growl now.

“I...am beautiful and I am creating life.” Bianca manages to squeeze an eye roll in as well, which Courtney chooses to ignore, lips pursed in a self-satisfied smirk.

“Good girl,” she breathes, giving Bianca a pat on the ass before turning and flouncing back through the bakery, holding up a plastic package, asking sweetly, “Muffins?”

***

ALASKA: Hey, B. Willam told me that you and Jared are splitting up. I hope you’re okay. I think I might be able to help. Call me anytime if you want to discuss. <3

Bianca stares at her phone, unsure of what to do. After all, she hasn’t spoken to Alaska since that fateful night of the barbecue. And what if it’s some kind of trap...Jared standing over her shoulder, just waiting for the return call, or listening in?

She shakes her head. There’s a possibility that Willam would be involved in something devious like that, but not Alaska. Nonetheless, she doesn’t call right away. She stresses about it for a few hours first before finally settling down at her sewing table to dial, heart in her throat.

“Hey, I’m glad you called. How are you?”

Alaska’s voice is so gentle, so filled with warmth, that Bianca feels a twinge of guilt for doubting her intentions.

“Hi. Sorry for the delay, I’m at work, and-”

“No worries! I’m working too, so...I won’t keep you long, I promise. I just wanted to let you know that...Willam told me that Jared’s been saying some kind of troubling things at work, and he’s 100% willing to make a statement about it, or like, talk to your lawyer. If you want.”

“What kind of things?” Bianca can feel her heart speed up, her cheeks getting hot.

“Um…things like ‘this isn’t over’ and ‘I’ll show her’ and…” Alaska sighs, “I guess it doesn’t sound that bad, but like...I dunno, it made Will uncomfortable, and he’s pretty laid back. Maybe it was more like...the demeanor? You can totally talk to him directly if you want, but I thought it would be better if I reached out first. You know...girl to girl.”

“I really appreciate that...but...why? I mean...thank you but, why would he do this? Jared is his boss, his boy, I-” Bianca sniffles.

“Well...yeah, but. I mean, he likes you. And he’s pretty disturbed by some of the things Jared says to him, so…”

“God. I’m such an idiot.” Bianca wipes her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“When I first met you, I felt sorry for you. I thought that Willam was this giant douchebag, and didn’t understand what you saw in him, and...” Bianca trails off.

“Look, I get it. Willam’s a dumbass sometimes,” Alaska says with a chuckle. “But...he’s a good person. And he just wants to help, if he can. We both do.”

“Thank you, Alaska. Really, I...thank you.”

“Anytime. Take care, B.”

***

“...and so, obviously I’m glad he’s listening, but...I don’t know, it’s a little weird that he’s gone so...radio silent, you know? It makes me a little...anxious. I guess. Especially after what Alaska said.” Bianca hugs the pillow in her lap.

“That’s understandable,” Bob says. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I thought that’s what I was paying you for,” Bianca says, eyebrow arching up.  

Bob laughs. “That was rhetorical, but thanks for keeping me in line.”

“What’s your question?”

“Do you miss him?”

Bianca is a bit taken aback. They’ve spent the last month discussing how horrible her marriage was. She still has to choke back vomit every time she says the word ‘abuse.’ Does she miss him? Is Bob crazy?

“It’s very common,” Bob explained, seeing the confused and slightly horrified look on her face. “A lot of women have trouble adjusting to life outside of that dynamic. They convince themselves that it wasn’t that bad. Many even go back. Does any of that sound...familiar?”

Just outside the window, a pair of fluffy white clouds float lazily in the air. They’re so white and perfect, they look like a cartoon. Bianca watches them, listens to the birds chirping and the not too distant sound of kids splashing in a pool...a lawnmower. She turns back to Bob, shaking her head.

“No. Not...not at all.”

“Okay.” Bob makes a note on her pad, and Bianca grows a little antsy in her seat.

“Is that weird? I feel like...sometimes it feels like it wasn’t even real. Like...how was that over 10 years of my life? Because...I barely remember it now, unless I really concentrate. And even then…”

“It’s not weird. It’s just another way of coping.”

“Right now I’m having a hard time even...picturing his face clearly. I...definitely don’t want to go back. The idea of being in the same room together is…” Bianca swallows.

“But you’re having a child together.”

Bianca closes her eyes. “Yeah. He still...doesn’t know about that.”

“Does that worry you?”

“Um...I don’t...yeah, a little. But I think that he’ll...he might be a decent father. He really wants to be, so…” Bianca dabs at the corner of her eyes. “Asia said that we can ask for a therapeutic mediator, so that we can work out all our bullshit on our own.”

“You’ll have to be in the same room for that.”

“I know.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Nervous. But...I just keep telling myself that all of this is for the baby. So...it’s worth it. I can do it.”

“Of course you can,” Bob nods, giving her an encouraging smile.

“Do you think...will it ever be easy? Will I ever be able to face him without...feeling sick?”

Bob tilts her head, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“If you really work at it, anything is possible.”

“Wow. Way to not commit to an answer, Bob,” Bianca says, getting a spirited laugh in return.

“That might be a good place to end for today,” she says, gesturing to the clock. “I’ll work on a more committed answer.”

“Yeah, do that.” Bianca’s dimples pierce her cheeks as she rises from the couch.

“See you next week?” Bob gets up from her chair and follows her to the door.

“Yeah,” Bianca says, then adds a soft, “Thanks.”

Bob smiles, reaching for the door, pausing when Bianca misunderstands the action and gives her an awkward fist bump.

“Well, alright then,” Bob says kindly, as Bianca cringes. “See you soon.”

***

“So...what are we looking for?” Courtney asks.

Bianca stands in the middle of Third Street, eyes darting around the bustling shopping center. She’s aware that this is the last place that Courtney would normally go willingly--the bougiest part of Santa Monica, full of tourists and ladies who lunch and harried, put upon retail employees. But she’s determined to find something special for Latrice, something she can give her on the morning of her wedding. She feels like she’s really dropped the ball as far as Maids of Honor go, barely helping with anything at all.

“I...don’t know, exactly. I just want her to know that I…” Bianca’s eyes fill with those cursed hormonal tears.

“Alright. Maybe…we just wander?” Courtney smiles at her and puts a reassuring hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards a jewelry cart up the road. “That cart looks cute, let’s start there.”

It could be the late summer heat, but Bianca feels like her skin is nearly burning where Courtney’s touching her. Especially at the hem of her shirt, where one fingertip is in contact with Bianca’s skin. She tries to stand up straight, muscles flexing against Courtney’s hand, a feeling of indescribable loss when she takes it away. Which is almost immediately followed by euphoric joy moments later when Courtney grasps her hand and lets out a squeal of excitement.

“Omigod, B, look!” she cries, pulling her towards a shoe store window, where a tiny pair of glittery rainbow cowboy boots are on display. “Elle Macpherson Del Rio NEEDS those boots!”

Bianca laughs and follows her to the window, seeing her eyes lit up in the reflection.

“Very cute.”

“Sorry, I know this is like, an immediate deviation from your agenda, but...they are bloody fantastic. Right? Even if you didn’t want a baby it would be worth it to have one, just to get those.”

Bianca continues to chuckle, gripping Courtney’s hand tightly.

“So...I guess we’re hoping for a girl, then?”

“No, not necessarily.” Off Bianca’s raised eyebrow, she adds, “Well, why should girls have all the fun clothes?! Guy Pierce Del Rio can totally wear them too.”

“Hashtag equality?”

“Exactly.” Courtney flashes a dazzling grin and pulls her into the store. “Come on!”

Bianca continues to hold onto Courtney’s hand as she follows her into the store. It occurs to her that standing this way, fingers laced together, people will probably assume that they’re a couple. The thought fills her with nervous, fluttery excitement - the kind that she hasn’t felt for what seems like the longest time.

As Courtney chats casually with the sales clerk about the best size to buy, Bianca steps closer, wrapping her free hand around her arm and leaning a head on her shoulder. It might be slightly childish, but she wants no mistake in anyone’s mind.  

Mine.

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter Thirteen

Excerpt - Yet here she was, strolling through the Schönbrunn Palace Gardens, her hand safely tucked in the palm of the man who had promised to come whisk her away for the evening. Tom had informed her that he had planned on wooing her that night. Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness @shadyskit @memoriesat30 @antyc67 @just-the-hiddles @sheris532 @marggot4 Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter Thirteen : Vienna 

1. Charlotte did her best to keep her facial features under control. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her mind focused on something else, anything else, fearing she just might break out in a besotted smile if she didn’t. And this was not the time nor the place to do just that. 

From inside the hotel lobby Charlotte had a clearly view of see Tom waiting on her. As she neared the sliding doors she noticed him standing tall next to a taxi. A taxi?  

To her delight he’d caught her walking up to him and his lips curved into a content smile, his one eyebrow slowly lifted disclosing his (though slightly anxious) excitement. Well, that didn’t help things at all. And Charlotte was surprised at the amount of willpower she needed to prevent herself from just running up to him and falling apart in his arms. 

No, no, she would be cool about this, she reminded herself as she walked through the hotel’s entrance and steady on closer to Tom. So very sophisticated and ladida, acting as if nothing could ever knock her of her feet. Not his admiring gaze (there goes my heart), not the smile that reached up into his eyes (hello good sir) and certainly not the softest kiss on her cheek that might have lingered on a tad bit too long.

Charlotte pressed her fingertips into his arms as Tom’s cologne dizzied her. Oh how badly did she want to slightly tilt her head and brush her lips up against his. But she shouldn’t, she couldn't. They needed to be discreet. 

She gladly allowed him to escort her into the awaiting taxi. And when he’d urged the driver to head on, she wanted to remark in all honesty how completely silly and unnecessary this was. Her hotel was smackdown in the center of Vienna. Everything was within walking range….

But then it dawned on her. Just a ride around the block. Just enough time to put his lips on hers. 

“Good heavens darling, this day went on for too long....”

2. It felt a bit strange to her, strange it that funky out-of-your-body-type of experience. Was this her life? Was this her reality? Wasn't she supposed to be networking, making connection for future endeavours, mingling with the in-crowd? Stretching her mind in academic discussion about legal competence and end-of-life care? 

Yet here she was, strolling through the Schönbrunn Palace Gardens, her hand safely tucked in the palm of the man who had promised to come whisk her away for the evening. Tom had informed her that he had planned on wooing her that night. She'd chuckled in absolute delight as he laid out his plans. Things had evolved so fast up until that point he now solemnly believed he needed to slow down the process. More than that really; he wanted to go back a few steps and make a start the way things he found should start. He wanted to pull back from the hussle and bussle of everything and just take his (and her) time. Together. But discreetly. Always so very discreet.

The Palace Gardens were a great place to start. The courtyard was mind blowingly big, enormously outstretched. It held so many types of flowers, and all shrubberies were tweaked to perfection. It was simply perfect and with the maze and all, nothing short of a fairy tale. The crown of it all however was the Gloriette, a pavillion type of building with grand windows. It had been designed to glorify Habsburg power and the “Just War” (a war that would be carried out of "necessity" and lead to peace). 

These days the Gloriette houses a café and an observation deck which provides panoramic views of the city but unfortunately it was already closed by the time Tom and Charlotte passed through.

Charlotte sighed at the sight of so much splendour and, without realising, held on tighter to Tom’s arm. He chuckled warmly and shared his admiration with Charlotte before urging her to tell him more about her current plans… There were so many questions, so many things he wanted to learn about her. 

He led her to a cosy little Italian place near the river. Highly recommended by Ben and Sophie, who described it as a nice and quite yet authentic restaurant where they would surely be able to enjoy a ridiculously good pasta in all privacy. Tom didn’t need to hear about this place twice and made reservations - himself - as soon as possible.

Ben and Sophie were clearly very reliable advisors. That became quite clear when Tom sat down on the patio of said restaurant. With Charlotte across the table, toasting with a glass of red wine, the evening was already all he had hoped it to be. They wined and dined, they talked so easily, with a fair amount of flirt that was steady on growing stronger through the course of their meal. His hand searched out hers at the table and squeezed it gently while he quietly proposed they would take their dessert elsewhere. Charlotte lifted a brow under a playful chuckle and flirtily added he’d made her quite curious now… about that dessert...

3. Never in a million years would Charlotte have guessed there would be some last minute running involved after that incredibly delicious meal. She’d spontaneously declared Tom insane, loudly questioning what he was up to as she rushed after him towards to some sort of house by the river.  

But Tom would not be Tom if he hadn’t prepared the evening. He was enamoured with her and he felt happier than he had felt in a long time. But he hadn’t walked the parcours to all of this like he usually would and he nervously and desperately wanted to make up for that. He want a night of perfection, a night of romance, an evening out in which we could prove to her that he - personally - made an effort. Just for her. And that he had gladly ruled out any other intrusions beyond themselves. That part was a tricky bit though. But he happily went for it. For her.  

And that’s why he felt they needed to catch the very last riverboat that night. The absolute last one that was to depart that evening in fact; because the summer sun was about to set. With this last boat ride

Charlotte had giggled and merely shook her head as they boarded. Yet she couldn’t resist but to quietly and playfully reprimand Tom with, “I’m here. With you. That is all that matters. To me, that is.”

He’d nodded in understanding, but under a bashful smile, gladly guided her to the back of the pleasure boat; out on the terrace on those wooden benches. Tom mindfully draped one of the fleece blankets over Charlotte’s legs as dusk had now started to set in. Charlotte exhaled blissfully at his thoughtful gesture. And when Tom put his arm around her shoulders, she allowed herself to relax and lean closer to him. There were absolutely no paparazzi here. Nor other spying eyes. Everybody’s attention was clearly turning on the scenery outside of the boat, not inside. 

“I know darling,” he finally replied to her, “and I apologise for rushing you, but… I want, or I need, tonight to be perfect. I just want this to be ‘us’. Nobody else.”

“Us... ,” Charlotte’s lips curved into a smile, “I like the sound of that.”

She chuckled some more as she flicked her fingers against the baseball cap he’s put on during their mad dash for the boat. It was an nice attempt for anonymity, but she hated the thing. Tom looked back at her sternly, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. 

“Steady now, love…” 

Charlotte tittered before setting her sights back onto the beautiful scenery as the boat glided across the Danube river. It was quite here, serene even. No crowds, no traffic, only the sound of water lapping the hull of the boat. She admired the Austrian architecture, but her breath got caught when she could very clearly now see the sun setting against the horizon. And Vienna’s city lights came to life. 

A small shiver ran across her back and she felt his arm pull her in closer. Charlotte slid out her seat a bit and allowed herself to shamelessly lean against his strong chest. His familiar cologne immediately soothed her and she sighed while admitting to him the scenery was simply beautiful. 

Tom smiled to himself and looked down at her lovingly before he ever-so-sweetly placed a longing kiss on her lips which she most definitely did not reject. Charlotte gladly molded herself to his position and gratefully returned the kiss she did expect to be receiving in public.

Two days ago, they had spent their afternoon in London talking in earnest over lunch, and then lounging in his living room afterwards. They had taken their time with discovering the other, with kissing and feeling, with lounging and talking. But they hadn’t slept together again since Edinburgh, and right now this somehow - and very acutely - only added to the longing. 

A small whimper escaped from her Charlotte’s mouth and Tom pulled back with a slight curse under his breath when he realised the boat tour wouldn’t be over for another 20 minutes…

While their kiss softly but surely deepened, his hand snuck lower and under the blanket where it caressed one of her legs and the upwards before softly bit surely clasping her inner thigh. Charlotte squirmed in her seat uneasily, locking her eyes with him surprised. 

“I thought you were all about discreet,” she mumbled with an eyebrow raised in delight. 

“Oh but I am darling,” he whispered into her ear while he adoringly massaged her thigh. 

“B-b-beg to differ…” she stuttered, a slight blush rising to her cheeks..

His crystal blue eyes met her chocolate brown ones. 

“So happy. Here. With you,” 

4. Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure how they had managed to make it safely from the boat back to the hotel room and franky at that time she couldn’t care less about it. Because Tom’s lips were leaving a deliciously enthralling trail of kisses down her neck. Leaving a path of gentle nips from the column of her neck down to her clavicle, Charlotte dropped her head back in surrender and blissfully gasped his namen.”

Tom groaned appreciatively as he sweetly pressed his lips onto her almost bare shoulder. Charlotte’s hands ran over his shoulders and then over his neck and up into his hair. She curled her fingers and softly tugged at his curls in an implicit attempt for him to place his lips onto hers. Words were a bit of a struggle for her now that arousal had started to cloud her mind.

Their mouths very quickly came crashing back together again. The word frantic came to mind. When they pulled back their gasps for air were slightly mingled with idiotic chuckles. 

“It’s been too long,” Tom whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

“Mmm, I agree,” Charlotte breathed. 

“Give me a second, will you,” he chuckled, “else I fear I won’t last long…” 

She loved how he gently stroked her long hair while seemingly grounding himself for a moment. His eyes were closed and she distinctly heard him taking a deep breath in and out. And while she contemplated on following his example but failed to do so as her heart was still savagely beating within her chest. She did manage to close her eyes while he slid his hands over her body, carefully tracing her curves. But slowly this time. He wanted to take his time. That was obvious. 

She felt his hands slid down over her waist, over the swell of her hips and down her thighs. While his mouth slowly claimed hers again. His tongue slowly gliding against hers, tasting of wine of the promise of a wonderful night. His fingertips rimmed the seam of her dress and trailed upwards over her thighs while Charlotte’s agile fingers patiently yet deftly unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands slid under the light fabric, firmly splayed out against his toned chest, up to his shoulders where she proceeded to push the piece of clothing off. 

And in return she gladly lifted her hands over her head so he could lift her summery dress up over her head as well. 

He murmurs something she couldn’t hear and probably wasn’t meant to hear. She would ask in normal circumstances ask but then his hands reached out the the curves of her breasts where they stroked and teased and readied the path his lips and tongue were so eager to follow. 

Words not important now.

It was only a matter of seconds before the last pieces of clothing found their way to the floor and Charlotte slowly laid down on the luxurious hotel bed. Desperate for any kind of friction now, she was ever so delighted when Tom skilfully undulated his toned body over hers. A slight moan got caught in her throat when his teeth softly sank into her lower lip and she raked her fingernails playfully over his lower back in retaliation. He shivered in response, muttering she was a “bad girl,” before ravenously continuing his teasings. 

When his fingers trailed down to her apex of her legs, she flinched and her head lulled back. A muffled whimper escaped her lips, much to Tom’s pleasure … And with even more adoration for her then before he bent down lower and decidedly ran his tongue over her little bundle of nerves. 

Charlotte proceeded to gasp, this time not so slightly anymore. Her hands clutched onto the sheets in all her might while Tom teased on, adding pressure with his thumb before steadily spoiling her on. A little peak disclosed to him how beautiful she truly was, all pretences stripped away, blushing feverishly and moaning delightful things in response to him. 

He took pride into bringing her to a climax and enjoyed witnessing her fall to pieces, knowing it was his doing.. Truth be told, it wasn’t a moment too soon for him though. With a speed and ease he anxiously chased after his own release that came much to soon to his liking. He needed to learn to pace himself again, he reprimanded himself jokingly. 

They rolled into each other’s embrace easily, lovingly, catching their breaths in unison. 

“Good heavens,” Tom joked, “you’ve ruined me!”

“How’s that?’’ Charlotte frowned under a laugh. 

“I don’t last that long with you. Christ” 

Charlotte lost herself in a fit of giggles. 

“Seriously,” he continued, “I want a rematch later on.”

“Later on?” she teased, “oh my, do you think you can manage that?”

“Hey!” he shot back, “why did you think I insisted on picking up these?” he winked devilishly to the cake boxes he’d picked up at Café Prückel on their hasty flee from the boat to the hotel. 

But Charlotte happily delved in though. Both skimpily covered with a hotel sheet, they savoured the stupendous cakes with vigour, and stealing a morsel from the other’s cake with their plastic forks. 

“Could get used to this,” Charlotte confessed with a smile.

“Mmmm, yeah,” Tom blissfully agreed, “I admit,” he added while munching on, “this one is the best ever though.”

He fed her another piece of his Sachertorte and jokingly pulled away when she wanted to take a bite. Charlotte cursed him under a loud giggle. 

But it was true. The cake was extremely good. And it was also true that Charlotte could get used to this just as well. Easily so... 

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

LinkedUniverse Fanfic Ch. 4: The Beach pt. 2

Stop! You’ve Violated the Law!

So, you’ve stumbled upon this original post for my Linked Universe fanfiction. That’s okay, it happens to everyone. As of March 2021, I’ve uploaded the entirety of this fanfic to my Archive of Our Own page. Along with finally giving the story a name--Oops! All Links: A Linked Universe Story--I made substantial edits to some of the chapters. These range from minor stylistic revisions to fixing a gaping plot hole that kinda completely broke the character conflict in the earlier chapters. I also renamed and renumbered (but not reordered) the chapters. Specifically, this is now Chapter 5: Stars and Stories.

The AO3 iterations of these chapters are the definitive versions. So, if you would like to read this fanfiction, please do so on AO3, right here. With this embedded link. Hehe. Geddit? Link?

Note: My screen name on AO3 is FrancisDuFresne. Yes, that is me. I am not plagiarizing myself.

Anyway, for posterity’s sake, the rest of the original post is below the cut.

Continuation of my @linkeduniverse narrative you can find here Thank you again @jojo56830 for creating this AU that is so inspiring to write for! Word count is 2143.

Wild checked his Sheikah Slate. The map function was finally working again, having lost reception in the cave. The village the nine heroes were traveling to was still a day’s walk away. He looked up from the slate and stared into the distance. The beach faded into rolling hills, obscuring their destination. He turned back to his companions.

They were drying off from their swim. Hyrule found wood washed up on the shore and started a fire with it. The orange flames complemented the purple dusk as the sun set. Wind and Twilight sat together facing the ocean. Wind was splayed out, enjoying the view that reminded him of home. Twilight had his knees tucked close to his chest, hugging his shins.

The younger of them turned to the older. He was about to compliment him on his Great Spin Attack back in the water but stopped when he saw his face. An odd expression played across Twilight’s features. Was it sadness? Contemplation? Regret? Wind couldn’t tell but decided against asking. It was probably better, he reasoned, to let Twilight be.

Wild started walking back to the fire. Legend looked up at him, opening his mouth as if about to say something. Wild shot him a glare, then spoke. “Before you ask me rudely, I’ll just say it. The village is a day’s walk away. Once we leave this beach, it’ll be hills for a few hours, a brief walk through light woods, then flatlands to finish it off. If we don’t hit any snags, we’ll be there by sundown.”

A general murmur of acknowledgment passed around the circle. Wild sat down between Four and Warrior and lowered his head. He felt awful for letting his friends down in the cave. “Guys,” he began. “I’m sorry about back there. I didn’t think that would happen.”

No one spoke for a moment. Warrior spoke up. “Don’t worry about it. Luckily, Sky here kept a cool head and was able to guide us out. Just warn us when that might happen again. It always pays to have a contingency.”

“Wait a moment,” Sky piped up. “What do you mean ‘if we don’t hit any snags?’”

Wild sighed. “There may or may not be enemy camps in that forest. My map can’t say for sure. I’d say we’re well-prepared for a fight, though. How’s our arrow count?”

Legend shuffled through his pouch. “Forty-two. We’re going to want to stock up when we hit that village. You sure your weapons are battle-ready?”

He was referring to the chipped sword and dented stalfos shield lying by Wild’s pouch. He was going to ask Wild about the shield but figured that the fight damaged his original shield beyond repair. Wild wasn’t very selective about the weapons he used. “Yes,” Wild said sharply. “They’ll be fine.”

“So, monsters,” Warrior said. “What are we looking at?”

“I can’t tell. Could be moblins, bokoblins, who knows? At least this time we’re walking through the woods during the day. I’ve had enough fights in the dark for a while.”

“Hm. Well, we’ll just have to be on full alert. Which also means we should get some shuteye.”

Wind patted Twilight on the shoulder, got up, and strolled over to the fire. “Wait,” he said. “I still want to know about Four’s power.”

The shortest Link’s Four Sword had the power to split him into four separate heroes. Prior to using it in desperation during the stalfos fight, he had never mentioned it to any of his companions. It took so much energy out of him that he fainted immediately after becoming whole again. He only woke up hours later, when they had reached the beach.

Four sighed. “Well, it’s my sword. It was gifted to the Hylians by the Minish race. It was originally called the Picori Blade. The sorcerer Vaati shattered it when he unleashed evil upon Hyrule. I journeyed the kingdom finding four sacred elements. With the help of the Minish, I forged it into this.”

He raised the Four Sword, firelight playing off the blade. Like Sky’s Master Sword, it somehow seemed to reflect light brighter than anything else around it. “The Four Sword,” the hero continued. “It has the power to split me into four people. They’re fragments, not copies. My personality splits between them. We used to argue a lot, but now we can fight in perfect unison.”

Sky, Wind, and Legend exchanged glances. They had all gone through a similar process to make their swords. They used sacred flames, pure metals, and dwarven blacksmiths and a great fairy, respectively. It occurred to them that there seemed to be a pattern.

Four continued: “It takes a lot of energy out of me to use that power. I didn’t want the burden of you all pressuring me to use it. I’m sorry.”

“Like I said earlier,” Legend spoke up. “Don’t worry about it. Without that, we would have kicked the bucket back there.”

A moment of silence passed. Legend scanned the group. “So, that being said, anyone else have any powers they haven’t mentioned? Now would be an opportune time to tell us.”

Wind perked up. “You know that my sword can stop time, right?”

“Yes. How could we forget with you always telling us? It would help if you actually remembered that when we’re in combat. I seem to remember Twi needed to save your hide in the cave because you forgot. Again.”

“Geez, I get it. Don’t have to rub it in.”

Time froze. He did indeed have powers he had never told anyone but Malon of. The masks he acquired in Termina were instrumental in stopping Majora’s Mask, but he hated wearing them with a passion. Wearing a dead person’s soul had always made him feel sick. The Fierce Deity’s Mask terrified him. Its power was so great that he feared if he ever put it on again, he might not want to take it off.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Legend pointed flourishing his left wrist. Everyone looked at it expectantly, figuring some transformation would happen. It didn’t. “This bracelet here is a gift from my counterpart in an alternate world,” he said. “His name is Ravio. Dunno where he got the thing, but I can use it to transform myself into a painting.”

This was met by a mix of mild surprise and indifference. “What?” Legend asked. “No big reaction?”

Sky shrugged. “Well, that sounds cool and all, but how useful can it really be?”

Legend snorted and cocked an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised. It’s gotten me out of many a sticky spot.”

“Why haven’t you used it around us yet, then?” Hyrule prodded.

Silence. Legend flushed and sat there a moment, then admitted: “I… haven’t had a good chance to use it.”

“You probably could have used it in the cave,” Sky suggested. “We were surrounded by walls. Could’ve pulled a sneaky on the Stalfos.”

“Well, I haven’t used it for so long that I… kinda forgot about it.”

Wind shouted out, “Ah ha! Look who’s forgetting useful powers in the middle of combat, now!”

Time chuckled. “You do have to take it off and put it back on every time you get dressed. You’d think you would remember of it.”

“Listen!” Legend growled. “I just wanted to tell… urgh, whatever.”

The Links had a good laugh over this all. Time sighed in relief. No attention had fallen on him after all. As much as he hated keeping secrets from his friends, he was still afraid they would ask him to use the masks. Worse still, if they would become afraid of him. Fortunately, that discussion could wait until another day. A day that might never come, Time hoped.

After the laughter subsided, Four remembered the question that had been nagging at him all day. “Alright, so after I rejoined and fainted, Legend carried my weapons. Who carried me?”

“It was Twi. Not really a shock, is it?” Warrior said. “He picked you up as soon as I made sure you weren’t dead.”

It didn’t occur to Four that it wouldn’t be obvious that he fainted, that they might think he died. They had never seen anything like that before. “Oh. Thanks. Didn’t mean to give you guys a scare like that.”

Warrior shrugged. “Eh, you’re good.”

“Thanks. But what about Twi? Is he okay? He’s been sitting there by the water since we got out.”

Time was facing away from the water. He turned around to face his friend. Twilight was in the same position as before, staring off into the ocean. The sun had long set, so all that could be seen out there was the stars and their reflections. Still facing Twilight, Time said to the rest of them: “It’s probably not the first time he’s carried a fallen friend on his back. Maybe he’s reliving bad memories?”

Wild bowed his head fraction and sighed. “He wouldn’t be the first. Someone ought to check on him.”

“I will,” Time said. “Don’t wait on us to get some rest. We have a long day ahead.”

“When is it ever not a long day?” Wind muttered. This got a few giggles.

With a grunt, Time pushed himself off the sand. He turned and strolled over to Twilight. He paused a moment to appreciate the beautiful ocean view. The breeze was getting chilly. Content, he lowered himself to the ground next to Twilight.

“Twi.” Time said. “What’s wrong?”

Twilight kept staring ahead, but Time could tell his eyes were red and his cheeks damp. Time had never seen him this upset; it was a tad unnerving. “I need a minute,” he choked out, “okay?”

Time shook his head. “You’ve had plenty of minutes. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just… carrying Four out of there reminded me of a really terrible thing that happened… At one point, Midna was mortally wounded by a light spirit. As a wolf, I ran all the way to Hyrule Castle with her on my back. She barely managed to say that we needed Zelda.

“I was terrified that she wouldn’t make it. It was pouring that night. By the time I reached Castletown, my fur was sopping wet. I couldn’t get into the castle through the gate, so I had to take the sewers in. Every detour, every obstacle, every monster slowed me down. I felt like there was a clock ticking in my head, reminding me that Midna was on borrowed time.”

Clock ticking in his head, Time thought. If only he knew.

“Once we reached Zelda, she said that it wasn’t her duty to save Hyrule. It was up to Midna and me. Then she held Midna’s hand in hers and…”

Twilight choked up again. He didn’t bother to wipe the fresh tears off his face. After staying silent for almost a minute, he continued. “Zelda gave her life force to Midna, reviving her. By the time Midna realized what was happening, it was too late. She was screaming, begging Zelda to stop, but before we know it, Zelda was just… gone.

“Of course, it ended up working out for us all. For the most part. But that was awful. Carrying Four wasn’t really that bad. We knew he was okay, and I only needed to carry him until he woke up. But—”

“But,” Time interrupted, “the strangest things can trigger these awful memories. Trust me, I know… I’m sorry. About what happened that night.”

With a sniffle, Twilight finally looked up at Time. Between the puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and wind-disheveled hair, Twilight was an utter wreck. Time gazed into his eyes. They had a certain depth to them that he saw every time he looked in a mirror. His expression softened.

“Come here,” Time said as he put an arm around his friend and pulled him closer. They sat there a while in silence. The only sound was the gentle surf moving to and fro ahead of them. The breeze brought a biting chill now, and Time could feel Twilight shiver under his arm.

Time withdrew his arm and stood. He turned to face the fire. It was starting to die off. The Links seemed to either be asleep or falling so. Wind was snoring softly. Wild was rolled on his side and could have been asleep had the faint light of his Slate not been glowing. Time remembered their earlier exchange about Twilight not being the only one to relive bad memories.

Twilight stood as well, and the two heroes walked forward together. They laid down in the company of their other selves, their friends. It was a beautiful scene: nine young heroes circled around a dying fire on a secluded beach, starlight glittering off the ocean. As the embers cooled and flickered to darkness, so were the Links stolen by sleep.

[wild-blue-sonder]

Tips for Breath of the Wild Newbies

Or anyone who may be as obsessed with the game as me.

I’ve officially done five playthroughs of Breath of the Wild since I got the game and Switch last year. Even though I’m on my sixth now, I’m still somehow discovering things while playing it! That goes to show how expansive and utterly amazing it is. If I had to choose just one game to play for the rest of my life, it’d be Breath of the Wild without hesitation. It has officially dethroned Twilight Princess as my favorite Zelda title which I never thought would happen. Anyway, if you’re a new player like I was just last year, or a veteran looking to critique some hints and tips, I hope this post doesn’t disappoint!

1: Thoroughly explore the Great Plateau This area is the beginning of your journey, and methodically running all over it will equip you for the rest of your adventure. There are some weapons lying around other than weak Traveler’s and Boko gear, such as a Soldier’s Bow at the top of the Temple of Time (which you literally can’t miss after the first major cutscene), a Throwing Spear in the Bokoblin camp behind the Temple, and a Soldier’s Broadsword under the waterfall of the snowy area. Raiding all the Bokoblin camps will reward you with a few ambers and opals you can sell for rupees early on. Keep the Iron Sledgehammer you get in the Owa Daim shrine and use it to defeat the Stone Talus near Hopper Pond instead of expending precious, expensive Bomb Arrows. Make it a habit to use Magnesis near any body of water, especially bogs. Comb the Forest of Spirits for all its insect and food resources. Lastly, there are eighteen Korok seeds to be found around the Plateau which gives you a good start to upgrading your inventory.

2: Gather Korok seeds early and efficiently Most new players probably want to know how they can carry more gear since it breaks. Hestu provides the solution to that issue and you can’t miss him if you follow the main questline. There are 900 Korok seeds in the whole game but you only need 441 to max out your gear slots. My favorite areas for getting a lot of seeds early on are the Dueling Peaks and Hateno regions (combined to form Necluda), the Lake region, and north-northwestern Faron. You can easily glide to many seed locations from the Lake tower and the top of Dueling Peaks. Zelda Dungeon is the best resource for finding seeds.

3: Embrace the durability system Something I hear from many players is their hatred for weapons breaking, but that system is in place for a reason! There’s tons of gear scattered all over Hyrule and breaking it gives you the opportunity to try out everything. I’m sure you will come to favor certain items as you progress. I hate finding a chest with a good weapon or shield in it that I can’t carry because my inventory is full, so I have to throw something on the ground ‘cause I’m too impatient to come back and get the better thing later. I’d rather break weapons by fighting enemies and gathering resources instead of letting them poof. You will also get the most mileage out of your gear by using it appropriately. Instead of running into monster camps and breaking all your swords and spears on tough enemies, take some of them out with bow headshots. Instead of trying to melee certain enemies, use shield parries to deflect their projectiles and kill them. And don’t use your claymores to smash ore. One last aspect of the durability system is to learn where certain weapons spawn, providing you with an endless supply. For instance, there will always be Iron Sledgehammers leaning against Link’s house in Hateno and a Silver Longsword behind the Ne’ez Yohma shrine in Zora’s Domain.

4: Save Guardian gear for Guardians Guardian gear is most effective against the various types of Guardians loitering around Hyrule. After passing some Minor or Moderate Tests of Strength, hang onto those weapons for Guardian Scouts you’ll encounter in certain shrines, Decayed Guardians posted around certain areas, and Guardian Stalkers which yield the highest amount of ancient materials. You can use Guardian gear against regular monsters, but it’s not as efficient. Shock Arrows are also effective against Guardians if you need something in a pinch.

5: Ignore Yiga Footsoldiers If you see random people on the side of the main roads in Hyrule either whimpering or standing around like creeps, they turn out to be Yiga assassins 99% of the time. I personally find them annoying so I just ignore them. They won’t pursue you unlike the archers and blademasters that poof in to disrupt your questing later on.

6: Use Dragonbone Moblin Clubs to defeat Taluses Dragonbone Moblin Clubs are highly effective and extremely common two-handed weapons that work well for dispatching Taluses in the early stages of the game. The easiest way to get these clubs is to run around at night and wait for Stalmoblins to pop out of the ground; they are commonly found in the Gerudo mountains. It should be noted that these clubs aren’t as effective against Igneo Taluses due to catching on fire. But Frost and Stone Taluses of the plain, rare, and luminous ore varieties will fall quickly beneath the might of the Dragonbone Moblin Club, especially if you hold a charge attack after climbing onto them. It should also be noted that Boulder Breaker is actually the best weapon in the game for farming ore from Taluses, so you can just use that after you get it. I still hang onto Spiked and Dragonbone Moblin Clubs for smashing regular ore if my sledgehammers break.

7: Do not fear Hinoxes, Moldugas, and Lynels These are the three most intimidating monsters in the game, but engaging them is entirely optional. You can hear Hinoxes snoring from a mile away so they’re easy to stroll past or ignore altogether. After a certain heart count they’ll almost always have boosted weapons around their necks, usually Royal gear, and there are three methods for gathering them. You can sneak onto their hand and wait for them to drop you onto their belly, then nab the weapons and carefully jump off. You can engage them, shoot them in the eye once, and grab the weapons while they’re sitting on the ground before running away. Or you can just kill them which is easy if you have Urbosa’s Fury and hold a charge attack with any two-handed weapon. This method will even kill red and blue Hinoxes in one go with a strong Royal Claymore! Moldugas only spawn in specific areas of the Gerudo Desert and you can see their sand ripples from far away, so you can give them a wide berth if you want. But they’re worth engaging for the good weapons in their treasure chests. Again, the best method for defeating them is to use a strong two-handed weapon (Royal Claymores are my personal favorite for their abundance and high durability), hold a charge attack, and make sure Urbosa’s Fury is active. Lynels are obnoxious to fight due to how much they dick around. The key to defeating them is to master perfect dodging because their attack patterns are extremely predictable. Use a combination of high durability and high damage one-handed weapons, such as Royal Broadswords and Lizal Tri-Boomerangs, paired with strong shields. Always try to swoop in on Lynels with the Paraglider from a high point because if they spot you from afar they’ll shoot you with elemental arrows. Speaking of which, Lynels are immune to elemental arrows and weapons so don’t waste them. Just go toe to hoof and have good reaction time.

8: Learn the best locations for farming resources After five playthroughs I’m still working on this one, but here are some tips I can share. Razorshrooms and Zapshrooms are commonly found all over Akkala. Rhino beetles are best gathered in Faron. Equip the Sheikah set, start in Lurelin Village, and run along the beach checking palm trees along the way. Hearty Lizards are also commonly found in Faron. For gathering Rushrooms with minimal climbing, stay in Necluda. Naydra Snowfield yields more Chillshrooms than you’ll know what to do with. To get Gourmet Meat either to sell to Trott or make expensive kebabs, hunt Tabantha Moose and Great Horned Rhinoceros in Hebra; wolves and coyotes tend to yield Prime Meat. Avoid bears because they’re jerks. If you’re in need of the three varieties of Safflina, you can’t do better than farming the Ruins and Great Fairy Fountain of Gerudo. Lastly, if you want a lot of ore for upgrading clothes or selling to get rich, turn on your Sheikah Sensor in Eldin. Of course I wouldn’t leave out the dragons. Farming parts from them can be frustrating because of the elements that hurt you, but you need horn shards for upgrading the Champion’s Tunic. It is easiest to fly at them head-on and use either a Golden or Phrenic Bow, or the Ancient Bow since it shoots straight, then stay in the updraft so you can see where the part lands. In my experience, the best spot for Farosh is on Floria Bridge in Faron. Hylia Bridge and the Gerudo Summit are good second and third areas. The best spot for Dinraal is Tabantha Great Bridge; the second best is near the Eldin Great Skeleton. Climb one of the rock spikes along the edge of the map or up the mountain to catch an updraft and shoot him. My favorite spot to farm Naydra is in Lanayru Promenade. Climb up either of the dilapidated sides and wait for her to come down. You might also catch her while gliding southeast from Vah Ruta.

9: Explore one region at a time I started doing this during my most recent playthrough. Previously I would go around activating each tower as soon as possible to fill in the map, but exploring each area as I reveal it has led to some fun discoveries, like a big stash of gear just north of the Gerudo tower, and certain side quests I’d never done before such as A Parent’s Love. Methodical searching is also the best way to find Korok seeds if you don’t want to use a guide. There are so many secrets in Hyrule that you’ll definitely miss stuff when you have the whole map laid out before you, so consider exploring one region at a time!

10: Try the Expansion Pass content Master Mode is probably the best offering from both DLCs. It does ramp up the difficulty to a certain degree and is worth a full playthrough even though the base game stays the same. There are no red enemies, you start facing off against the blue versions of each monster type. In addition to black and silver, you will fight golden enemies which are quite tough. Monsters also regenerate health which can be frustrating. However, there are way more and better weapons to be found! Floating alongside most bridges and waterfalls will be Bokoblins and Lizalfos guarding treasure chests. Master Mode also gives you much more rare ore. The Champion’s Ballad is enjoyable and has three main parts. First, you run around with the One Hit Obliterator and if the name of that weapon doesn’t sell you, then don’t buy the content. Second, the shrines you must beat to complete each champion song are difficult, good for anyone who complained about a lack of a challenge. Third, the final dungeon is like a fifth Divine Beast and the boss fight is kind of easy compared to everything you had to do to get to that point. But the Master Cycle is worth it. Think “steampunk unicorn dirt bike” and if you have no desire to drive Link around Hyrule on such a vehicle, then you are playing the wrong video game. I can’t talk about the Master Trials since I have yet to complete it, but I loved going on a treasure hunt for all of the EX armors, the Royal Guard uniform being the best. They can’t be upgraded, though, which is a bit disappointing.

Was this post helpful to you? Am I completely wrong about something? Do you have anything to add? Feel free to reblog with your own hints and tips! And let’s all hope that Breath of the Wild 2 measures up to the awesomeness of the first game!

[pengiesama]

The Snow Prince (Fic, TOZ, Sorey/Mikleo, Fairy Tale AU)

Title: The Snow Prince Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo

Summary: Upon a beautiful day in late summer, Mikleo's heart is frozen by a terrible curse, and he is spirited away by a woman in dazzling winter white. Sorey sets out on a journey to save his one true love, and winds up making friends with half the continent along the way.

(A variation on The Snow Queen, written for the 2018 Chocomint Fairy Tale Compilation. With illustrations by Nami/defragmentise/@shamingcows!)

Link: AO3

This was written for the 2018 Chocomint Fairy Tale Compilation. @chocomint-srmk is a Sorey/Mikleo fan project!

The zine’s purchase period is now over, but you can check out some of the other fic and art from the zine in the links below. You might start seeing more of the Fairy Tale pieces go up now that the exclusivity period has ended!

Chocomint’s Tumblr: https://chocomint-srmk.tumblr.com/ Chocomint’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/chocomint_srmk

Read on Tumblr!

Once upon a time, there was a mirror, and the mirror came with a most terrible curse.

The mirror did not reflect, it only distorted. Even the loveliest of landscapes would show as a barren wasteland in its glass. A delicious feast would be shown as rotted, stinking refuse. Art that should properly stir the heart with exquisiteness would be transformed into something repulsive. It turned beauty to disgust, love to disdain. The stronger the feeling, the greater the deformation.

What kind of being would craft such a wretched artifact?

It was the work of a terrible spirit known as Symonne.

Symonne loathed the world and everything in it; from flora to fauna to humans and her fellow spirits. One can presume a fairly tragic event that caused her seething hatred, but her resulting behavior did not inspire sympathy. She was cruel and merciless, and tormented all living creatures that crossed her path, regardless of whether they had done a thing to deserve her ire. But this did not satisfy her thirst for terror, and she set her sights higher – most high. Symonne’s spirit magic allowed her to craft powerful illusions, and with this skill in her arsenal, she set forth in crafting her awful mirror. She poured every ounce of her magic into the mirror, and planned to carry it to the throne of Maotelus, the king of the spirits, to force him to look into its glass and behold the truth of his form.

However, the crafting of the mirror had exhausted Symonne’s strength, and while carrying the terrible thing to the heavenly palace, she dropped it. The mirror shattered into a thousand tiny shards, and the thousand tiny shards flew over the world to lodge in the hearts of humans. Symonne was furious, but when her raging calmed, she realized that this presented an altogether wonderful opportunity to terrorize the world that wronged her – on a scale that she had never achieved before.

This is what brings us to the matter of Sorey and Mikleo.

These two boys were friends from the cradle, and played and grew and learned together. Their hearts were as one, and their love for each other was a simple truth of the world – like the movement of the stars, or birdsong in the morning. This made them a perfect target of the wretched mirror, as it was an artifact that craved the distortion of everything right and true in the world. If it could destroy the love between these two kindred souls, it could surely shake the very foundations of the world.

Sorey and Mikleo were adventurers and scholars, and adored all things archaeological and natural, all things great and small, just as much as they adored each other. They would often race each other on the dirt-and-cobblestone path from their tiny town to the ruined castle in the nearby forest. This ancient stone castle was a beloved play spot of theirs, and over the years, they continued to explore and examine and study its crumbling walls and aging artwork. Sunlight shone through the cracks in the ceiling, and rainwater pooled in the ruined floors; blanketing the ground with a soft cushion of moss to nap and read upon. The very walls echoed with the sounds of their laughter and the warmth of their love.

One fateful day, Sorey and Mikleo were walking the path to their castle, with packs full of notebooks and sketchpads on their backs, and a picnic basket in Mikleo’s hand. It should have been a wonderful afternoon, full of happiness and joy. But a glint from the sky and a terrible whistling noise heralded the arrival of a mirror shard. The shard was thin and crystalline; too fine to be seen by the naked eye, and too sharp to be felt even as it pierced the skin. The shard pierced Mikleo’s chest, and his heart.

Mikleo fell to the ground, causing their picnic lunch to spill over the path. Sorey was at his side in less than a moment, carefully helping him to his feet and dusting the dirt from his clothing. Sorey’s own heart ached with sympathy at Mikleo’s bloody palms; scratched and cut from his tumble.

“Mikleo, are you okay?” asked Sorey. “Did you trip?”

Mikleo looked around them, at the apples and prepared sandwiches and treats that he had so carefully packed for their afternoon trip. His lip curled in revulsion.

“It’s okay,” Sorey assured him. “Five second rule, right? We can just pick out the grass and--”

Mikleo’s gaze finally fell on Sorey, and Sorey could hardly understand the disgust he saw there. Mikleo shoved Sorey’s comforting arms away, and stumbled backward, shaking his head.

“…Mikleo?” Sorey said quietly. He reached out to him, still. “Are you hurt? The castle still has the supplies we stashed there, let’s go in and get you bandaged up--”

“And just why,” Mikleo said with annoyance clear in his voice. “Would I want to traipse through that crumbling wreck with you?”

“Because it’s…fun?” Sorey offered helplessly.

Mikleo rolled his eyes and wandered off in a random direction, scowling at everything around him. Sorey scrambled after him.

“Mikleo! That’s not the way back to town--”

“I know,” Mikleo said irritably. He yanked his arm out of Sorey’s gentle grip. “Why would I want to go back?”

“Because…” Sorey grasped for words to try and describe the obvious. Why wouldn’t he? “Our families are there. And…and the harvest festival will be on soon, and then the merchants from the city will probably be by and we can buy more books with the money we’ve been saving up…”

Mikleo just shook his head at every word out of Sorey’s mouth, as it the very sound of his voice repulsed him. Sorey was at a loss. They’d fought before, but Mikleo wasn’t like this when he was upset with him. This was something different. Something terrible, and something that Sorey had no idea how to handle.

“…if you don’t want to go back to town, where do you want to go?” asked Sorey, finally. He would go with him, if Mikleo wanted to leave. He’d follow him anywhere. “Please. If you want to leave, let’s treat your hands, first, and get some supplies and money from home before we--”

“‘We’?” Mikleo repeated coldly. Blood dripped freely from the scrapes and cuts on his hands; dripped from his fingers to the grass beneath his feet. It looked so painful, and Sorey’s heart ached at the sight.

“Your hands,” Sorey said. “Can you at least let me help with them?”

Slowly, Mikleo looked to his sides. His arms were slack, and he seemed to be observing the sight of the blood with the same detached disgust as he now regarded everything else. He did not resist as Sorey touched his shoulder to guide him into the ruined castle; their special place. He did not resist.

The castle, their little home-away in the forest, was well-stocked with supplies that they had carried in from town over the years: food, medicine and bandages, blankets, and books. All things necessary for a happy home. Sorey washed and tended to Mikleo’s wounds, and was pained himself at his cruel silence. The water was fresh and clean, but it surely would sting such raw and deep cuts. Were the bandages too tight? Mikleo did not respond when asked. He did not even spare Sorey the flushing of his cheeks when Sorey leaned down to kiss his freshly-bandaged palms. He would only stare into the distance; his disdain such that he would not even look at the things that repulsed him so. Sorey despaired.

The supplies in their special place kept them in comfort for that night – Sorey did not dare to bring up the subject of heading back to town, lest Mikleo try to wander off by himself once more. However, before the morning sun broke the horizon, while there was still dew on the grass, Sorey awoke to a commotion outside. Panicked, he looked beside him – to find nothing. Mikleo was gone.

Sorey raced outside, to find a frozen world of dazzling white.

It was early autumn still, and the heat of summer still thrummed in the soil. It was far too early for frost in the mornings, or for Sorey to see his own heaving breath. But there it was – frozen grass, and puffs of mist, and a grand silver-white sleigh pulled by a team of silver-white reindeer. A woman in a snowflake crown and white robes was helping Mikleo up into the sleigh. Mikleo’s chestnut-brown hair had become frosted with white. It shimmered in the first rays of the morning.

“Mikleo!” Sorey called out, racing forward. “Mikleo, wait! Wherever you’re going, please, let me come with you--”

The woman turned her attention to Sorey as she settled in the front seat of the sleigh and picked up the reins. Hers was an expression of great pity, and with a wave of her hand, she summoned a herd of little snowflake-capped creatures to block Sorey’s path. Mikleo’s expression was completely blank as he quietly settled himself to lie down on the back seat of the sleigh – Sorey would have preferred his previous cruel disdain. He did not appear to hear Sorey at all, no matter how Sorey screamed his name.

The woman in white stole Mikleo away, and left behind a remnant of winter. Sorey wanted to race after the sleigh, but was stopped by the little creatures that surrounded him.

“Whoa there! Easy, buddy,” said one. “Don’t worry about your friend. Lailah will take good care of him.”

“Where did she take him!?” Sorey demanded, tears stinging his eyes. “Please, tell me – he’s hurt, and barely ate anything last night, and--”

“He’s hurt more than you know,” said another of the little creatures, solemnly. “Mistress Lailah has taken him in, and will do what she can to save him.”

Sorey’s stomach dropped out. “What happened to him? Please, tell me…”

The creatures murmured amongst themselves for a moment, peeping over their shoulders to make sure Sorey wasn’t eavesdropping. After their discussion, one of the creatures stepped forward to speak.

“A terrible curse is spreading throughout the world, and your friend was unlucky enough to get hit by it,” the creature said. “It’s a curse that…makes people hate everything good and beautiful in the world. Makes them cruel to the people they love. Miss Lailah’s been charged by Lord Maotelus to gather up the people who’ve been cursed, and take them away to try and break the curse before…”

The creature trailed off.

“Before what?” Sorey asked quietly.

But the creature was silent. The whole troupe of them joined hands in a circle, and began to dance. The summer snow swirled and blew into the air, blocking them from sight. When the air cleared, they were nowhere to be seen. Sorey rushed forward in a panic, and begged the empty clearing for answers.

“Please! Please, I’m begging you, tell me where she took him! I can help save him, I know I can!”

An answer rang out from the trees:

“Seek the mountains beyond Meirchio. Your Snow Prince awaits you there.”

And after that, there was silence.

Meirchio was the northernmost city of the land. Beyond it, there was nothing but impenetrable mountains and frozen lands. But if Mikleo had been spirited away there, if Mikleo’s life was in the balance, there was no other possible trajectory.

The compass of Sorey’s heart was pointing north, and he would follow it to the ends of the earth for Mikleo’s sake.

Sorey set out on his quest from his tiny home village that very evening, loaded with what supplies the town could spare, and the tears and well-wishes of his own family and Mikleo’s.

His mother provided him with warm-weather clothes: a scarf, thick gloves, and a warm woolen travelling cloak, with wool from their family’s own sheep. The love woven into it would surely keep the cold at bay, even in the forgotten, distant mountains beyond Meirchio.

Mikleo’s mother provided him with the money she had been keeping safe for them: the money that Sorey and Mikleo had been saving for the harvest festival that autumn. It pained Sorey to take it without Mikleo’s permission, just as it pained him to use it on fares and inn stays instead of the books and gadgets that he and Mikleo had dreamed and talked about all year. But coin was a necessary thing, when it came to the matter of adventuring and rescue.

And Mikleo’s uncle provided him with the gift of knowledge: a copy of his beloved encyclopedia, filled with maps, wisdom, and countless fond memories. Turning its pages, Sorey could recall any number of nights where it was just him and Mikleo under the covers; just them, a candle, and this book. They would read about the wide world beyond town and whisper and dream until dawn; curled around each other, two hearts as one.

Meirchio was a far trek, and it took Sorey a few nights’ worth of camping under the stars before he stumbled onto the first roadblock of his quest. The thicket of trees had looked like a lovely spot to settle in for the evening, and Sorey had done just that. However, when he was lighting a fire atop a pile of gathered sticks and fallen leaves, he heard a sneeze from the surrounding trees. He looked up to see a small girl there; bedecked in spring flowers and lace, and sporting a miserable scowl as she shivered. While it should have still been summer, ever since Sorey saw that mysterious woman and her sleigh, ever since Mikleo was stolen away, the weather had been…strange. Winter seemed to be seeping into everything overnight, and was becoming keener with each passing day. Sorey was warm in his cloak and scarf and gloves, but his guest was clearly suffering.

Sorey smiled and beckoned her close to the fire.

“Are you cold, miss? Please, come sit by the fire and I’ll make you a hot drink.”

The girl snorted, then sneezed again.

“C-c-cold? W-why would I want to accept drinks from a t-t-trespasser—ACHOO!”

Sorey blinked, then looked abashed.

“I’m so sorry. There are no towns or farms anywhere nearby – I thought this was un-owned land. I’m but a traveler, passing through on a mission to save someone I love. Please let me stay on your land for the evening.”

The girl, despite her scowl and dismissive words, had bundled herself up to the fire to get warm. She glared at Sorey, then huffed through her nose.

“You may address me as Lady Edna, human. And where is the drink you promised?”

Sorey prepared hot tea for his host, and presented it with a smile.

“Here you are. Lady Edna, are you a spirit? Have you heard any gossip of a mysterious woman stealing people away in her sleigh? Or word of what is causing this strange weather?”

“Yes to all three,” Edna said, snatching up the tea and warming her hands around it. Her shivering began to ease, which gladdened Sorey’s heart. “I suppose you want me to spill the beans on it, though.”

“If you have any information, any at all, please tell me,” Sorey said. “I have to find Mikleo before it’s too late. I’ll do anything.”

Edna eyed his warm clothing.

“…give me that scarf of yours. The gloves, too.”

“Of course,” said Sorey, already winding it from his neck.

Edna arched an eyebrow. “That’s it? Honestly. I was hoping for something more dramatic.”

Sorey blinked as he held out the scarf and gloves to her. “Hmm?”

“Normally when I make a trade with humans, there’s a lot more haggling involved. You could’ve argued me down to just the scarf, you know.”

Sorey tilted his head to the side, confused. “…but you’re cold, and need it more than I do.”

Edna eyed him suspiciously, and huffed again as she snatched up the offerings and put them on.

“Whatever. Don’t come crying to me when your fingers fall off in this weather.”

Edna took a deep drink of her tea, cleared her throat, and began to explain.

“That woman in the sleigh is Lailah, a spirit. She serves the Great Spirit, Maotelus, and does his dirty work for him. If she stole away your little boyfriend, then he was probably collateral damage in some drama at the big palace upstairs. Said drama is probably also to blame for this weather.”

Sorey’s heart twisted in worry. “Her little creatures said to go to the mountains beyond Meirchio to find Mikleo. Do you know what I’ll find there?”

Edna shook her cup at him, wordlessly demanding more tea before she spoke. Sorey obliged.

“The Killaraus Mountains. Home to a dazzling array of absolutely nothing at all. It used to be the seat of the heavenly palace until they moved it to somewhere more hospitable, so Lailah and her irritating little normins might have your boyfriend locked up in the old ruins somewhere.”

Sorey smiled happily and bowed low to Edna in thanks. He had so much more to go on now – he had evidence that Mikleo was being taken care of, and would remain so until Sorey reached him. It renewed his hope that he’d be able to reach Mikleo and save him.

“Aren’t you going to beg me to teleport you there with a snap of my fingers?” Edna drawled. “Whine at me for a map? Try to threaten more information out of me?”

“Do you have a map? Or – the finger thing?” asked Sorey, curiously.

“No,” Edna said. “But I don’t know what you humans think we’re capable of, anymore. I know what your kind is capable of, though, so you’ll excuse me if I keep some information to myself.”

Sorey nodded in understanding. He bundled his cloak tightly around himself – he was already feeling the chill from the loss of his scarf and gloves. His money was carefully rationed, but perhaps he could find some inexpensive replacements when he next encountered a town. He knew he was careless, and foolish, but he was not so inexperienced to run full-tilt into the icy mountains without protection.

He was quite tired, and his eyes were heavy. He closed them, just for a moment; just so he could conjure up the image of Mikleo’s sparkling eyes and smiling mouth beyond his lids.

“Sorey,” dream-Mikleo laughed as Sorey buried his face in his neck. He smelled so sweet; like the dampness of the soil at the start of spring. “I swear. What am I going to do with you?”

“Do with me what you will,” said Sorey. “You’ll never get rid of me.”

Mikleo’s smile went so soft, then, and Sorey’s heart soared.

“Is that a promise?” Mikleo asked.

“A promise.”

Mikleo’s lips, too, were very soft.

When he opened them again, it was morning, and the fire was nothing but embers. Edna was gone, and there was little more to be done than to pack his things and keep heading north.

Sorey noticed the root vegetables and apples that had not been in his pack before. He also noticed a small, perfect yellow bloom. He thought upon these gifts as he continued to travel another three days, then another three days after that, until he reached the outskirts of a harbor town. He would have to buy passage on a ship headed to Meirchio – Sorey suspected such a vessel might be difficult to come by. Meirchio was a distant, quiet town, and was certainly not a hot tourist spot or business destination. He would potentially have to wait weeks for a vessel to have business going there; camping outside the town the whole while in the freezing cold, with dwindling supplies.

One day, after a week of asking at the docks for any vessels headed to Meirchio – after a week of sailors laughing in his face, acting like Sorey was asking them to ferry him to the moon – he came across a ship he had not seen make port before. It was a small but stout vessel; clever-looking, even. Sorey spotted a red-haired woman on its deck, inspecting a shipping list, and shouted for her attention.

“Hey! Are you guys headed to Meirchio?”

The woman eyed Sorey and his ragged countenance with an amused expression.

“Meirchio? That dinky little mining town? Who’s asking?”

Sorey bowed deeply, and let his desperation show clear on his face. Though he likely looked desperate enough already – the cold nights of camping were taking their toll.

“My name is Sorey, and I have to get to Meirchio as soon as I can. Please. I’ll pay you everything I have, I’ll work your ship during the passage. Anything you ask.”

The woman put her hand on her hip and looked Sorey up and down. He lowered his head.

“I know it doesn’t look like I have much,” Sorey admitted. He looked an utter mess – he was filthy, and his clothes were wrinkled from days of travel on the roads. His hair was wild and windblown. Dark circles bloomed under his eyes – a good night’s sleep was hard to come by, sleeping on the ground. His bare hands were stiff and aching from the cold; the inclement weather having skyrocketed cold-weather gear to a price he simply couldn’t afford. “I’m but a traveler, passing through on a mission to save someone I love. I have to get to Meirchio to find Mikleo before it’s too late.”

Sorey dug in his pockets to present the woman with his travelling funds – the money he and Mikleo had saved up all year, through chores and hard work.

“All I have is yours. Including an extra pair of hands on your crew.”

The woman traipsed down the plank to the dock, and took Sorey’s money pouch from him to count it out.

“…it’s not really enough to make me consider deviating from our delivery schedule,” she said.

Sorey’s heart dropped. But then, the woman was twirling the flower Edna had given him between her fingers, examining it with great interest.

“But this herb here more than makes up for the difference. A single petal from this thing sells for a cool mint in the spice market. If you’re willing to trade it, I’ll be more than happy to put my deliveries on hold to shuttle you to that frozen wasteland.”

Sorey gave an excited shout, and bowed deeply from his waist.

“Thank you, thank you so much--”

“But if you’re coming on my ship, you’re gonna need to clean up first,” the woman said firmly.

Sorey’s cheeks flushed, and he scratched at his wild hair in embarrassment. The woman tossed the coin pouch back to him.

“Go to the inn with the green sign on the main road, and tell them that the Sparrowfeathers sent you. You’ve got enough in there for a hot bath and a good meal. And believe me, if you’re going to Meirchio, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

Sorey bowed again in thanks, then turned and headed down the road. The woman called after him again.

“The name’s Rose, by the way. And your flower is back in your pouch – were you just going to leave it with me while you ran off to blow all your money at the inn?”

Sorey blinked in confusion. “…Yes? You wanted it as payment, after all…”

Rose snorted. “And you were just gonna trust me to not run off with it? You barely know me.”

Sorey smiled a sweet, self-conscious smile. “I guess I don’t. But you seem like a good, trustworthy person to me.”

Rose laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “Go and get washed up, and make sure you keep that herb safe. We leave at sundown.”

Sorey dutifully parted with the money required for a bath – he knew Mikleo would never let him hear the end of it if he showed up to rescue him looking like this, after all. However, though his stomach growled at the thought of hot stew and warm meat, he saved the remainder of his coin for the trials that surely awaited him in Meirchio.

As his freshly-washed clothing dried next to the fireplace, Sorey brushed his fingers over the illustrations in their beloved encyclopedia. Just as its knowledge of edible plants and berries had kept him fed over his journey, just as its maps had kept him on the right path, the memories of reading this book with Mikleo kept his heart and spirit strong. Sorey’s eyes fell on his own stiff, frozen fingers as they turned the page. They were a sorry sight in comparison to the memory of Mikleo’s beautiful hands.

“So to the capital first,” Sorey said in the haze of his dreams. “We’ll check out the libraries and architecture, and then heading south, we’ll be on the pilgrim’s path, so there’ll be plenty of roadside shrines to examine--”

Mikleo laughed. What a beautiful sound, even as a memory!

“You say that as if you’d ever be finished ‘checking things out’ in Pendrago,” he chided. “I know you could happily set up camp in a library for a year. Or a lifetime.”

“A lifetime?” Sorey teased. Head on Mikleo’s lap, he buried his face in Mikleo’s thigh, making Mikleo squeak. “Only if you’re there too.”

Luckily, Sorey awoke from his fevered sleep with time enough to get down to the docks and Rose’s ship. He handed over the herb, and she was true to her word – they set sail for Meirchio.

It was a journey made longer and all the more difficult with the terrible weather; that grew only more terrible as they approached Meirchio. It was proof enough to Sorey that they were approaching where Mikleo was being held, and it was enough to make Sorey pace the deck anxiously as the ship slowly wove its way through the icy waters. Sorey hoped Mikleo would forgive him for being late, just as he hoped Mikleo would forgive him for spending their money, and losing his clothing in this weather. Mikleo had always fussed over his health, ever since his sickly childhood. Sorey hated making him worry, but he seemed rather incapable of not doing so, all the same.

They arrived in Meirchio, and Rose called to him as Sorey made his way into the town proper from the docks.

“Hey! If you’re looking for info, you’re going to have the best luck chatting up the miners at the tavern.”

“Thanks!” Sorey said cheerfully, waving farewell to her. “I will. Mikleo and I owe you so much, Rose.”

Rose watched him go, and quietly said a prayer aloud for his safety. He was a clueless young idiot, and needed all the help he could get – lucky for him, that smile of his could melt the heart of damn near anyone, Rose would bet. It was like the light of spring. Or something cheesy like that. She sighed and wondered if Sorey would question why there was more money in that coin pouch of his than he remembered, and hoped that he wouldn’t get scammed out of all of it anyway at the tavern.

Rose’s prayer did not go unheard, for unbeknownst to her, there was a young wind spirit accompanying her ship. This wind spirit was named Dezel, and, being a spirit, was bound by ceaseless compulsion to grant the prayers asked of him. Heaving a sigh, he trudged unseen by all along the roads after Sorey, irritably sending out gusts of wind to knock over suspicious-looking individuals who were eyeing Sorey like a walking target. The town was not wealthy to begin with, and the cold weather had made people all the more desperate. With Dezel’s assistance, Sorey made it safely to the tavern. Cheerfully, Sorey turned and opened the door for Dezel to enter after him.

Dezel paused. “…you can see me?”

Sorey smiled. “Of course. You’re Rose’s friend, right? I saw you on the ship on the journey here. Did you want a drink before you headed back out?”

Dezel sighed and entered the tavern wordlessly. He could understand why Rose was so concerned about this idiot’s safety, and maybe even understand why she was fond of him. Maybe. A little.

As they entered, they overlooked a sea of dour-faced miners. Sorey didn’t really know where to start asking for information – the bartender was likely a good start, in any case. Sorey walked up to the bar (Dezel following him, still unseen by most) and sat down stiffly. The bartender raised an eyebrow at him and waited for him to speak.

“Do you. Um. Know anything about a lady in a white sleigh? Or a palace in the mountains?”

The bartender wordlessly polished a glass. Sorey fumbled out his coin pouch and carefully counted out a few coins – what, exactly, was a good payment for information?

“Less than that,” Dezel hissed in his ear. “You don’t know if this chump knows a damn thing.”

Still, the coins that Sorey offered seemed to make the bartender more willing to talk. He hummed, as if deep in thought.

“A lady, not so much. But I’ve heard talk about a white sleigh, being driven by a lad with white hair. Dressed like a prince. Sightings started ramping up when this damn weather rolled in, and people constantly whisper about seeing that sleigh when the worst storms roll in. As for your mountain palace, that’s just a fairy tale. If you’re planning on heading into the mountains to go looking for some palace, or that snow prince, may the gods have mercy on you.”

“Is there anyone who knows anything about the palace? Anyone at all?” Sorey asked. He held up his pouch. “I have money, and…”

Sorey heard someone whistling for him nearby, and swiveled his head. A man sat in a corner, and beckoned him near. Sorey nodded his thanks to the bartender, and moved to where the man was sitting.

“Lookin’ for the old palace in the mountains, eh?” said the man. “Has that snow prince stolen your heart away?”

“I – well, maybe,” Sorey said. “You see, my friend Mikleo was stolen away by a woman in a sleigh, and his hair had turned white when she got to him, and he’s so beautiful that anyone would think he’s a prince, so I thought that it’s possible that--”

“He’s a spirit, you know,” Dezel interrupted, gesturing with his chin to the man Sorey was speaking to. “A wind spirit, like me. He’s probably just looking for juicy gossip, and doesn’t have a damn relevant thing to tell us.”

The man clutched at his chest dramatically. “You wound me, my brother-in-elements!”

Sorey hummed thoughtfully. “I figured he was a spirit,” he said. “I’ve always been able to sense them, even when others couldn’t. But I thought a spirit would know better than anyone where the old heavenly palace is in the mountains. Especially a spirit that looks as old as him.”

The man looked far more legitimately heartbroken at that comment. “Really? Do I look old? Is it my hairline? It’s my hairline, isn’t it…”

He patted at his hairline mournfully.

“No, it’s just that you have a certain…air around you,” Sorey said. “An air of worldliness?”

It wasn’t a lie, but it was also kind of the hairline. Still, the man puffed up a little at the compliment.

“The name is Zaveid,” he said with a little flourish of his hand. “And I too have had my heart stolen away by someone driving that sleigh. Her name is the Lady Lailah, and she has had to freeze her fire on the order of the Mao-Man to clean up after some heavenly politics.”

“Politics?” Sorey asked. “Please, tell me whatever you can – I have to save a person I love, and his life might depend on your knowledge.”

Dezel sighed in irritation. Sorey didn’t even need his help to make this Zaveid character talk – there was nothing wind spirits loved more than drama and gossip. (Except Dezel. Dezel was proud to Not Be Like Other Wind Spirits. He was entirely and perfectly undramatic.) Zaveid’s eyes sparkled with tears.

“A romantic rescue…” Zaveid whispered mistily. “You see, there’s this spirit named Symonne who’s a real piece of work. She’s got it out for Mao-Man, and made some crazy cursed mirror to make him think he’s ugly or some shit, I dunno what her endgame was. But she accidentally smashed the thing in the process, and all those little mirror shards flew across the world. They pierce people’s hearts, and suddenly, they’re not who they were anymore – full of hate for everything they once held dear.”

Mikleo’s strange behavior before he was kidnapped made sense now, but the knowing was almost worse than the mystery. Sorey swallowed hard, his heart beating in his ears.

“How can they be fixed?” Sorey asked quietly.

Zaveid shook his head sadly. “That’s something Mao-Man is still trying to work out. In the meantime, he’s having Lailah head out and spirit away the victims and keep them in the palace on the mountain. If she stole your man, he’s there.”

And that was enough for Sorey. He stood up and bowed to Zaveid.

“Please. Lead me to the heavenly palace,” he begged.

Zaveid blinked at him. “…why don’t you ask your other spirit buddy there?”

“I’m not his to ask,” Dezel shot back. “And I wouldn’t do it anyway. I’m not venturing that far away from Rose.”

Zaveid nodded sagely. “We are all slaves to love, I see.”

Dezel sputtered. Sorey bowed deeper.

“Please, spirit; Lord Zaveid. I’m so close to finding Mikleo again – I just need someone to lead the way. Won’t you please grant me your assistance?”

Zaveid grimaced and leaned forward, waiting for Sorey to look him in the eye.

“Leading someone to the heavenly palace is no small thing to ask,” he explained. “Even though the big cheeses have since moved house, the enchantments are still there on the old place. You’ll need to give up something incredibly dear for me to even be able to help.”

Sorey had gotten used to giving things up on this journey. But he had so little left – and he knew that Zaveid wasn’t talking about the few coins he had left in his pouch. Sorey took out his and Mikleo’s beloved encyclopedia, and touched the cover with aching fingers and an aching heart. It was a precious memento. The notes they had made in the margins, the memories in the pages, were irreplaceable.

But what was more precious and irreplaceable was Mikleo himself.

Sorey bowed again, and offered the book to Zaveid.

“Please, spirit. Lord Zaveid. I’m but a traveler, on a mission to save someone I love. Won’t you please grant me your assistance?”

Zaveid accepted the book, and tucked it into his pack.

“It ain’t gonna be easy. Let’s set out while the sun’s still high.”

They parted ways with Dezel, who quickly beat a retreat back to Rose’s ship, and set out from Meirchio into the barren snowfields and towering mountains beyond.

Zaveid spoke true – the road to the palace through the mountains was difficult indeed, even with the assistance of a wind spirit at Sorey’s back. The weather made their way all the more treacherous. The snow weighed down Sorey’s cloak, freezing the fabric and making the cold bite through deep into his bones. Even tucked firmly under his arms for warmth, his bare fingers felt numb and useless. Sorey truly did not know if he could make it through. He kept the memory of Mikleo close to his heart, a gentle warmth that prevented him from freezing all the way through.

“Sorey! Buddy! Eyes up ahead!”

Sorey squinted through the blowing snow, and thought he saw the outline of a structure. Zaveid shoved him forward, and guided him to what looked like a chasm standing between them and the palace. Zaveid whistled aloud, and the chasm glowed with white light. A beautifully-designed bridge appeared to shuttle them across – Sorey would have loved to examine it closer were it not for his duty to Mikleo, and his imminent death in staying outside a moment longer. He and Zaveid hurried across, and Zaveid grabbed him by the hand, dragging him along through the strange glassy doors with their intricate silver filigree work. Through them – as if they were passing through mist.

Sorey had not known what, exactly, to expect when he found where Mikleo was being held. Perhaps maybe Mikleo, chained to a wall, swooning sweetly into his arms. Perhaps that was a bit too much. But what he did not expect was a receiving-hall filled with frozen statues. Sorey wandered up to one, and to his great dismay, he found that these statues were not statues at all.

“Zaveid! These are – these are humans! Frozen humans!”

Zaveid was examining a few of the statues himself, with a grim expression.

“This was their solution to the mirror problem, huh…” Zaveid murmured.

Sorey dashed from statue to statue, trying to find one that was still alive, dreading finding one wearing Mikleo’s face.

“Solution? What do you--”

One statue’s eyes stared back at him, listlessly. Sorey nearly jumped out of his skin, but calmed himself enough to take action. He loosened his cloak, as if to drape it around the frozen person – as if they had any warmth left to keep in.

“Sorey!” Zaveid yelped. “Keep your clothes on! You’ll freeze just like the rest of ‘em!”

Sorey hesitated at the thought of not being capable of saving Mikleo, but – but he couldn’t just leave this person to…to…

“Useless,” said the person in a flat, emotionless tone. The ice around their lips and neck cracked as they spoke. “Why would you sacrifice yourself so readily? Our frozen hearts are beyond saving.”

Sorey’s own too-soft, foolish heart ached. “Who did this to you? That spirit Lailah?”

“The mirror filled our hearts with hate,” said another frozen statue across the way. Their neck snapped with an awful sound as they slowly, painfully slowly, turned their head to look at Sorey. “The spirit Lailah froze our hearts before they rotted from it.”

There were so many statues. So many people. Some murmured their assent to the previous statue’s statement, but others were silent – frozen through with the silence of death. Sorey’s pulse raced, his eyes darting around the room. Not Mikleo, not there, not there either; none of these poor souls were Mikleo, so where—

The gate that Sorey and Zaveid had entered through glowed. Another guest stepped through – but truthfully, this was no guest. A trumpet blew, and snowflake-capped normins raced from every nook and cranny to form a receiving-line. The doors at the end of the receiving hall flew open, showing the throne room – and the throne, perched atop a dazzling frozen lake.

Through the front doors came that same familiar sleigh that stole Mikleo away. But instead of Lailah at the helm, it was Mikleo himself.

He was so beautiful. Mikleo was always beautiful, always, but he was simply…otherworldly. It was no wonder why there were whispers of a snow prince. Mikleo was dressed in a suit and cape fit for royalty; white and icy blue, trimmed with silver and royal navy. His high boots clacked against the marble floor as he dismounted, and his white hair glimmered in the iridescent light of the strange silver flames that lit the lanterns around the palace hall. Mikleo reached up to help his passenger off the sleigh, and led them to stand with the rest of the frozen people. The passenger went wordlessly, and stood without complaint or comment next to their new neighbors. And then Mikleo turned and walked, straight-backed, toward the throne room. He made no indication of seeing Sorey, or caring about the plight of the frozen people around him.

Mikleo was a kind and warm person, who cared deeply about the pain and suffering of those around him. What had that mirror done to him? What had that Lailah done to him?

“Mikleo!” Sorey cried out in despair. “Wait! It’s me!”

Mikleo did not turn to acknowledge Sorey’s voice, nor did he even slow down. He walked across the frozen lake confidently, without slipping a bit on the ice, and arranged himself on the throne with the same air of wordless complaint as the new arrival to the receiving hall. Sorey raced down the hall toward the doors to the throne room, his muscles aching with weeks of stress and strain, his heart aching, also—

The normins blocked his path, again. Sorey gritted his teeth and was about to just vault over their tiny heads, but one stepped forward. They raised their trumpet, and tooted another receiving flourish.

“The Lady Lailah approaches! Show some respect to your host, human.”

Sorey whirled around, trying to see where Lailah was approaching from, trying to see if he had time to grab Mikleo and run (he was sure driving that sleigh wasn’t that hard). And then, she appeared in a crackling of silver flame in the doorway to the throne room. Her expression was pained, and she extended a hand to Sorey.

“You are Sorey,” she observed. “I am Lailah, servant of the great spirit Maotelus--”

Zaveid wolf-whistled. “Lailah! My heart was about to waste away without you. Why don’t you turn those flames of yours back on to warm us up--”

Several of the normins rushed Zaveid to whack him in the shins with their trumpets, causing him to yelp and stumble back into the arms of one of the frozen people. Lailah’s cheeks were colored pink, and she coughed lightly, and started again.

“I am Lailah, servant of the great spirit Maotelus. Sorey. You have travelled so far, and touched so many hearts. Truly, you bring spring wherever you set foot.”

“What did you do to Mikleo?” Sorey demanded.

Lailah folded her hands and stared at her intertwined fingers.

“I am Maotelus’ closest servant,” she began. “And the only one who can wield even a portion of his power. Maotelus charged me with the mission of gathering those afflicted by the shards, and bringing them here for safety…and freezing their hearts so the shards do not destroy their very immortal souls. But I am a fire spirit – the taking away of heat is within my purview, but a more graceful application of the art of ice magic is…beyond me. My clumsy attempts at it have only caused more disaster – this terrible weather, for example.

“However, your friend Mikleo is possessed with a gift for magic. When I froze his heart, it awakened his latent abilities. He was able to take up my duties with far more dexterity and finesse. He has saved so many souls from eternal damnation, and once the Lord Maotelus has determined how to purify the mirror shards--”

Sorey slowly approached her as she spoke, and carefully, bones aching, went down on one knee. He bowed his head.

“Please, Lady Lailah. I’m but a traveler, on a mission to save someone I love. Won’t you please grant me an audience with the prince of this palace?”

Lailah extended a graceful, smooth hand, and Sorey accepted it with his battered, bloody one to rise to his feet again. Lailah made no indication of disgust – only pity.

“You may speak to him,” she said. “But he is unlikely to respond or recognize you for who you are. His heart is frozen through – were it not for his magic talents, he would be just as stiff as the poor souls you see here.”

That seemed like a challenge Sorey was willing to take up. Sorey would never be able to forget Mikleo – through trial and tribulation, through death and on to the ends of the earth. Sorey limped across the frozen lake; his feet not as sure on the ice as Mikleo’s, but his path just as set.

The throne room was dazzling, and an architectural marvel. Intricately-carved white marble spires twirled up to the high ceilings, which were under some strange enchantment – it showed the night sky, and an ever-moving map of the moon and constellations. These enchantments reflected onto the surface of the frozen lake, making Sorey’s path an otherworldly journey through the cosmos. The room sparkled with a sheen of ice and snow, which grew into flower-like blooms around the foot of the throne.

Mikleo did not acknowledge him as he drew closer. He did not acknowledge him as Sorey collapsed to his knees in front of the throne. He was as pale and lovely as a fine marble statue, but his eyes – those beautiful, expressive violet eyes that sparkled with love and intelligence – were so terribly blank. Sorey felt his tears freezing to his cheeks.

“Mikleo,” he said quietly. “It’s me. Sorey.”

Mikleo did not respond. Sorey continued.

“I was so worried when you got stolen away,” Sorey said. “I was worried the night before, when you were acting strangely, too. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize what had happened. You must have been in so much pain from that shard, and your hands were all scratched up on top of that, and you didn’t even eat the lunch we’d packed. Have you eaten since?”

Mikleo remained impassive.

“I wish I had more to offer. I only have some jerky left in my pack,” Sorey went on. “It’s not really a meal meant for royalty. You look even prettier than usual, Mikleo. I didn’t think either of us would have our hair going white for a few decades yet, but it really suits you. So do those clothes. Do you remember how we used to dress in our best for the village festivals? You always looked so nice in that vest and ribbon tie. I always just looked like a barn animal stuffed into a suit. Or I think that’s how you put it, once.”

Sorey flexed his battered hands, watching as fresh blood oozed from the cracked skin. He was battered, as a whole. He was dirty and ragged from travel, he was bruised and bloody and looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He was a sorry sight, compared to how stunning Mikleo looked.

“I lost my gloves and scarf on the way here,” he admitted. “And all the money we saved up for the harvest festival. And…and our encyclopedia. I’m so sorry, Mikleo. I’m…I’m so sorry…”

Sorey crumpled, and crawled forward, shuffling over to press his forehead to Mikleo’s knees.

“Mikleo,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

He wept, and wept, and wept. Perhaps if he stayed here long enough, tears frozen to his cheeks, he would become a statue like the ones in the receiving hall – a statue that crouched at the foot of the throne like a loyal dog waiting for his beloved master’s return.

He almost didn’t notice the soft touch to his ruined hands.

Mikleo examined Sorey’s hand, turning it this way and that. Sorey felt color flood his cheeks, and pouted, despite himself. He knew his hands looked terrible, but Mikleo didn’t need to rub it in. Mikleo blinked slowly, and rubbed his thumb across the dried blood on Sorey’s knuckles.

“…hurts…hurts?”

Sorey stared at him, tears beginning to fall from his eyes anew. Mikleo bent, and pressed his other hand to Sorey’s chest, over his heart.

“Hurts here. You too?”

Sorey nodded, and reached out with an aching hand to press his own palm to Mikleo’s heart in turn.

“It hurts for me, too.”

Mikleo’s hand twitched, and as if on reflex, he moved it to cup Sorey’s cheek and brush his tears away with his fingers. Sorey gave a choked-off wail, and buried his nose into Mikleo’s hand – he thought he’d never feel this touch again. He closed his eyes, and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of Mikleo’s palm.

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and slowly opened his eyes. Mikleo was looking at him – really looking at him – and he looked absolutely distraught.

“Sorey,” Mikleo whispered. “What happened to you?”

Sorey really had thought his crybaby years were over, but here he was, weeping again. Mikleo scrambled down from his seat on the icy throne, and wrapped Sorey in his fur-trimmed cape, rocking them both back and forth and shushing him with gentle noises. Sorey had thought he’d never be fully warm again – how wrong he was.

“I had my heart stolen away by a snow prince on a white sleigh,” Sorey said, through his sobs.

Mikleo pouted at that, and color rushed to his cheeks. It was the most beautiful sight Sorey had seen in weeks, even after travelling the whole of the kingdom. Sorey smiled up at him, and leaned up, tilting his chin, pleading for a kiss. Mikleo leaned in as well, ready to oblige.

They were interrupted by sloppy crying from the throne room’s door.

“I-i-it’s so beautiful,” wailed Zaveid, sobbing into the arms of a normin who was weeping just as hard as he was. “Love! Love is what melts hearts and purifies cursed mirror bullshit! LOVE!!”

He trailed off into more crying. Lailah tugged a hankie from her sleeve and dropped it on Zaveid’s head for his later use, then approached Mikleo and Sorey, happy tears in her own eyes.

“Mikleo,” she said. “You are well again. Though the Lord Zaveid’s explanation was…simplistic, it seems that Sorey’s love for you has rid the shard of its corrupting power – in addition to melting your heart of my magic.”

Mikleo touched his hand to his chest, as if testing it for any sort of pain.

“…I can’t feel it at all, anymore. The shard. Do you think it’s gone?”

“I do not sense its presence within you any longer. A tiny piece of glass is surely nothing in the face of such powerful love. The Lord Maotelus thanks you so much for your service. Do you remember where you are, what has happened…?”

Mikleo nodded slowly. “…I do. Those – the people I spirited away, whose hearts I froze. Will they be…are they…”

“When the Lord Maotelus finds a way to purify the shards, it will be safe for them to be unfrozen. Your skillful work with your magic will ensure that they will live again – it will be as if they wake from a deep winter sleep.”

“And the rest of the shards?” Mikleo asked.

Lailah hemmed, and plucked at her sleeves. “I will tend to those shards that remain. You must tend to Sorey, to get him home and back in his own bed – you have gone above and beyond your duties, and Maotelus will surely bless you in all your endeavors for the rest of your days--”

“I do need to get Sorey home and patched up,” Mikleo said. “And bathed. But please. You saved my life, so I want to make sure no one has to suffer while we wait for a cure. I’ll come back to help, I promise.”

“I’m coming too,” Sorey said, a bit miffed at the bath comment. “You’re not leaving without me this time.”

“Do I really have a choice in whether you tag along?” Mikleo asked mildly, though he already knew the answer. Sorey smiled mischievously.

Lailah gave a watery smile of her own, and curtsied. “Thank you. Please, take the time you need to make Sorey well. He has journeyed far to save you, and his heart has melted a path through the coldest winter.”

A pair of normins trotted up to slide a pair of warm snowflake mittens onto Sorey’s hands, and wrap a matching scarf around his neck. To top it off, he was blessed with a snowflake cap, like the little creatures themselves wore.

“I will see to it that this foul weather is lifted,” Lailah said. “Now that I can rekindle my flame to do so. Mikleo, please take your sleigh and carry Sorey home to care for him.”

“Can I drive?” Sorey asked as Mikleo helped him to his feet.

“Absolutely not,” Mikleo said.

Zaveid stumbled up to the two of them, still crying, and bundled them both into a bear hug.

“You’ve allowed me to bear witness to the greatest romance in the past few centuries,” Zaveid sniffled. “Sorey, my man, you’ve overpaid me for my services.”

With that, Zaveid handed Sorey the encyclopedia back. Sorey took it gratefully, and clutched it close to his chest. Zaveid loudly and obnoxiously blew his nose into Lailah’s hankie, and it was clear one of the normin at his feet wanted to nail him in the shins with their trumpet again out of spite.

They journeyed home with incredible speed, sailing across the skies and making it back to their tiny village before the sun rose. They were welcomed back with open arms and tearful faces, and Sorey was bundled into his family home for a hot bath, a fresh set of clothes, and a big warm breakfast.

“The fruit trees are blooming all over the village,” Sorey noted to his mother and grandfather as he stuffed himself. “And the harvests look even bigger than I remember them. What happened?”

“Well, we thought we’d lose the whole harvest to the early frost,” his mother said. “But somehow our little village was spared the worst of it. It was a miracle.”

Sorey had seen Edna on the way back to his home, sitting on a bench in the town square, pretending to ignore him. She had still been wearing his gifts. He hoped she hadn’t strained herself too much.

Luckily, Sorey and Mikleo made it back just in time for the harvest festival – although they were out the funds they’d saved for it (“Sorey, stop apologizing for spending the money – I would have done the same for you!”), they enjoyed the hustle and bustle, and each other’s company, and the sight of each other in their festival clothing. On the second day of the festival, a caravan bearing the name “Sparrowfeathers” rolled into town, bearing an array of goods and gold to be traded for the village’s envious harvest bounty.

“For the wool, cloth, and goat cheese,” Rose said, handing Sorey’s mother a hefty pouch of coins. “And this here is on the house.”

Rose handed Sorey a stack of freshly-printed novels and journals, straight from the capital. Sorey smiled at her brightly, and thanked her profusely – and waved to Dezel where he sat atop the caravan, also pretending to ignore him. Spirits were so moody, sometimes.

The festival went long into the night, and Sorey and Mikleo curled together under a blanket in front of the bonfire, sipping at hot cider. Sorey was healing up well, and soon, they would be off on their mission to gather the remainder of the shards – Sorey wanted to make the most of this evening together. He nosed at Mikleo’s still-white hair, and watched as the firelight played off the silky strands.

“Is the fire too warm for my snow prince’s comfort?” Sorey murmured.

Mikleo idly traced the air, sending a few snowflakes flying into the night sky. “Hardly. I’m not a delicate, swooning thing, Sorey. I help you and your mother wrestle sheep for shearing.”

Sorey laughed. “I know. But isn’t that below your station, now? Wrestling with barn animals.”

Mikleo slanted a look up at him, and the side of his mouth twitched.

“Wrestling with barn animals is something I’m quite passionate about, thank you.”

It was Sorey that was a bit too warm, now. But with the light of the bonfire, and the beauty and crispness of an autumn night to enjoy, Sorey could make do for a while longer before they headed inside. He tucked his cheek against Mikleo’s silky white head, and sighed happily.

Yes, a while longer.

--