The Legend of Zelda: Heroine of Time

CHAPTER ONE

Journey to the Dungeon

They told me I made her cry.

They told me she refused to come out of her chambers for days at a time, she was so upset.

Why didn’t I talk to her?

****** 

"What are you doing?" I asked her curiously, looking down, my arms folded on the rail. Judging by the courtyard’s absent ceiling, it was a bright, almost-cloudless summer’s day.

Me? I preferred lightning storms.

Her long brown hair showered her face, shadowing whatever it was that she was messing with.

"Nothing you’re intelligent enough to understand," she said.

She had some nerve…

I smiled, taking it in good humor, though.

"Well then, Wonder Girl, do enlighten me."

"Go away, get a life, and leave me alone," she snapped.

"Oh yes," I laughed. "Because I’m just such an imperfection on your concentration, is that it? You’re starting to sound more and more like me every day."

Silence.

She shuddered.

******

Why did I give her the cold shoulder, shut her out, and-or mock her, whenever she tried to talk to me?

******

"Listen, Sheik, I’m…I’m sorry about yesterday. What I did was…it was wrong, I know that…"

She stared at the ground, and bit her lip.

Probably to keep from laughing.

"You find it hard to forgive someone," I said, standing in my chamber doorway, "when you’ve been accused of sexual harassment. You cannot imagine the kind of speech my parents gave me after you waltzed in there, sobbing."

"Sheik, I-"

I stepped back, as if to invite her inside, and then slammed the door in her face.

******

Why did I shut my cat in with her?

I knew she was allergic.

Indeed, I did.

I was heartless, jealous, and overall a waste of oxygen.

****** 

"Fifteen archery targets today, mother," she said over dinner, grabbing a bread roll off the platter, "And thirteen high-jumps. Phillip has told me that my time is improving."

CHAPTER TWO

Escape from the Dungeon

For a moment, she looked startled.

And I completely understood.What else would I be here for?           

This, however, only lasted all of about ten seconds.

“Don’t you know there’s no sense in you being here?” Destiny said irritably, as if she was explaining the obvious to a small child.           

‘Don’t you know you’re not supposed to eat grass?’           

I was bemused.           

I must have looked it, as well, because then she explained.           

In the same tone.           

“This is the lowest level of the castle-” She pointed vaguely in the general direction of her surroundings. “-I’m going to die five floors up-” She pointed that same index finger skyward. “-So why aren’t you up there?”           

“I’m sorry,” I said mockingly, with a smile, “Am I ruining your day? Did you want to die? Should I leave?”           

“Any day I spend with you is a day wasted,” she replied.           

“Same here,” I said, remembering that she had gotten that statement from me. “Have a nice afterlife, then.”

I turned around, and started walking back towards the door.           

“Wait!” she called out suddenly.

I froze.           

And then I revisited the cell, “You called?”           

I knew she hadn’t really wanted me gone; someone…anyone…to talk to was infinitely better than no one, in her state.           

It was just her pride stabbing her logic’s eye out.

She was silent for a moment, as if inwardly, fiercely debating whether or not to ask me, and then…slowly…she said it.

“If you didn’t come down here…to shove this in my face…what did you come down here for?”

She looked up at me, waiting for my answer.           

Although she could do no wrong, she certainly wasn’t psychic.           

Thus she did not expect the one that I offered.           

“To help you escape,” I replied calmly.           

Destiny, at this, however, was anything but calm.           

At first, she looked indignant…           

…Then, she burst out laughing.           

I failed to see the humor in this sentence.           

I rolled my eyes, “What?”           

“You?” Destiny said, on the verge of tears. “You want to help me escape? I recommend you abandon that mission…because as bad as the living conditions are here…most of us still have all of our limbs…and we’d like to keep it that way, thank you.”           

Footsteps echoed above our heads, reverberating off of the steadily-dripping stone ceiling. Each one was its own earthquake.           

No doubt that they were that of Zeppelin’s mutants.           

Everyone fell silent, and we all looked up and listened.           

A minute or so later, they ceased.

“You won’t have much need of them in an hour,” I pointed out.

“Yes…true…but what can you do?”

“Not much…” I admitted.

I gripped the bars of the cell gate tight with one hand, and soon soft lavender light illuminated my fingers. I waited for a moment, and then I let go, and the gate shot upward, absorbed by the metal above it. My mother hadn’t had to so much as tap it for this to work, but I had often had to use different techniques to achieve her same ends.

The only setback about this was the hours I had to spend figuring out exactly what those techniques were.

Destiny raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Well…I’m impressed.”

“So am I,” I said, staring at my hand.

The other prisoners almost immediately began shouting at me to release them, as well. They offered me bribes – anything from bread, to horses, to their own children – and said it wouldn’t be fair if only she was let out, but, seeing as how I didn’t particularly feel like roasting on a wooden pole today, and then pondering how hard it would be to escape with Destiny from the castle alive with fifteen extra idiots who didn’t know the meaning of the words ‘shut up’, I elected to ignore them once again.

Society was far better off without them screwing it up, anyway...

It was far better off without Destiny, too, come to think of it…

But for some odd reason, I couldn’t let her die like I could the rest.

Not on a clear conscience.

Maybe it was the fact that I had known her so long, or that she’d risked life and limb to save my father, but I felt a sort of vague emotional attachment to her. It was hard to explain, even harder to comprehend.

“Well?” I said impatiently, standing in front of the archway.

She raised one arm silently, displaying to me a thick, clinking and rattling chain – previously coiled on the floor –that was attached to her wrist by a sort of metal bracelet. She brought her elbow back behind her slowly, and then thrust the arm outward, pulling on it.The other end of the chain – perhaps by magic – was attached firmly to the wall that she leaned against. She strained, but it did nothing. Soon it became clear that no amount of jerking, twisting, tugging or pulling could possibly set that end loose.

Destiny wasn’t going anywhere.

Even now that bars didn’t hold her back.

Maybe my mission had been futile.

The days after Destiny moved in with us were some of the most mentally stressful and physically aggravating of my life.The mental stress came from desperately fighting not to let her win me over, as well, and from trying to keep track of what training session of hers I was supposed to watch when, where, while constantly asking myself ‘Why?’

Thus comes the physically aggravating bit.

Every time that I decided to show up, and witnessed her defying the laws of physics, gravity, and, well…humanity, my mother and father would often point her out as a living example of the kind of warrior that I should be by birthright. “Sheik, why can’t you be more like Destiny, the daughter we never had?”

And I had to try so hard not to slap her upside the head.

More than once, the daughter they never had locked me outside the castle in the evening.

Only sometimes were there guards to let me in.

Sometimes, they had all been dismissed home.

Guess by whom?

Whether it was in the snow, in the rain, or in bitterly icy winds, I would lean against the high stone wall, thanking the goddesses that I was not a homeless peasant, and did not have to do this every day.

My arm ached.

My hand ached.

My teeth clenched.

And all of the rest of me was numb.

I gripped the chain tight, and my hand glowed again, lighting up part of her face. A shell of what it once was, the expression on it was one of both fatigue and relief. I waited, and then I let go, and the chain shot upward, pulling her arm up with it as it went.

She let out a scream, but quickly silenced herself.

Smart, that one.           

When the chain had reached its full length, it fell to the floor, motionless, and still very much intact. My and her faces fell with it.           

“Great,” she said, with a hint of a suppressed moan. “Now what?”           

I didn’t know what to tell her.           

I didn’t want to tell her that I was out of ideas.           

That she was as good as dead now.           

The dungeon door swung wide open again, and this time obviously the visitor wasn’t me. It could have been Zeppelin for all I knew, to tell me that my time was up. It could have been one of her loyal minions, to chain Destiny’s arms and legs, and then drag her up the stairs to her death. Or…           

“Sheik? What are you doing here?”           

…it could have been Phillip Pysing.           

One of her only loyal hylian minions.           

“Phillip!” exclaimed Destiny immediately – it was painfully clear from her face and tone that she was much more relieved to see him than me – “Phillip, please, you have to help me!”           

Phillip stood where he was.           

She wasn’t recognized as honorary royalty anymore.           

She didn’t command him.           

“Phillip, please!” she repeated. “If you don’t, I’ll die!”           

He walked towards us, and stepped through the archway.           

He looked up at it, “I wonder how this happened.”           

He knew perfectly well that it was my fault, but I as sure as all hell wasn’t about to confirm it.  He was completely ignoring Destiny, and I could not tell him otherwise – why should he help her? Zeppelin would murder her before a crowd of hundreds, he thought…and as of now, I was beginning to agree…and then he would be the encore.           

An example to all future rebels.           

No, he wasn’t going to risk it.           

I admit…the fact that I was made me all the more idiotic.           

“I don’t know how it happened,” I replied. “I came to visit her, and…now I’m just making sure she’s where she’s supposed to be.”           

“A likely story,” he said, “Since when are you loyal to Zeppelin?”           

“Well…” I began, slowly and uncertainly, and although it couldn’t possibly have been more of a B.S. declaration, even if I had practiced in front of a mirror all night, it still pained me to say it. “I think that…Zeppelin has…granted the two of us a lot. She’s been wonderful to us. She has granted us our lives…we are not her slaves or prisoners…and…I still have my title. You do, as well. I have personal servants, and a roof over my head. I think it’s time that maybe…I was a little more grateful to her.”           

If there really are three powers-that-be up there, then they will make me forget I ever said that.

Otherwise…

It’s going to haunt me.

For a moment, he studied me closely – perhaps he knew that I was lying, wouldn’t surprise me at all – before he smiled in approval, and said:

“Alright, then…I shall tell Zeppelin our prisoner is ready for her trial.”

He left the room to set about this, but not before first stationing two hulking beasts outside to help me guard Destiny’s cell (Brilliant work, Sheik, I must say!), and while they were doing so…blocking the only way out, of course…they eyed the residents of the nearby cells like a starving transient would eye a hot meal…because…well…that was exactly what they were.           

Destiny and I stood fixed to the spot (not that she had much of a choice, really…), trapped once again without any locks, chains (save for one, but it wasn’t nearly as scary as they were), or iron bars, unable to believe what we had just heard.           

How could he just hand her over like that?!           

Was he really so terrified?           

No.            

No, ‘terrified’ wasn’t the right word at all.           

Was he really so spineless?           

“Alright, genius…what do we do now?” Destiny muttered.           

“We panic,” I replied calmly, after a moment of thought.           

“That’s the best you can come up with?”           

“I could throw in the running-around-in-circles bit, if you’d like.”           

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”           

“Okay. Then shut up.”           

We watched them, just staring, and occasionally they would stare back at us. Most often, though, their attention was focused on the other prisoners, backed up against their cell walls like Destiny.

The tusks frightened them.

The claws frightened them.

And so did the eyes.           

I think the smell may have factored in somehow, as well.

They couldn’t figure any way out of here…and neither could we.

Well…I came, I tried, and I failed…nothing more I can do, right? 

Now where was I in that whole storytelling business…? 

Castletown’s archery tournament from hell…the orphanage…Destiny moving in and torturing me…

Oh…that’s right. Nothing of any real importance to this story happened until the eve of her fifteenth birthday.

Mother and father held a ball in honor of it… 

Where was mine?            

“Good evening, Sir Everston. Pleasant day, Lord Bennett.  Lady Ashford, I am pleased to announce that you are looking younger and thinner than ever. And her adorable daughter, Miss Isabella Ashford-Clarke! Quite a catch that your father found for you, am I right? I see you still haven’t done anything about that mustache…ah, but of course, Sir Gregory! Your finances toward the schoolhouse have gone quite a ways; the five-year-olds who can’t tell a turnip from a carrot will be pleased.”           

He paused for a moment to bow slightly to me, and then continued on his way into the throne room, his brown eyes no doubt having wandered over to the woman of the hour.           

You know…the one who signed me up as her honorary greet-and-coat-boy?           

Yes.           

That one.           

My own pair – a dark blue, gleaming in the torch light – wandered down the hallway, until it rounded off into a corner, and I couldn’t see what was beyond it. Sorry to say, there weren’t any new arrivals coming into view, and the guests already there…well, none of them were a thirteen-year-old merchant’s daughter named Emma. Whatever seldom positive vibes that night had been giving off for me disappeared in an instant – I had planned to ask her to marry me.           

With as little enthusiasm as possible, I greeted the remaining people still standing at the door, and then at last, I walked through myself to have a seat. There was only one person joining me on the sidelines, and I didn’t blame them, really. The wallflower seats, as I referred to them, had gold cushions, emblazoned – as was just about everything else in this place – with the Triforce, and were comfortable as all hell.

Calm down, Sheik, I thought to myself, running a hand through my hair and smoothing it, she will almost certainly only be a few minutes longer.           

Had I even remembered to invite her?           

Goddesses, what if I hadn’t?           

I could imagine going off on her tomorrow for not being there, only to find out that she thought that she was not welcome.           

“Hello there.”           

That was quick, I thought, astonished.           

I opened my eyes.           

“Oh…” I rolled them. “It’s just you.”           

Her hair was much longer and duller than Emma’s, her eyes the same shade, but her facial features, her tanned complexion, vastly different. They were the facial features of the devil.           

She smiled down at me, “Who did you guess?”           

“What do you want?” I asked irritably. “Don’t you have five million other people to talk to over there?”

I gazed over at the crowd standing on the shining marble floor, reflected on it, mingling and waltzing. “They’re waiting for you.”           

“They can keep waiting,” Destiny told me plainly. “Come. Dance with me.”           

“Hold on, let me…ponder this for a short moment…” I replied, actually thinking about it. “Dance with you…or contract a fatal disease. I’ll take the fatal disease. Goodbye now.”           

“It’s my birthday, Sheik.” She almost appeared hurt.           

“I would not care if it was your birthday today, and your death day tomorrow. It isn’t going to happen.”           

“Mother and father will not be happy to hear about this.”           

There she went again, with the whole what’s-yours-is-mine-now-too thing. Didn’t she realize that if my parents really were hers…her flirting with me would be even more disturbing than it already was? With that, she turned, and went to pester someone else like I had told her to.

Maybe half an hour passed then. Half an hour I spent waiting. I looked at the ceiling (sun-yellow, with patches of silver), around the vast room at the people who weren’t counting the minutes until this whole shebang was over…and still…Emma never walked through the doors.

At this point, I was really worried that I hadn’t invited her.                       

I rose from my chair a few moments later, wondering if, perhaps, it was the fault of the guards, keeping her at the gates, or sending her home.

I swore they would have hell to pay if that was the case.

No one, aside from Destiny and my parents (who were seated atop the throne, which rested atop a higher platform, so they pretty much had a fantastic view of everything, whether they cared to see it, or not…) glanced at me as I walked out, lost in their own worlds.

Rounding the corner that previously had been my eyes’ obstruction, and going a short ways further past it, past meticulously detailed portraits, paintings dictating famous war victories, my family crest, and so forth, the air seemed to drop around twenty degrees, fresher, with almost a sweetened fragrance. It was a welcome relief, when compared to the somewhat stifling room I had just been in.

The December wind rushed through the open drawbridge.

Standing in front of it, I looked around – as I had expected, the place was crawling with knights and guards, fully–armored, swords and spears at the ready, all entirely for this occasion. Four waited at the other end of the drawbridge, their backs to me, and their eyes sharp in the darkness. They stood close enough to the castle’s small, surrounding moat that I thought one strong wind might thrust them back into it.

Ten stood at attention at the castle’s front steps.

Emma did not.

Twenty-five patrolled the white stone walkway.And who knows how many more of them there were on the field, or at the gate leading to the trail leading to the castle’s front steps?

…Why do we even have that gate?

“Phillip,” I addressed him, basically and stridently, as he started on his way past the drawbridge – he was easily recognizable, with his uniform far more colorful and elaborate than the rest of the bleak gray sheep putting their left in front of their right. Startled, he froze, looking over.

“Your highness,” he addressed me, likewise basically.

Then he stared, possibly waiting for some sort of order.Off the top of my head, I had none to give.

“Has Emma arrived yet?”

“Whom, your highness? I do not recall…”

Of course.

She was such low-class grime, why trouble to remember her?

“Emma, Phillip,” I said callously. “Emma Dawood, my merchant-class best friend. Have you seen her anywhere?”

He sounded a bit regretful at this next statement.“No, sire, I am afraid that I have not.”                       

I cannot say truthfully that I did not expect that answer…                       

…But that did not mean that I despised it any less.

“Alright, then,” I said at last, following a minute of disappointment, stillness and concern. “I’ll find her.”

“The Lord and Ladyship,” which is what Phillip sometimes had a nasty habit of referring to my mother and father as, “requested that you remain on castle grounds for the duration of the celebration.”

“The Lord and Ladyship are mad if they imagine that I will.”

And, furious, I strode right past him, knowing that there was nothing on Din’s crimson earth that he could do to obstruct me.                       

What I was to find after that, after I paced down the trail to the gateway, and then had an animated argument with the guards posted there – they presented me with the exact same argument that Phillip had, adding that there had been some type of problem on the other side recently; it was certainly no place for me to be wandering…                       

What I was to find after that…                       

Well…                       

It was not pleasant.

“Sheik?”            

Destiny’s present tone of voice – mournful, almost begging – shocked me out of my recollections. I looked down at her with a not-quite-but-getting-there sympathetic expression…           

…Am I sick, or something?           

“Yes?” I asked her.           

“I don’t want to die, Sheik…”           

She then buried her head in folded arms.           

“No one does, Des’...but…”           

Okay, at this time, I should say that Zeppelin was correct…           

What aren’t I terrible at?           

This would include giving uplifting pep talks.           

“…But…well…when you die, you’ll…you’ll be in a better place. Away from Zeppelin…”           

Ooh, now there’s something.           

“…Away from social status…away from total male world dominion…and…and, you’ll be far away from me, I assure you.”           

She smiled – this too was a prelude to a laugh.           

“Okay…now I feel better…”           

I returned her smile, “Good.”           

“You know…” Destiny told me, “I’m kind of thankful you came.”           

Well, this was a shocker.           

“Really?”           

“Of course…your visit reminded me of old times.”           

I laughed somewhat forcedly.           

“Remember that one time…” she began, looking up at the ceiling. “I was so envious of her…of your friend, I mean, and…”           

“And you shoved her down the well.”           

“Yes!” This time she laughed, only it didn’t sound forced at all. “And then you went in to rescue her…”           

“And she had broken her leg, and I could not bring her up the ladder with me.” My recollections of this event were obviously much darker than hers were.           

“…Well,” she defended herself, “you did manage to get her out…”           

“Yes.” Some of that old, familiar bitterness was returning. “After waiting three hours down there for my father to arrive and help me.”           

She changed subject, noticing that she was striking a nerve.           

“Do you know of any other spells?” she asked.           

I looked back down at her, “Of course. I know every one there is.”           

“Any to knock them out?”           

She referred to the beasts.           

“Unfortunately, no…but I could make the furry one hack up a hairball. That should be quite entertaining to watch. I find that I am quite skilled with metal. I can...repair a sword, bend it, rust it, make it vanish...”           

She stopped me there. “Sheik, you idiot.”           

“Yes,” I replied, realizing what I had just said. “Yes, I am.”           

Kneeling once more, I placed my hand over the chain, setting about the task of aging it – and therefore rusting it – several hundred years. I hoped, because it was in a rather intimate relationship with her arm at the moment, that the scarlet radiance emanating from my palm would not affect her, as well.

Bless the goddesses, and at the same time curse them…it didn’t.                        

The guard positioned on the opposite wall of the gate stamped his spear twice into the dirt, and, slowly, it slid open for me.                       

As soon as there was an opportunity to and space enough, I walked through the newly-formed break, by doing so officially leaving the castle grounds behind me. Antony warned me then that I would not like what I was about to see...                       

I would not like it at all…                       

But I did not listen to him.                       

I did not care to turn around, and go back to…                       

No, definitely not.                       

Instead, I only wondered what he had meant by it.                       

I wondered it as I turned the corner, passing the vines that my father had used to meet my mother so many eons ago (Why someone hadn’t torn them down yet, if they were so apprehensive about security, I do not know. Some stupid eleven-year-old could just…walk right in…), as I traveled down the dirt road leading to Castletown...

...and…                       

…as I stopped…                       

…similar to the way I had just two years before…                       

…at the face of a broad, thunderous crowd.                       

It was like the archery tournament, I observed.                       

It was almost unerringly like it.                       

They were all looking at something…                       

Something they couldn’t quite believe they were looking at…                       

It was unthinkable…                       

To some, it was horrific…                       

Why was this happening?                       

How did it come to be?                       

When? When did this happen?                       

Mostly, it was unthinkable and horrific to the family, and I felt for them so, because I knew what they were going through.                       

I myself was experiencing it, although they were not aware.                       

And maybe I was not aware of the full extent to which I was.                       

I was aware of feeling like I was going to throw up at any given moment…aware of that ghastly plummeting sensation in the pit of my stomach as I stared at the same thing that they did…                       

…aware that…                       

…aware that…                       

The impressive ring that I had been toying with slipped from my grasp, producing a minute clang, hanging in the air and ringing, as it battered the stone. I wasn’t sure whether or not I cared if someone stole it.                       

A young girl – beautiful, slender, short in standing, and with a heart of chaste gold that was no longer beating – lie sprawled out on the stone walkway surrounding the well. Her raven tresses were all around her, some shadowing her face, some reddened with her blood.                       

Her dress was all but painted with it.                       

This was the problem on the other side of the gate.                        

This was what Antony had tried to tell me about.                       

This was what everyone in the crowd had been staring at.                       

I was all too aware that I would never see Emma again.                       

What on Din’s crimson earth had I done to deserve it?

CHAPTER THREE

We lazed in Hyrule Field’s deep grass, watching the clouds.

I twisted a long white flower’s stem in my fingers, examining the petals vigilantly, and lightly brushing off any minute specks of dust that I found there. It had to be perfect.

Just like her.

“Father is urging me again to wed Jack…” Emma said, in the whispered, angelic tone that was her typical pitch.

For me, it would only have been relatively above a murmur.

“Oh?” I said, still examining.

Jack Osmont was a seventeen-year-old rival merchant’s son, black hair, blue eyes, whom relentlessly harassed her, and sought to marry her anyhow. He was ecstatic when David offered his daughter’s hand.

They were, after all, of the same social status, her father reasoned.  This way, there would be no lower-class peasant marriages, and perish the thought of any upper-class marriages…

I smirked.

“Yes…” Emma answered me, and she found this next part particularly difficult to say – she found it thorny to be rebellious, period. “On one hand, my father is right…we are of the same class. On the other…well…I don’t love him at all, Sheik. Honest, I don’t.”

I turned my head to look at her, “Then forget about him.”

“I…I just can’t…” she said frustratedly. “I cannot. What if I disappoint everyone? I will then have no one but myself to blame…”

I flicked at a few new specks.

“Take it from someone who is used to it, Em’. People are going to be disappointed in you. That’s life. You can’t please everyone. But you can most certainly please yourself, and that…is what I want you to do, alright?”

Emma smiled earnestly at me. “Alright.”

She then looked away, back up into the powder-blue atmosphere, admiring a cloud that was shaped rather like an acorn.

She traced it with one index finger.

“You’re an amazing person, Sheik.”

She had been soundless for a while, so this startled me.

“Really?” I inquired, though by now I knew the response:

“Yes. You aren’t like most men.”

“The totalitarian oppressors have themselves an oddball,” I confessed, while finalizing my search.

I believed the flower to be ready.

“Some queen is going to be mad about that oddball one day,” she sighed, and was then startled when I put the daisy in her hair. I sat up, and turned to look at her, grinning as I stared into her russet eyes.

“You look like royalty to me.” 

* * * * * *

The chain turned an attractive golden-brown.

But mostly it was just brown.

It was no longer smooth, immaculate, and icy, as it had once been.

No…now, it was just repulsive, coarse, and tepid, three sheets to the storm, all the way up to the bind which fixed it into the wall. I gripped it tightly in both hands, scheduling to wash them thoroughly later, and Destiny smiled, calmed and thankful, as I snapped it swiftly in half like a stick. She snapped the bracelet on her arm in much the same manner, standing and stretching for the first time in perhaps ages…half a year?

Holy hell…

Now there was just the problem of Demon and the Hairball.           

What to do with them?

To be honest…for the second time…I hadn’t any ideas at all.           

It was time for Destiny Williams to work her own form of magic.

A loud grunt and a variant of a roar were heard, compliments of two of Zeppelin’s…whatever they were…from her native land, Somalia.

What? Did you think she was from here?

A wall of sand-carpeted stone taller than I in the wake of the Spirit Temple, at the far-flung end of the Desert Colossus…it alienated us. The Somalians feared us – despised us, because we were far less primordial, and thus far more authoritative, than themselves.

Not Zeppelin, however…

Zeppelin wasn’t afraid of anything.

But she did despise us…there was no getting around that…           

One of them, whom I’d dubbed Hairball – naturally because of its thick fur and the comment earlier – had to have stood at least twenty feet tall, with minuscule, curled pig’s ears, a pig’s snout (only far larger and longer, accompanied by integrated fangs, or so was the story of the shadow it cast by light of the dim hallway torch).

Its extended lion’s tail swept the floor as it paced about impatiently.

It let elsewhere another deafening roar – actually, a cross between a roar and a squeal – and the other creature snapped at it.           

With any luck, aiming to silence it.

Good little mutant.

The other…was a thirty-or-so-foot-tall black bipedal dragon, with a wingspan twofold its height, although they were now collapsed firmly against its back for the lack of range. This was ‘Demon’.           

“Alright,” I said, leaning backwards against the wall, while I prepared myself to watch the fireworks. “Your turn.”

“I don’t have any weapons,” she stated simply.

Fireworks – thou art dead. Damn.

“Do you really need those?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she replied with a nod. “I really do.”

“Here’s a better plan, then – run.”

“Oh…” she smirked. “Another thing you’re an expert at?”           

“Shut it, Destiny, just shut it.”

And then Destiny laughed.

* * * * * *

October 12th, 1313. Sometime around noon – although, with the sky as dark and cloud-ridden as it was, you would scarcely realize it wasn’t seven in the evening – the rain began coming down in torrents, making the deserted market a slick, risky place to be, and the road to and from the castle even riskier.

* * * * * *

Is this a nightmare?’ I wanted to ask her mother, while she stood outside their family’s shop door, wrapped in a thick black shawl, and weeping at the sight of her dead youngest.

I knew the question would have been pointless.

I was conscious, this really was happening…

“What happened?” I settled for, tears hazing my eyesight.

She scarcely said a word to me after that…

When she did speak, it was to tell me that it was all, entirely, my fault; the young man that her daughter been so stubbornly insistent on pleasing by showing up that night.

If it had not been for me, asking her so many times, pleading with her…maybe…just maybe…

* * * * * *

Avoiding a number of mud vats…the ones that Destiny fell short of shoving me into, anyway…she seemed to think this was hilarious, what with me being so painstaking about it…we made it to the streets.

* * * * * *

She left the house against all wishes at five, and her mother went to the downstairs quarters, retrieving a book from a shelf in order to calm her nerves – Emma was impossible, and I was a terrible influence.

Not more than ten minutes later…she heard an explosion.

The ceiling rattled, but settled into place, and the alleyway was briefly illuminated.

* * * * * *

Emma, sitting on the rim of the well in the market’s center, looked up at me, although rather dejectedly; it never seemed to get through her head that Destiny and I were not…well…together.

Yuck.

* * * * * *

Dropping the book to the floor like a rapidly incinerating stick, after waiting and looking around, bewildered, she ran outside to find out what was the cause of all of it. By light of a lantern, she discovered Emma lying there, beside her favorite haunt in the market, possibly the world – bleeding to death from multiple wounds, and no one could figure out what or where they had originated from. No one had the time.

* * * * * *

“I’m sure to regret this later,” she told me, allowing the drops to fall randomly onto her face – indeed, she looked rather like a wet dog at the moment – “But you’re right – it feels wonderful. It’s so liberating.” 

I gave a soft smile, walking towards her, “Yes…but Em’-”

Destiny walked around in random directions, on polished stone and through building rainwater caught in the gaps. She came to stop in front of Emma, just as I had, and stared at her looking incensed.

…Would someone care to fill me in on her problem?

“-When I was talking about standing in the rain…” I continued, “…I didn’t mean standing under a waterfall…”

“Oh, what does it-?”

Lightheartedly, she had started to respond, but never ended up getting the chance to, startled and screaming as Destiny thrust her backwards into the well’s mysterious, deep chasm.

I leaned over the rim, staring into it – nothing…absolutely nothing.

Not even water.

There came a small splash, hardly amounting to anything when you compared it to the full capacity; perhaps just enough to drench the nearby walls, as Emma undoubtedly arrived at the base. Fleetingly, she screamed again, and then she moaned softly……

“Emma?” I called. “Emma, don’t worry. You’ll be out of there soon, I promise, just as soon as I massacre her!”

“Okay.”

I was not certain if that was her speaking, or simply the wind.

                                     * * * * * *

Destiny stared at me, attempting to maintain a straight face, and whatever it was that she was thinking about as she did so made that a living nightmare. A smile kept tugging at her lips, and she kept biting it.

Did I even want to know?

I stared back at her, “Are we quite done admiring yet?”

She dismissed all efforts to hold back the grin.

“Why yes we are, bait.”

I blinked several times, “Pardon?”

                                    * * * * * *

“What the hell was that!” I demanded, rounding on Destiny.

She shrugged and looked away, “Boredom.”

“Well, goddesses-” I just about saw red. “You’re bored pretty damned often then, aren’t you?!”

“You could say that.”

“Get out of my sight!”

She smiled, “And why should I? What can you do to me?”

“Keep this up until my coronation,” I replied. “Find out.”

My eyes were as hard as frozen winter ground, almost silently daring her to challenge me again.

Akin to Raulin in her case, she just didn’t have the audacity.

Her smile faded, “Very well then. I shall see you at dinner.”

Rotating about-face, with her hair now nearly the shade of fresh ink, and her tunic, boots, and leggings drenched, she strode away, as smooth and composed as her tone.

She didn’t make an effort to shirk the mire…and you know what?

Never once did she lose her footing.

Never once.

I unclenched my left hand from its fist, descending the dangerously wet stepladder, and praying that Emma was alright.                       

                                          * * * * * *

“Well, what do you think I mean?” she said. “If we just…dashed out there, Demon would sauté us both. We need a distraction. And since you’re expendable–”

“An admirable statement about the person who is saving your life!”

“What I mean is–”

“What you mean is,” I finished the sentence for her. “‘Why risk myself when I have a mortal standing right next to me?’”

“Sheik, you know that isn’t–”

“No, Destiny. That’s exactly what you were going for.”

She was silent for a blissful moment, and hence was I.

Any one word…any at all…could be the ember that lit the bomb.

Following said moment, tranquilly and silently Destiny walked out of the cell. Her inmates were in a chaotic uproar, shouting and threatening, but with the air of someone passing a caged barking dog, she paid them no heed whatsoever, approaching Demon and the…um…pig…?

I desperately – you have no idea – wanted them to shut up.           

If this continued, they were sure to…

Wait a minute.

You know what?

Disregard them shutting up.

They could be thick all they wanted.

“Wait for my signal…” I muttered to Destiny, accompanying her under the doorway. To which she resentfully replied, “Your signal? Why should I wait for your signal?”

“Because for once…I know what I’m doing.”

“You mean you think you know what you’re doing.”

“No, Destiny. I know what I’m doing.”

I glanced back, as did she, at the fifteen or twenty-some-odd. She had been the only female in there…it must have been lonely for her.

A few of the men weren’t roughed up too terribly; they must have been new arrivals, from when Ganondorf’s nightmare prodigy Zeppelin first took over. Some of them…had been around since I was growing up, probably, and the more ancient-looking ones…almost savages…must have been from my father’s era.

“One…”

Demon, with humid black smoke expelling slowly from his nostrils every few moments, and Hairball inspected our movements with the utmost distrust. Their gold eyes rotated, glimmering in the candlelight.

The racket originating from within the dungeon seemed to have them only slightly bothered, which bothered me far more than slightly.

Come on…I silently begged them, Come on, you idiots…

To be honest, I was terrified to be standing in their presence, within striking range of their tails, their claws, their teeth…even Demon’s wings could cleave me into a bloody mess if given the chance.

“Two…”

I didn’t want to wait very long…

Zeppelin could materialize at any given moment, to watch Destiny be collected, and then to shove it in her face, when I would not.           

And when and if she did, and she saw us standing here…           

Well…she’s never been exactly stupid…

She would know what we were trying to do.

What I had been intending to do all along.

“Three…”

I paled even further than the normal at the thought of what she might do to me. I swallowed, though it was painful…and then I silently prayed to Farore, creator and guardian of all life in Hyrule, to spare me from harm.

What if she didn’t exist?

What would I do then?

I didn’t want to think about that.

I heard them talking about me…

“Four…”

About how I was the last member of the Harkinian bloodline – so horribly, unfortunately true – and then ranting about how useless I was, and why couldn’t they have someone better?

Someone who was actually concerned about their well-being?           

Did I have news for them – the Hylian monarchy was deceased.

It had been so since summer.

I had no authority, no say in anything, my throne wasn’t mine…

So why should I give a damn?

“Well, you lot are an enormous help to the kingdom!” I shouted. “Locked in there…why do you think you were! On a random whim?”

I realized that a few of them probably were…

But then, I had only been half-serious.

It was more to rile them than anything.

“Sheik, don’t talk to the vermin,” Destiny chided. “You’ll only encourage them.”

Wow.

For once, she was actually helping me.

I doubt she knew it, though.

Otherwise, she’d have stopped.

They were louder and more headache-inducing than ever.           

The beasts turned to look in their direction…

And I gestured to Destiny.

“Now!” I whispered.

We slid out from under the doorway, racing around the corner.

Destiny, the lither, was ahead of me by several feet. Her boots the color of wet wood, they pounded across the stone at the pace of light, and I had to fight and struggle to keep up with her.

Did she even know where we were headed?

I wouldn’t have blinked if she’d told me yes.

I was once more winded, traveling the castle corridors in a string.

Why was Emma dead?

Who murdered her?

Was it a Hylian noble, I wondered, one who could not stand the thought of yet another lowerclass marriage in the royal family?

Who still resented my mother for going against tradition?            

Perchance Jack?

‘If I cannot have her, no one can.’

Was it an accident?

No.

No, it couldn’t have been.

People don’t just accidentally cause another to bleed to death…

When the Sages later informed my parents that, after twenty-four long years, the Sacred Realm’s seal had finally snapped, much like the rusted chains which had once seized Destiny in bondage, I swear my heart missed at least two beats.

It was then I realized what must have happened.

Emma had met up with Ganondorf, hadn’t she?

If only I had spent that morning with her…

We could have left to the castle together.

I could have spared her life.

Even if it meant surrendering my own.

What a prize, I thought sullenly, when I had at last lost sight of her; I had known it was going to happen for some time now. It was inevitable.

I could still faintly hear her, though, and I was following that alone.

The life of the son whose father had nearly destroyed him forever.

Well, he had promised revenge on my father’s descendants…           

And right now…that was me.

I doubt that was why he murdered Emma, though.

How could he possibly know what she meant to me?

No…most likely, she was in his way.

The courageous little doormat…

I smiled.

The narrow corridors were hauntingly still and vacant…they were almost ill-omened in a strange, unexplainable way. I was vigilant, but in high spirits at the same time.

We were finally on our way out of here…

Approximately ten minutes later, I rejoined Destiny, who was leaning both nonchalantly and as though she had been there forever and a half against the wall beside to the staircase, which led downward into the fifth basement. Try saying that five times fast.

No.

Honestly.

I challenge you.

She rolled her eyes and walked to me, “Finally you get here!”           

“Yes, yes, Destiny,” I said just as irritably. “There is not a rabbit in the world that does not envy you right now. Come on!”

And so she followed me this time.

“Where exactly are we ‘coming on’ to?” Destiny asked.

We walked up and down staircases of varying sizes.           

Occasionally, we crossed a room…

Like in the second basement, moving silently across the bedchambers of Zeppelin’s two small, sleeping daughters…

Their small forms curled beneath the substantial fur bedspreads, almost suffocating them.

The tops of their heads were visible – crimson.

Just as soon as we had departed from the room, first waiting, of course, directly behind the door for Phillip to pass by on his way back to the dungeons, I told her.

By now, she was extraordinarily cross with me.

So what else is new?

“Where do you think?” I replied, as though it were completely obvious, even to a rat. “The rooftop; it is the one region of the castle where we can escape with a remote possibility of going unnoticed.”

“What about the drawbridge? That’s actually on the ground!”           

“And here I was, thinking I was the stupid one!”

I then climbed up the staircase, leading to the hallway in which I had originally hid from Zeppelin; a sign that we were making progress.

“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Destiny, and I then gave her a fierce look– we had to be more careful now; we were nearing the throne room. “You are calling me stupid, when you are the one who is suggesting that we leap off of the third floor! If we survive…that sounds totally brilliant!”

“You are suggesting,” I pointed out, “that we bypass the throne room – basically inviting Zeppelin to chase us, and slaughter us – and then, if she doesn’t, we run across the drawbridge, down the staircase, to a front garden absolutely swarming with who-knows-what-they-are…who will then do the job for her.”

“…Sheik,” said Destiny harmoniously; she had most likely ignored every word that I had just said. “Let me explain something to you…”

Oh, boy.

Here we go.

“…A human cannot survive a two-story drop. So how are we supposed to survive three? Sarcasm your way out of that-”           

And just when I thought that she actually had a point there…           

“-Furthermore, even if by some bizarre miracle, we do, we’ll still be facing the same front garden of minions! You do realize that, don’t you?”

…I was proven correct.

“I would rather face the three-story drop than Zeppelin Dragmire.”

Destiny seemed to be of the same opinion, for she followed willingly.

The same night I had found her in that condition…

My father left.

It was the very last time that I would ever see him.

He felt it was his obligation, you see, to go after Ganondorf, not only to avenge Emma’s death, but in addition to ensure that none of his other subjects’ lives would be put into danger.

He was far more valiant…more self-sacrificing…than I shall ever be.

And despite all his demands for me to be like him without mistake…

Despite the reality that, to a degree, it was his fault that Destiny came to live here…

I missed him.

                                        * * * * * *

“Father, you can’t go!” I protested, as he mounted his horse. The Sages, save for my mother, were waiting for him on the opposite end of the garden. They could wait an eternity for all I was concerned.

He looked down at me, as usual speaking not a word.

He waited to hear my explanation.

“We have soldiers that we can send, hundreds of knights, but Hyrule needs you here!”

I didn’t want to tell him that I needed him there.                       

Perhaps if I had done so, he might have stayed.

Oh, who am I jesting?

He lived for warfare!

This was confirmed when, after staring at me for a moment afterwards, he then turned Aphron around, and started down the trail to join the others.

“Fine!” I shouted after him. “Go ahead and kill yourself!”

I turned, and started walking back towards the castle.

“See if I care…” I muttered.

                                     * * * * * *

But I did.

I did care.

And when I found out – was it a month later? – that he had done just that at the Spirit Temple…I found myself caring so much that it hurt.

In the distance, I could hear them; my people, apprehensive, concerned, wondering why they were to be made to watch this no doubt horrific and bloody event. I wished that I could tell them there was nothing to fear…that they would be alright…but I couldn’t. How could I tell them that when their would-have-been future sovereign was, as they spoke, abandoning them to Zeppelin’s mercy?           

When there was still an alarmingly high chance of her finding us?

There was an insane point when I almost considered stopping…

I would tell Destiny to go on ahead and save herself, that I could not just leave them here…

Then my sanity suddenly returned from its breathtaking vacation.

“Coast clear?” I asked.

“Coast clear,” Destiny confirmed.

We were just about to cross to the second-floor stairway, when…

“Don’t worry…he’ll be here soon.”

We froze, flat against the wall.

That oh-so-very familiar elegant and airy tone coming from just around the corner sent iced needles hammering into my spine.

No doubt if I’d had eyes in the back of my head, they’d be watching the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention…

“Coast not clear,” Destiny whispered.

“As if I could not figure that out for myself!”

“What was that you said about the roof being safer?”

“What is it that compels you to say anything at all?”

After that, we were silent.

Zeppelin Dragmire was half-Hylian, and half-Gerudo, with a Gerudo’s small round ears, but still the Hylians’ adept hearing.

If we said anything more…

Oh Din.

“Hide!” I hissed.

“What do you call this?”

“I mean somewhere else!”

Destiny looked at me indecisively for a moment, as though for a time I had gone insane, but then she did as she was told, going as softly as she could off to who-knew-where. If it was the drawbridge…           

…then I bid her farewell.