Any Love
“If thou hath any love for existence itself, thou wouldst heed me, daughter of wisdom,” it boomed, floating from the dark loft.
Zelda stared up at the clenched, shaking fist, and clenched her own. “What choice have I?” She said, glancing over her bloodied court, the bodies of her protectors and assailants mixed alike. Too many sacrifices.
The disembodied hand snapped its fingers, opening a portal before her.
“Nayru, protect me,” she breathed. One more sacrifice, for her suffering subjects. Her shaking ceased. She stepped through the blue-gray portal. Her razor mind cut the void.
---
“To save thy subjects herein, and thou may gain the company of champions,” it said.
“All creation? Naga,” Marth uttered. Faced with a new demand, a demand on his life no less, he lowered his eyes from the disk before him and closed his ears to Master Hand. No more tragedy. Yet his eyelids snapped open. His office demanded that he give to his people unto death, no matter the tragedy.
“I shall,” He marched into the disk-like portal. His flame of duty conquered the chill.
---
The fist pounded the castle's surface, crushing it and creating a hole to a pit of lava below. “I command you, King of the Koopas. Your domain and all your claim are in peril.”
“Gwargh! Wh-what's with you, Master Hand?!” he stumbled away from the drop.
“Time is short. I order all before me. The worlds must be protected from the chaos, and you are a most meritorious character, along with Mario, Peach, and Luigi, who will protect your world,” he snapped his fingers, creating a portal across the pit.
“Fine, you oversized glove! This better not mean I have to be all buddy buddy with the Mario Brothers.” Bowser grumbled and stomped up to the blue-gray disk. His flying clown car caught him when he jumped, and he descended into oblivion.
---
“'Falco, don't shoot! That thing is taking out—Woah!” Fox slammed on the reverse thrust, stopping his Arwing as a half-robot creation with piercing red eyes and an olive helmet began materializing before him out of the red-purple portal.
“Fox!” Falco shouted into his transmitter. When a barrage of bullets, glowing like heated iron, flew from his previous target, a gigantic hand, to destroy the new foe, he was at a loss.
“Go through the portal and this world will be safe,” the two heard, somehow knowing it was the hand that spoke to them.
Fox sped into the blue-gray portal before him. As he did, Falco saw the strength of the red-purple space monstrosity diminish dramatically, and a number of the surrounding ships vanished instantly. Falco cursed as he rolled his Arwing, deflecting a shot from one of the odd ships they had been fighting in defense of Corneria.
“Alright, I'm going in.”
---
Unshielding his eyes he saw a grassland and overcast skies flying past. His comms buzzed, and a voice crackled through the static.
“Fox, do you read me?” The brokenness cleared naturally.
“Falco? What happened? I've been wandering around for hours.”
“Nevermind that, what were you thinking diving head first—and what do you mean, hours? It's only been a few minutes.”
“Time dilation? Some side effect of that teleportation.” Fox sighed and the speakers crackled. “Anything to end that slugfest. How long were we fighting? Did it work?”
“Months. A year? Fox,” he hesitated and adjusted his heading according to his HUD. “Get some rest, pal, I'll be a while. Don't worry about the others, the promise was true.”
---
Bandana Dee was simple folk, he only cared about two things: his spear and his friends, and he knew his friends were in danger. But racing for cake didn't prepare him for his marathon, good exercise though it may have been, for the moment he tracked them and arrived at the archipelago where they were resting he saw the hand who would inform them. It had to be here about that, so Bandana Dee thought he'd lie face down with Kirby, and he gently plopped.
The masked puffball looked at the exhausted Dee, then up to see the hand on high descending towards. He closed his book and stood. “Dedede.”
“Whuzzat?” The penguin king rolled over and hopped up at the sight. “Bah gum, it's Master Hand,” he said, smacking the pink puffball, sending it jiggling. “Wake up, Kirby! Why, hello Dee.”
“Hail, Hand of Order, what brings you to the Orange Ocean?” The masked on said.
“Hail, valiant Meta Knight, Star Warrior, Self-Anointed King, and Exceptional Dee!”
King Dedede grumbled at his title, and the Star Warrior Kirby picked himself up and rubbed his head.
“It's great you're all in the same place. A darkness greater than Nightmare, Zero-Two, or any other might befall your world. To keep the Star Rod safe, you're gonna have to lend your powers to help defeat my brother and our new foe.”
“Now I'm thinkin' it's best you explain a little more. What's going on with Crazy Hand?” King Dedede shouldered his gigantic hammer.
“I'm using my power to be in many places at once, to prove me to be a deity of good. Don't question now; my time's short.” He snapped his fingers. “And there are many otherworldly treats to be had.” Master Hand flew away.
Bandana Dee struggled up, and stumbled towards the portal. Kirby ran in with a smile at the thought of treats. The King, though he raised his brow, followed. Meta Knight saved his time watching Master Hand fade up in the sky, then followed, undisturbed by the unpleasant tunnel that awaited him.
---
Marth fell to his knees. He saw a cheerful smile, and long blue hair as he shut his eyes tight. The grass behind him was righting itself instantly, as if he was a ghost. His mind rebelled, he didn't know how long he'd been wandering, he though should be hungry, or thirsty, or tired, but for the feeling of the hard earth through his fine clothes and gentle breeze on his face he might be consumed by his only other thought. He saw her eyes, concerned, melancholy, hopeful. Duty. He stood and marched on.
---
Zelda watched the sepal sway forward, disappear, and back, in rhythm with the consistent airflow. She looked at the sky and saw how the clouds went one way. She saw the uniform lighting in every direction. This world was not finished. She touched the only non-grass plant she'd seen, and Farore flowed out to greet it. It was made whole, and unfurled into a bush of roses, though still wrapped in their sepals. She invoked Farore again, and blew to the first of these, and it blossomed while she lay, thinking of her dearest—those noble sages who stood by her against the tide, and the hero she had lost.
---
He made out a unnaturally saturated scarlet, and his desire to discover something, anything, to carry out his duty, made him run. For the first time his muscles ached, realizing how all that space passed in what seemed like a moment. The land was vast, but no longer empty. Behind him the grass was slow to straighten itself. Pink and gold met his eyes as well, and he slowed, drawing near at last, and in the agonizing final steps, the pink and gold flower sat up—no, a woman, with pensive eyes. He froze. She stood. He warmed quickly, and convinced himself to relax, so she too, letting an arm fall to her side. He bowed, and she returned it.
“I sought a rose.”
“You've found it.”
Scarcely had they noticed twilight had come upon them, and for the first time the clouds began clearing themselves, revealing the dull orange sky.
“It's becoming dark.” Zelda remarked.
“It has, rather suddenly.”
“And somewhat chilly. May I borrow your cloak, sir?” She undid the yellow twine band that held her gold pauldrons in place, and they fell to the ground with a thud.
“Of course.”
Zelda took the thick cloak. “I can't thank you properly, but perhaps you would tell me your name?”
“Your word is all the thanks I'd want.” He paused. “I was called by many titles, but, please call me Marth.”
She nodded. “In our worlds, I'm sure we didn't have to introduce ourselves much. I am Zelda. Pleased to meet you, Marth.”
“Zelda, are you a manakete?”
“No, what is that?”
“A—well, I ask because your ears resemble theirs. A little. They look otherwise human, but they are dragons true.”
“A dragon?” Zelda's thin eyebrows raised.
“You've never heard of a dragon?” Marth's oval eyes widened.
“We come from distant worlds after all! I don't know if I've ever seen blue hair.” Her lips rested upwards in a curious, natural smile.
“I assure you it's natural, and more common for royal blood.” He returned the smile. “Then, are you human?”
She shook her head, and rubbed her gloved arms together underneath her new shroud. “No, very close, though. Hylians are of more noble breed.”
“I don't suppose all these champions are of such high standing. This is a pleasant coincidence, Zelda.” He rubbed his arms of leather and steel together. “I hope you wouldn't mind if we talked more in the morning rather than now.”
“I don't mind. It would please both of us.” She nodded and went to the ground.
He unstrapped his armaments and plate armor. “That hand pushed us through without provision, yet the only thing I feel is tired.” Laying down in the grass beside her, he shivered violently.
“Looks like tired isn't the only thing you feel.” She flipped the cloak open. He silently berated himself and forced his body to stop shaking. “There's—there's no need for distance when the needs of survival come up. I don't mind us sharing the cloak. I bet it could fit both of us.”
“If it doesn't offend the lady.” He continued looking into the sky.
She pursed her lips. “You make it sound like it's only for my sake.”
“Yes... Forgive me. I'll honor your wish for our sake.” He sidled in back first, and the princess threw the cloak over them after turning over herself. It didn't reach all the way, and the prince pulled it taut, and moved again, pressing their backs together, and tucking the edge under him.
They bid each other a good rest.
---
Naturally broken as human rest is by the watch, they woke after many hours. The only thing assuring them was the warmth at their backs and the coolness of their uncloaked feet.
“Are you awake?” Zelda started.
Marth hummed in response.
“I feel like this utter silence and...” she said.
“... this complete darkness would be worrisome,” Marth finished.
Zelda hummed in response.
“No moon,” he said
“No wind.”
“But 'tis peaceful.”
“Such is always this blessed time.”
Loosening their bind, he rolled over to relieve the stiffness.
“Marth, come close,” she whispered, turning herself over as well, while rubbing the long, sore ear she rested on. Din's fire came to life in the space between their necks, and they were more surprised than they should have been to find their noses almost touching. The light was low and red so neither could see the color of their cheeks, for which they were thankful. “No need to let any light out,” was her excuse.
“Mhm,” he agreed.
Their gazes both went to the warmth-giving orb.
“You're a mage?” He said.
“Yes.”
“I'm glad. My friend Merric, and my sister Elice, founded a mage's academy in Pales after the war, and were betrothed. I wish I'd had more time from running a continent to see them before I came here.” His eyes went up to find hers staring back. “Perhaps you'd like to see their tomes... but I somehow doubt we'd be able to after whatever it is we're doing here is over.”
“Yes, I'd love to if able, but what do you mean by tomes? History?” She blinked, but didn't avert.
“Oh, I forgot, you weren't using any such thing when you performed your magic. Our mages have to use reagents and books to cast.” He tried to tell the color of her eyes in the dimness. “Your power seems to come from within.”
“We don't have many mages. It's in-born, usually. For that matter, after the war... I suppose that's one thing we share-” she looked down again, and Marth grit his teeth. “But—it seems like you had a lot of friend to rely on, and what a 'con-tin-ent' is. My kingdom, it seems, our sorrows were smaller.”
“Please... don't compare the scope of sorrows, they all ought not be.”
“You're right.”
He searched for something to say in the lull. “A continent is a large mass of land surrounded by the sea.”
“Oh? I've never... How large?”
“Ahh, um, I'd say Akaneia is five to seven million square kilometers. The other continents are so far away across the waters or inhospitable, so.”
“My, that's almost incomprehensible to me, nobody in my world has been able to penetrate the vast Forgotten Woods—not even, the hero—or the Gerudo desert, or the vast sea to... If I put a number to it, I'd say Hyrule is a measly million or half. I've heard strange word of a land called Termania, too.” She paused and wrapped her arms around herself, looking away. “It seems like you've had a lot of good friends to rely on, generals too. Hyrule's historical wars usually comprise a princess like myself, almost always named Zelda, an incarnation of darkness, usually Ganondorf, and a hero called Link, and an artifact called the Triforce. It's like a recurring cycle,” she shuddered. “I wish it ended—at any rate, he's sealed away, but it might only hold a few hundred years. The legendary hero wasn't able to defeat him this time.”
“Goddess-”
“Wh-how'd you know that-” she started
“Huh—No, I—you're a goddess?”
“No, an incarnation of the one before the three, uh... That's what sage Rauru said the evidence points to.”
“Oh. I was invoking Naga—Akaneia's divine dragon—because—ahm, I don't suppose it matters. Everything's turned upside-down with that Master Hand. I almost want to go back now, but those things would return and,” he fell silent. “I feel like the dark dragon isn't put to eternal rest either. My descendants would continue that quest, perhaps, if Hardin hadn't killed-” he bit his tongue. “What a sad excuse for the hero-prince, still bitter at his dead... friend after three years.” Tears welled in Zelda's eyes, and the feeling overcame Marth too. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't be saying such things.”
“I pray the other champions don't have such darkness as us.”
“To whatever good gods are listening.” Their hands embraced.
By the time Din's fire faded, so too had their wakefulness.
---
“Why're you laughing?”
“For good cause. Trapped in a wasteland of grass, I, the King of Darkness? Forswear it.” He waved his hand coolly. “No, 'King of Koopas', I laugh at its ridiculousness. If I am, how can he say I have a chance at redemption yet? Outer horrors who injure the mind I see not, goddesses, I see not, my old arch-nemeses, I see not.” He cast a gaze from sunken eyes back at Bowser. “Yet realize I that Master Hand did speak there would be champions; you testify against it.”
“Wha'd you mean, I testified against it?” The other punched his fists together when he realized. “I'm no good-guy, but I'm champ enough to straighten out your face, with your oversized noze and forehead I'll--”
“What is there for us to do but laugh? We are toys and no more, beat me as you wish, no champion am I,” Ganondorf spoke through Bowser's threats.
“Ugh... You sound like the Twilight court I had to deal with after Zant's rule, Ganondorf... Your fault, of course.” The silhouette of a feminine imp flowed from the ground and hovered.
“No need have I to win against you; I concede.” He spoke past her too. “I had no hatred or anguish to drink my fill like I did of your people before being revived by that hand of order, Midna. The chose of the goddesses has been reduced to worthless philosophy. If ever I asked forgiveness, it might be now when arrogance and power are not mine.”
“You think that I'd forgive you?” Midna put her hands on her generous hips.
A corner of Ganondorf's lips twitched. “You're the second daughter of wisdom... You're too good of heart to refuse genuine contrition.”
Her bright orange hair formed a fist, which clenched and shook before she returned to the shadows of the plant life.
“You're both boring me to death. Not that this world wasn't already.” The Koopa sighed fire breath.