Jaedrik
Man-at-Arms-at-Keyboard
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2009
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I'm copying this straight from my Fanfiction.net page, yes, I am Jaed'rik Cobalt. I should get premium to reflect that, hah. There was a point I just stopped editing and gave up.
Greetings, before beginning I must tell you that this story is incomplete, and will most likely remain so. I have been conflicted in the past with sharing what I perceived to be progressing successes and literary failures, and had often deleted outright some of my more embarrassing fanfictions, and I regret this choice wholeheartedly. So now today I come to share with you my most recent work which I have lost passion for, clocking in at about nine thousand and seven hundred words of romance and adventure in the world of Super Smash Brothers. I suspect many will call into question what really was a failure and what wasn't, and for the sake of any critique that comes by, I say the few things that ultimately did me in where Sheik's characterization, the suggestive turn things often took—which I promptly deleted while writing and continued on—and the simple cop-out of amnesia so I didn't have to explain quite a few things, things which I told myself I'd explain later. Enjoy, and please, tell me how to become a better writer, thanks!
Wiping away the dust covered text he read, “What is becometh after you accept His great design and commission?” Strange, it seemed to cut off, even stranger still the incredibly plain but cryptic words. Finding a plaque on a pedestal here is unnerving to be sure, but he took a sense of purpose from it. Fatigue fogged his mind, he knew not where he was, and he hardly knew who he was, just fuzzy memories. He knew how to survive, yes, he knew his name, Marth, his swordplay was second nature and held firm as his anchor. He looked about the landscape and sighed, the title of prince surely had no weight to animals, he thought. Just south there stood pines, and a sudden glimmer, he caught it as he scanned the landscape, a reflection gold in hue. Strange it would seem that he was not alone, and disquieting as it was, he thought, he again took purpose in something odd, the mystery played on his tongue and across his mind.
She was tired, her fatigue great, and an innervated fear was growing in her. She knew who she was, a princess, she knew her name, Zelda, the other limited knowledge she had was of her magic, a staunch defender against the cold, a certain warmth of love, but it was weak and distant. As she looked from the forest onto the plain she saw a blue figure on a hill moving towards her, Golden Goddess praises be, please show thy servant hospitality, I can feel Din's fire fading, the cold is creeping in, I'm losing my reason! Maybe her knight could warm her, however faint the hope seemed, but for now she felt the tiredness nearly paralyzing, for fear of her life she ran, tears welling.
He needed to find rest he knew, hopefully some place much warmer, he thought. Marth shook his head vigorously, Do not forget thy guard and keeping. Renewing his alertness would not prepare him adequately. “Aa-” he was stunned, and watched as Zelda rushed towards him. She was cold and afraid, and wanted to feel safe and warm, and she didn't expect such a base fear and want to overwhelm her. Zelda flung her arms around him and attempted to hold back her tears of frustration, of thankfulness, clenching her teeth with eyes shut tight. Marth came to his sensibilities and embraced her with concern, and a strange warmth and understanding clouded over him. One hand held her head, then he felt her slump in his arms and choke back her tears, breathing shakily. He took his cloak and wrapped them together. felt something leap in his chest he couldn't describe, an incredible comfort and warmth emanating from this powerful spirit with him, it was Din's fire, kindled with the tinder of their Storge - affection. She felt dizzy next to this kind soul, his presence, the natural bond they composed, overwhelmed her slowing thoughts, soothing thus she felt her lethargy consume her, it was a friendly embrace that turned her world black.
Near the center was curious indeed, fog dominated, grass was interrupted with interspersed patches of dead area, some of these had what looked like extremely large roots cresting from the ground, on which three starkly contrasted figures lay.
They woke at once, knowing immediately much the same as everyone else, one with a scowl as he stood tall and ominous, one brushing himself off and straightening his mask, the last looked on in confusion and ruffled his feathers, where could they be? He was just enjoying a wormy reuben in the hangar bay of. . . a ship? Ah well, he felt well fed so he turned his attention to the other two with “So, where we are, you guys know, right?” They both let their eyes on him, one analyzing and unreadable, the other betrayed a dark conflict of hatred, he shuddered and looked away.
“Unfortunately not, we are then in the same circumstances?” The masked one asked matter-of-factly. The other, incredibly tall, clad in dark heavy armor with sandy wear, just observed the landscape and crossed his arms.
The fireplace crackled with sap as his vision slowly focused at ease, a sort of haze as if he hadn't enough repair in his sleep, yet he knew that would soon go away. He was in a long hall to the side of the fireplace, there was furniture and soft candlelight everywhere, yet he could spot more modern luminaries off above. The hall went tall, with arches and keystones, the ground had a long carpet through the middle of the grand way atop which a long and elegant stone table perfectly set and adorned with a simple yet neutral table cloth sat. Master architects placing reliquaries for books, places for candles creating a dim yet comfortably visible atmosphere, rose windows gray from the weather outside, blending smooth cool tone stone brick outlining the floor blue. He reached for his head and felt his hair, something seeming out of place, he turned and saw his hat on an end table, a classic shade of green with a woven look and a perfect “L” in the center. He swung his legs from the ottoman they rested on and stood, stretching and replacing his hat. He nearly jumped out of his overalls when there was a bump from down one of the near side passages, it sounded like a rock on a door. With chattering teeth and quaking legs he tiptoed toward the arch at the passage and peeked out around it, a long hallway slightly less well lit greeting him. He hid himself at the sound again, softer and deliberate, like knocking, yet he would not move, unwilling to risk even the most reasonable of suppositions. The handle jiggled a bit, appearing to be locked, and then a silence. Contradicting himself he slowly crept out from around the corner towards the door.
Quickly coming to his senses he stayed perfectly still. Analyzing the stuffy dark interior of the side room he slowly began running his fingers around, feeling various cleaning implements and other utilities, he knew he was in a cleaning closet, and grumbling at the inexplicability of it all he found the door with an accidental bump. Quickly standing he slowly pressured the handle, and seeing it was locked he knocked for maybe a fortunate passer-by. No such luck, he jiggled the handle around a bit, as if trying to find some special way to open it. He quietly backed away from the door, contemplating his predicament, what could this be? He felt a power course through him as he rubbed his knuckles, a great evil was slew by this fist, the last image and first memory he ever saw before this gave him vindication for he thought he had died, but is this what the inside of a black hole is really like, a cleaning closet? A tiny peep suddenly came from without.
“The world's crown gives of such a pleasant aura, this taiga of the north,” He made sure not to cross his arms into his spikes again
“Poyo poy upoya?”
“Yes, there are more friends out there, but enemies are coming I fear as well,”
“Poy! Poya upa opoyo!” The puff waved his arms with emphasis and a stern look. Lucario just smiled and nodded at that, but Kirby was quite focused on the matter, and gave Lucario a questioning and innocent expression. Rudely interrupting was a growl, loud and from within. Kirby smiled, blushed, and scratched his back, it was his stomach.
Lucario gave him a weak look, then a warm smile. “Hungry, eh?”
There was beauty, beauty beyond comprehension, a grand choir composed of the unreal, the architecture and acoustics molded in perfection in form and purity in essence. There was nothing else for him, only the sound at this moment, the creator of that world felt it, he knew some were there, he knew some of his creations had at last fulfilled their role, set by their loving creator, and he grieved for those that chose to reject his design. But there was a force dark and maligned, completely removed from this realm, separated over vast eternities, known some day to return, return to cast misplaced shadows into creation. This ultimate Joy created by his discipline could not be rivaled by even his dark brother's creations, but that was something they had to find out for themselves, he had pledged to another one, his friend, he would not allow it to unfold with his act of will and would distance himself, and how sad his voices could not speak to them, but he would shed Love and Joy on them from afar, whatever the cost to his chained form, bound by his own laws. The Master Hand knew he would not fulfill his function, but his beloved creatures would fulfill it for all the worlds, and therefore he had set their worlds alight, alight with a fire of hope, a hope so profound, so powerful that he himself gained hope in these trials especially all else would be swept before this world not created by him alone. This world of trophies was not his own. He allowed it, for nothing can be evil without free will, and the free will of his creations he would not violate, but why then? For potential beauty. When beings choose, he thought, of their own will to do good and be beautiful it was a much greater good and far greater beauty than if they were jailed in chains and stupidity, thus he was stayed by his own will, and he hope the good would prevail. Let us see how they choose.
The sky had suddenly cleared, and the sun shone with all it's splendor, at high noon it melted the clouds with great justice. He thought of ways to bide his time, he could not sleep, it was no natural time for that, and there must be someone to keep watch now that he had a party and fire to guard, yet she rested soundly. He looked at her serene face once more, wrapped in his cloak by the fire, but quickly turned away, a slight shade of red creeping up his face as he swallowed, he could hardly think like this. He gave a sapped, embarrassed smile which was soon dropped to somberness when he sensed the other presence so close, and jumping to his feet he naturally came to second position, he put his hand near his sword and scanned the treeline, moving upwards.
Curiosity was enough to move her this far. She had slowly crept through the trees elegantly, acrobatically, silently. She had reached her destination to find them, who? Sheik decided her curiosity had gotten the better of her lately, so she observed from the - what she thought was - safety of the trees. First she saw the girl's face, something about it was very familiar to her, and she felt a burning feeling as she stared, trying to make sense of it all, then he turned. Her heart pounded, she could feel the blood rushing, it ran cold, something chilled her and - No! This situation is too dangerous, but I must know of her. She slowly started to creep away when he stood rapidly, she had no choice but to be still as she was slowly found, inevitable! She flew from the tree just as Marth found her hiding spot. They both drew their blades in silent and deft fashion, Marth taking on a back stance with a strong base, very relaxed with his sword hand in front, while Sheik assumed low-high hand and forward position, blade hand back and angled down, but a sudden sense of indecision flooded her.
After a decidedly awkward period neither decided to attack, Marth broke the silence, his own flow disrupted for a moment, “What have you decided in this?” She glared at him, immediately acquiring a distaste of him as she did to all her opponents, but something was in his eyes, something that crushed her attempts at her own battle trance, her shoulders relaxed as she was lost for a moment in a sea of blue, a trick she decided, regaining her reflective ability, rushing forward, confusion and fear and apprehension and second guessing seized her, but it was too late, where was his blade?
“Soko da,” She heard him say softly, his blade already sheathed, instead he was unarmed, and she realized almost too late where she thought had exposed her vulnerability thinking he was still armed. She leapt suddenly, but he dashed forward, coming to the inside of her guard and barely missing the blade, his forearm slammed in to hers, flinging the Wakizashi out wide, his other fist shot apace into her floating rib, and an unexpected pain coursed through her. Stopped cold she touched the ground for a moment before he swept her legs out, working with her center of gravity and nearly whipping her to the ground, he held her bruised arm and put a knee atop the broken rib.
“Ak-k- h-ha - I - s-stop. . .” The pain stopped her from forming words properly, and her arms and legs were unresponsive and useless.
Suddenly the pain seemed to lessen, and his voice drifted with the silk of soothing and serious. “Your opponents eyes are where you most easily get lost in your defense.” She opened her eyes suddenly at his closeness, she was met with those piercing blue eyes again, her mind faltered and fumbled, he had such a wonderful smell. She turned red, then she felt cold steel on her hurt rib and she shut her eyes tight and tried to squirm free, but to no avail. The pain flew from her completely, and she relaxed, somehow exhausted she breathed heavily, a new course theorizing itself.
“Please master, wou-” Sheik opened her eyes and was met with surprise, he stood above her, hand extended in offering. Still heated, now embarrassed she sat up sharply and slapped his hand away, pulling her cowl and head wrappings loose she panted, then gave a defeated yet confused look to him. She turned away from Marth, trying to hide her face, but she was encountered with Zelda. They stared at one another in shock, neither of them sure at what.
“Ehm,” Marth bashfully interjected, his previous tone and flow gone, looking aside with his hand on the back of his neck. “Forgive me, but,” He turned his gracious face to them and flowers from the landscape behind him seemed to bloom with glow and radiance, “A-are we to introduce ourselves, so that our company would find name?” Zelda leaned against the tree as she stood, still holding his cloak tight. Sheik stood as well, cautious about her rib at first. He bowed and held his head down and spoke without the slightest hint of presumption or arrogance. “I am. . .” He opened his eyes and blinked in slight confusion, “Marth, and I assume we are all in much the same position in our knowledge of this land and of ourselves?” He straightened himself out.
“I am Zelda. . .” She loosened the cloak about her, “And I believe you are correct, but. . .” She held a hand to her cheek put a finger across her mouth as sun shafts coalesced around her, and she looked at Sheik, who blinked curiously in response.
“Aa - I am - to my knowledge – Sheik? It is so, Zelda, but I feel I have some sort of odd and natural connection with you.” Sheik had a certain expertise for perception, and her apprehension of before was cast off - all too quickly by her measurement, but it couldn't be helped.
The air was electric from their interaction, the charm they gave off was near tangible to Sheik. Perhaps there is something to be desired in nobility, but disregard that, me, our company here is fast, but I, wary be.
Suddenly, their was a groaning and a creaking. “Excuse me,” Marth put a hand on his stomach. The others stomachs chimed in as well. “Please, allow me the first meal,” He urged the others to sit by the fire, he said he had provisions. “Ah - here,” he produced a large water reserve and cooking pot from seemingly nowhere, and twirling the pan he took a few strong gulps. “Drink,” the same resolute look as he held the jar towards them.
Zelda took the jar with a thanks, to Marth and her goddess, cool drink at last. “Mmh, isn't this sort of like an indirect kiss?” Sheik said in an aside and winked at Zelda, who promptly choked and looked away, wide eyed and jaw set froze, the other snatching the jar away. She knew her feelings, thinking she could leverage that in some way, it almost felt natural, as if it was Sheik's design. Strangely when she delivered the raillery to the other she felt a leap in her own chest.
“Milady?”
“I'm. . . I'm fine,” through coughs and wiping at her tears.
“Are you,” Sheik said amusedly.
“Nn. . . oh, it's - it's quite alright.”
“This is confusing, what game are you playing at?” Marth questioned.
“Oh, just games. . . sorry,” Sheik tried to withdraw, a sheepishness entering her, then a pleased mumble, “I wasn't expecting that much of a reaction.”
The pot hissed loudly and a mouth-watering scent bathed the area, raising a new chorus of rumblings. “Maybe I should have prepared something simpler, it will take some time - forgive me if you cannot bear it. . .” He sat, crossed his legs before the fire, and began to stir the pot.
“Zelda,” Sheik said tentatively, arms wrapped around her legs “do you remember anything of where you came?”
Zelda looked up to the sky, “oh, yes, it was very nice, I was standing in a field near a ranch, there where many lands, besides the field that is, a desert, icy mountains, a forest, but I don't remember them all, and I loved my people.” She said the last with a blithe smile.
Sheik nodded, “I remember the desert more than anything, I come from the same land, just now to tell you,” she looked away quickly in thought. Zelda hid her face with her hair and did likewise.
“Marth, what about your land?” Zelda spoke uneasily.
Marth spoke unaffectedly, “it's scenery was swathed in fire - war - the fell dragon Medeus - but all that pain and suffering was wiped away,” he motioned to his sheathed rapier, “by this and a companion shield, like a seal of some sort from great Naga, the seal of my beloved world.” There was a precarious pause. “Well then,” he hesitated, unsure of where to go, but his anchor betrayed that they might remember these at least, “have you practiced any arts of combat?”
“My desert sisters taught me to move in a whirl, Sufi and Tahtib, Hahine-ninjutsu, I think they were,” Sheik said plainly, not expecting understanding from either.
“Oh, even though we may be worlds apart, we know similar arts then,” Marth said, “Fechtschule or Escrime or was it Scherma? That was my first school, Tenshin Kenjutsu, Gatka, ah, and the way of the Lodestar, which mostly eludes me,” he said that last with a sigh, glad the tension had retreated. “In my school, there was a historical figure, he fought around two hundred duels to the death. He lost desire to win with folded steel, so he took a wooden sword for the last few then died of old age.”
“You must have had well disciplined troops,” Sheik smirked, “none of which could stand against one who, unarmed, destroyed a castle after entering it as she pleased, she who led two sisters to deal with three hundred in their sleep.”
“Oh, I wonder how dealt they those men to sleep, surely my men would not fall for such temptations,” his return stare seemed far too innocent.
“E-EH? That. . . you sneaky - you sly - . . . !” She gained a confused and annoyed edge as her cheeks flared, caught unawares.
“Hmm? Did I say something unsavory?” He put on an innocuous, thoughtful look. Zelda finally laughed a bit at that. “We did have quite a few women in our army too, an expert pegasus rider for one I barely remember.”
“Well, I don't practice in the physical arts, Magic is my strength.”
“So, that's how my hip was healed?”
“No, my blade, Falchion, has special properties as well, a healing power,” Marth tapped his sheath. “What sort of magic, your highness?”
She shook her head, “Please, Marth, less formalities, I don't care for them much, and I can preform a bit of cleric work, but with an array of offensive tools as well, perhaps some time. . . ?”
“At your bidding, Zelda,” he was gladdened by her wish, “some memory of telling others similar about familiarity of speech creeps in, but their faces are vague.”
“We do have more differences though, I certainly don't remember anyone in Hyrule with such blue hair,” Sheik stared, doing her best to put forth an alluring air.
“Hmm, my land appears to be the more extravagant then, nothing particular stands out about either of you, sorry to say, Sheik - oh, I mean, that's not to say that - well, nothing odd that is.” He flushed with a little embarrassment and his eyes became distant with thought. The other became still more eager with this, confident in her wiles but furthermore embarrassed herself, for her company's amiability and manner had planted a seed of high regard. Marth suddenly inhaled, “You're not a Manakete, are you, Zelda?”
“A what?” She started at him.
“No, then. A dragon-person, the reason I asked is because of your ears, they remind me of - oh, what was her name?”
“I'm not even sure I know what a dragon is. This is odd, I can see the reason for your frustration, all this suddenly, it can't be coincidence that three people with such little knowledge would find each other, even more outlandish this; we are separated by worlds, how is it so! Thinking about it makes me drowsy, I'm suspicious and uncomfortable.” Zelda unfurrowed her brow and sighed. “Sorry, I hate sounding like a princess or anything, but still this doesn't sit well.”
“I don't care, but I feel the same,” Sheik mumbled.
Marth looked up through the clouds, “then let's keep it off for a day,” and silence.
“It is done,” Marth had nearly forgot about this meal, making himself jump. Looking around he saw a large, pyramidal rock about two meters tall and proclaimed plainly, “this should do.”
“Marth, how will we-” Zelda stopped short as he squat down and wrapped his arms around it, lifting it with a great grunt, walked a few yards closer to the fireplace, and flipped it into the ground, the tip precisely piercing the earth. The bottom was nearly completely flat, a suitable table. Both sat still, mouths slightly agape.
“Wh-what? . . .” Marth turned aside slightly in retreat. I don't remember being so abashed, where is all my confidence? Fie, confidence proves nothing, but what was I expecting, even if it was a practical flaunt?
“N-nothing, may we eat?” Zelda spoke in a shaky voice and a wry smile. Suddenly the new top of their table was cleared and set with wooden bowls, and the stones they sat on were moved closer, they both nearly lost their balance. Marth poured out the contents for their bowls. Sheik's face became of stone itself, while Zelda grew wide eyed, before them was a feast, a soup of barley, large beans, minced beef, carrots and celery, various herbs and other vegetables.
“Thank you for the food,” Sheik put her hands together and bowed slightly, while Zelda just continued. Marth watched in curiosity.
“Please, Zelda, eat, you can't run on an empty stomach,” he said it with amazing charm and a smile, the flowers behind him seemed like spring again. Zelda, with a broken and flushed face, was just about to pick up the bowl when Marth grabbed her hand. She looked into his eyes with even more shock as he leaned towards her.
“Close, I wouldn't want to risk my companion's life, I should have thought of that before I put this in, but it has more earthiness this way,” Marth held up a bay leaf he had picked from her bowl.
“O-oh, thank you.” She managed an relieved smile, then she was reminded of his proximity, Marth was still leaning towards her, he soon realized and quickly withdrew, trying to hide his burning face behind his bowl of soup, she did the same.
Here in this land are powers unfathomable, I have witnessed each awaken, more of the terrain mysteriously appearing, we where here in the beginning, right Kirby?
“Yes! It was so pretty, and some of the things it made where even delicious!”
What did we see then? Oh yes, we where on a hill, a great tree before us! You recognized him, Whispy Woods, but he wasn't well, was he?
“No, but now he's better! Early there wasn't much land, nope, Just us!”
That's right, but now there's more land, and Whispy Woods is happy again, there's even a sky, air, water, weather, isn't it grand?
“Yeah! I'm so glad we're here, it's all very pretty, sometimes it snows and the north is full of pine and hardy things, sometimes the sun shines brightly after a nice rain, and the south has so many pretty flowers and soft things, sometimes there's a nice cool wind after eating supper apples, you called it an ocean breeze from the east, and. . . the west?”
The west, a strange land. The little we see from the sun setting is beyond understanding, we don't know, we may never know, when we look out there we don't see anything, when we look, there is no void, but we just don't remember anything.
“Maybe someone will wake up soon, and give that land light too, just like in the past, I hope, I know it'll happen.”
It was borne in bright awakening. It was a plain and marsh like the pools and the Isle of Avalon where good King Arthur took his rest; where the Magician's Niece and Nephew greeted the dawn and destruction of worlds; the gateway of all creations. But the Master Hand at once in creation chose a manifestation of his power and glory that would be apparent to few but those with great conscious ability. A sprawling complex, though not overly so, its intricacies greater than any Sagrada Familia, more powerful than any Heorot in its completion.
Before them stood the great tree, larger than they had ever seen, great fruits and dangerous spike balls were visible through the foliage. “The tree of trees, as it were. I duly comprehend my past experiences with this tree, is it Whispy Woods then?” The tree shook itself at its name, and a great fruit fell before them. “Many thanks for your generosity good friend, it will not be forgotten.” Ganondorf stalked over, suddenly punching through the fruit he consumed it at a frightening pace. “I don't suppose you could spare another more suitable for my scale and dietary needs?” Almost instantly a smaller fruit fell before him, he picked it up and brought it to his mask where is mouth would predictably be with a bite mark appearing and a crunching sound.
“Are you eating through your mask?!” Falco gave him an incredulous look.
He dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “Ally Falco, your eyesight is of far greater magnitude than ours, would you climb to the top of our other great ally here and help us discern what course of action would be best?” Meta-Knight motioned towards the tree.
“You want me to climb on Yggdrasil over there without answering my question?” Falco didn't wait for an answer, and crouching down for a moment he jumped out of sight.
“Hmm, yet he complies,” Meta Knight put a hand to his nonexistent chin. “Ganondorf, I am curious as always, therefore if it is not to your chagrin, what would the land you come from be called?”
Ganondorf glanced at him and wiped his mouth with his arm, “Hyrule.” he seemed to struggle with the words.
“Then may I ask what is troubling you?”
Ganondorf produced a deathly glare, “I know as if I should hate you, while I should hate everything, similar to I should not be so kind or friendly now, while I should be killing without mercy. I should be completely maligned, yet I'm not.” He spoke blatantly without changing his serious expression, a conflict raging within.
They sat in silence near the fire, the sky turning dark. “I'll think of something,” Marth spoke sleepily, he was slowly nodding off. He jumped up suddenly and shook himself, but his eyes said volumes, he was extremely tired. The other two looked at each-other, “I - I, ah, I'll take first guard,” Marth said.
“Oh no, you're the least rested, I wouldn't trust you with first guard anyways, the night is for the kunoichi, not the lords.” Sheik approached Marth cautiously, Zelda following behind.
“But-”
“Marth, please, I had a fine enough rest those few hours, I can take first watch while you two sleep,” Zelda held a motherly concern in her eyes.
“You-” Marth looked contended.
“If you won't go willingly, I'll just be forced to put down your rebellion,” Sheik smiled at him deviously. Marth crossed his arms and looked away uneasily, appearing ready to offer another attempt.
“Well, fine, but I'll have trouble accepting this.” Marth still stood tall, looking between them. Sheik just pointed to the ground, Zelda appeared with Marth's pack which he took as he lowered himself cautiously. He fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the ground, his breathing suddenly shallow.
“That was fast,” Sheik said surprisedly. Zelda handed her her head wraps, retrieved from Marth's pack, “my thanks, now where should I lay my head, here?” Sheik was nearly as tired as Marth, falling asleep almost instantaneously as she lay a few feet away. Zelda puffed and brushed a lock of hair from her face. She had no more need of Marth's cloak, that might change she thought, she simply had removed all of her cold metal jewelry and let her hair flow around her shoulders. This would be a long night she thought. She opened her palm and a small green light emitted from it, maybe she could use this chance to remember something more.
Only a short time later a bored Zelda who discovered next to nothing sat as concentrations of energy floated about her. She jumped and let out a small yelp when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She quickly spun around, her surprise quickly turning to annoyance, “D-don't do that!” She said in a hushed voice. A curious expression then, “why are you two awake?” Marth was snuffing the fire and scattering the warmth as he yawned.
“Ah we just thought how silly we where, the night is warm enough that we don't need the fire, but I'll place some catalyst and save some coals if the need suddenly arises,”
“We both woke up and I realized it would probably be better if we just kept a low profile and all went to sleep at the same time,”
“Your proximity is what woke me up,” Marth's face was shadowed and serious.
“H-hey, I knew as soon as you did what I was doing,” Sheik waved her arms in front of her. Marth turned away quickly and set himself down, the area now dark.
Zelda grabbed Marth's cloak and lay down slowly, picking out the ideal spot in the darkness, Sheik did the same. “We'll see each other during the watch, then I hope? Goodnight,” Marth spoke wistfully. Soon the sun was no more, the moon barely shone, and they were all enveloped by sleep.
She was the first to awaken in the pitch black of night, rubbing her eyes and stretching as a familiar sense washed over her. After the first sleep comes the watch, a time of wakefulness. One's mind has an overwhelming sense of calm during this time, memories and images from it are incredibly vivid, but somehow fuzzy. Zelda sat up and gazed into the distance, the night, in her view, was supremely perfect, except something was off, her eyes shone as she locked onto something. It lacked depth, its manner shadowy, nearly light-less, it was nothing more than a gray outline, but it moved in an uncanny manner. The shape floated across the ground as it moved back in forth, it jerked, changing is posture suddenly as it had so many times already, eerily just beyond distinction yet so tangible, yet she felt no fear, she felt nearly nothing. It disappeared behind a tree far off. There was movement beside her, someone else waking for the watch, he was close, “Zelda's eyes are very big,” Marth dreamily spoke as propped himself up, turning to her.
“Marth's too, there really blue,” she leaned closer to examine them. “I've been thinking,” she trailed off.
“That's not unusual for the watch,” he nodded, thankful that she couldn't see him blush.
“Even though we're from lands far away, lands never heard of, we can still understand our language, concepts, culture, but we don't know how we came here.” She backed off a little. “I think our next priority in the morning should be that.” She then seemed to lock in an internal battle, a few words struggling out, “Marth, sorry for. . . I do not know,” then her lips where loosed, “I feel like I've betrayed some unspoken word, when I ran to you it was as if my mind was being removed from me, normally detached and not so ruled by whatever directed me.”
“I empathize, I feel like we're at war,” He looked away, “we sho-” he suddenly stopped, Zelda moved behind him and followed his eyes, it was back.
“Oh, I saw that when I woke up,” it seemed to turn towards them and grow thinner, he slowly sat up and a sudden intensity was in the air. Zelda pressed herself against him, fear piercing the bubble of calm. Suddenly it vaporized before them, fading into nothingness. She breathed in his soothing smell, the calm returning she relaxed her grip on his shirt, the fear passed and her mind went completely blank.
“That was-” he cut himself short, looking down at her sudden intimacy, his face giving sudden realization. “Wh-where are you. . . ?” he added shakily.
“My my, just what are you two doing?” A third voice chimed in suggestively.
Zelda seemed to come back to reality at this, “eh?” Sheik suppressed laughter as the other quickly withdrew, Marth and Zelda's faces troubled through the darkness. “S-sorry I-I didn't under-understand what I-I wasn't thinking-I uhm.”
“No, but - fufufu - what - ehehh - where you really doing?” Sheik could barely speak through her suppressed laughter.
“Watching that,” Marth replied darkly, it was closer now.
“What is-” Sheik's eyes went wide as Marth placed his hands over their mouths and drew them close, everything went perfectly still, including it. The thing seeming to examine the area before it as it slowly turned as if on a carousel. Once again it passed over, moving closer, jerking and twisting, heading for the extinguished fire pit only a few meters away. It stared at the pit for some time, a guttural noise snaking up from within it, it ran an appendage through the charred remains, it made a piercing noise when the fire flared to life before it, the preset fuels igniting. All at once its already vague features turned to that of rage as it scattered and fled into nothingness. None of them knew how to respond to what happened. A tear dropped onto his hand, Zelda's face was somehow confused and somehow expressionless, but that would not change her watery eyes.
“Hak-uh, a-I'm sorry, this isn't like me. . . ,” she choked back her tears.
Sheik leaned across and embraced her, her whole body shaking, “this isn't like us,” she said, “that thing won't scare us again,” she looked up at Marth, “right?”
“It won't,” he joined their embrace, and calm once again sheltered them. Zelda suddenly wished she could stay like this forever, these were her friends, the only people she knew.
A long time passed, “I don't wanna let go. . .” Sheik conjured up her cutest voice, “I'm getting kinda tired,” she looked at them with twinkling eyes and a far too innocent expression, “W-we should stay close, for protection, like this?” A short pause, and both Marth and Zelda withdrew slightly and lay down.
“Goodnight,” they said together. Sheik grew a cross expression.
“Haaa, come on! You're no fun,” she blew an exasperated puff and slowly laid down. “Goodnight,” she said, seeming unwilling to admit her content. People like these Sheik thought with a smile as she closed her eyes, friends like these.
A few seconds later their imaginations ran wild as a strong wind rustled the trees, creating phantom sounds. They convened again, “P-perhaps it would be best if we stayed close,” Zelda stammered softly.
“Falcon. . .” Luigi barely heard it in time, jumping away from the door. “KIIICK!” The wood shattered and flew away from the blazing move. His flaming foot was a sight to behold, the image of a falcon forming before him.
King Koopa breathed in the air, a glorious smell filled his nose, the smell of the sea, the sand on his feet, and the burning forest behind him. He set down at last.
Comfort, her first thought, comfort, a hypnotizing rise and fall, synchronized in counterpoise, exhaling at each inhale and inhaling at each exhale. A steady drumbeat, her cheek pressed as another wave lapped the shore, a peaceful dreamless night, ended with more peace, a calm joy for this simplicity, with no understanding, with no want of guile or subtleties. Perception grew, there were arms around her, she was being held, sheltered. She flung her eyes wide open, one dark as its eyelashes brushed into the fabric of his collar. Marth, she breathed the name, all the symptoms of an impassioned heart came suddenly, her mind reeled, her chest beat hard, she scrambled for escape, yet couldn't move, shaking with an foreign emotion, wrestling with a shrouded foe.
Numbness most full, a curious thing being senseless yet warm, came to him, a wave of afterglow slipped into his mind, and his first wandering thoughts, his usual nobility, were shattered under this one unifying account. He thought about her, had she called his name? Marth felt the sunlight warm, his discernment localized the numbness, his arms shot waves of alert of the cradling, and he snapped his eyes open. As soon as he saw her golden and brown hair his heart was seized with what felt like great pain but he knew to be exhilaration, but, his reaction was stopped cold, and a near dread filled him, she was also awake, and he hoped she didn't notice.
Zelda noticed the slight jolt, and the same fear reared in her mind as well, was he giving witness? She tried to lay in total stillness, but she couldn't help her anxiety, nor he his.
How to resolve this situation? Sheik mused with a smirk, standing off to the side, they might as well stay like that forever, I am a little jealous though.
Marth thought over and over of what to do, but his intellect seemed to fail him, and at last the gentle nudge of frustration pushed his excitement off the cliff. “Zelda,” he blurted, they both froze, “are you awake?” A hesitation.
“M-maybe,” she said, voice muffled, making no motion. Another pause.
“Well, when you wake up. . .” Marth tried to take a deep breath, “would you mind. . . I can't move.”
“Neither can I. . .”
“Uh. . .” he swallowed hard “Why not?”
“. . . Your arms”, Zelda said bashfully.
Marth had held her closely, and soon realizing this he threw his arms out to the sides.
Zelda planted her hands on either side of him. Her arms shook, slowly lifting herself. Finally steadying her elbows, the sunlight seemed enhanced in its brilliance, like a pastel or watercolor, a romantic or expressionist scene, they locked eyes, and their previous tensions seemed to melt in an instant, they smiled widely at each-other.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she replied. After a moment all the previous tension returned, all their mutual shyness shuffled back in.
“Good morning!” said Sheik rather loudly, a wry grin plastered on to her face.
Zelda jumped to her feet, stumbling away as her foot dared to give out, her head knocked into a tree, to which she plainly proclaimed “ow,” then standing and rubbing her head. Marth attempted to sit up, and all at once the compressed nerves met a wall of opposition, the involuntary muscles in his torso and thighs contracting and wracking him with a lightning pain. Through a sheer act of will he stretched the opposite way of the straining meat, and in another instant it was gone, and he rolled to his knees. After a moment of groping in his pack, he extracted the water supply, drinking and spilling a fair deal on himself.
As he panted, Sheik glared and snickered, Zelda was massaging her forehead. He stood slowly, carefully. He saw Zelda's eyes glance and look away, and Sheik's smirk stopped, her gaze shifting downward. He turned and went away quickly.
“Cooled off?” Sheik said. He gritted his teeth, straining his mind to one single, fiery point of focus as he was preparing a simple meal of bread, cheese, and water and while they ate. He was glad for this ability to halt his wandering mind and contemplate, to stand as an outsider, with an innocent curiousness he could look in, as it was his reprieve, his refuge from the restless pursuit of some goal he felt at hand, some objective ever present in the world outside.
After they had eaten, Marth directed the conversation. “Last night, during the watch, Zelda and I agreed our first order, to discover through whom we have come to this place. I may have a clue”. He proceeded to tell them of the plaque and the cryptic message it relayed. “This most certainly is well planned, but I suppose we must determine what purpose the designer has.”
“Wait, I saw something similar, it was written in Hylian, almost natural to the tree it was engraved in,” Zelda held a stern expression. “In banquet hall it is consummated, greeting and joy.”
“Mine was on a stone slab: 'Legends gathered, as bulwark against the unwelcomed.'” Sheik said, “Ominous, what now?”
“East,” Marth said slowly, standing and walking swiftly, “do you hear. . .” eyes trying to focus on something. Sheik caught up to him, “. . . that noise?”
“Slow down!” they said, Zelda running up.
“I - I don't know,” he slowed, locking himself in resistance, “I can feel. . . the same despair. . .”
Zelda ran in front of the two, stopping them, “stand close, we can hear it too,” she said, the same stern face on her. The other two took a beat, then did as instructed, Marth genuflected by a force pushing him down. She put her hands over her chest and closed her eyes, the Triforce symbol on her hand glowing, a transparent blue curtain formed, she opened her arms and drew the other two into the expanding curtain, a look of peace came over her, softening her features, and opening her eyes, they shone gold. Sheik's hand glowed the same as well, Marth shook in place, head bent low. The light faded. Raising his eyes to them, I am at peace, a surprising, internal statement, it was not cold or rigid, it was relaxed, it was all four loves at once, a warm light pulsing in his intellect. He stood, the sky was gray save a single shaft of blue and sun.
Sheik exhaled, “Nayru's Love.” Zelda looked at her, astounded.
“We are the same, but we are. . .” Taking their hands together, the symbol still alight.
“The same?” Marth said.
“The same. . . person, we're one in being. . . you know?”
He shook his head solemnly. He watched both of their faces fall suddenly, both blanched stark white and frozen, wide eyed, his heart sank at a pitted feeling came to his stomach. When Sheik's hand went for her wakizashi he took the cue and went for his sword as well, shooting a leg back and turning on his heels, they all moved fluidly. Zelda's magic flared to life, a wind swept at her command, a subtle green ribbon flowing around her. Before them was the horror that had faced them in the night, less definite in form, more mist than substance, a sound was coming from it, subtle and harrowing, at last a mad tinnitus. Hard shadows writhed in it, sculpting a vague face, the only part with depth, blank eye sockets, a hollow mouth, a swept back forehead that ended in a crescent formed by elongated temples, a jutting and pointed chin. Black spots with deep purple fringe and tendrils began flowing from its mouth as it skulked backwards, a shrill, throaty, hating sound breathed from it. It faded, but its spawn remained. The purple amalgamation rose, the outline formed a slumped head, shoulders and arms drawing from the pool, the mass bleeding off it. The brusque musculature rippled as it finally stood three feet above them, two beady red eyes and milky whites were the only feature of its face, it was harsh angles and fierce looks, and its skin was a dark blue that carried some of the depthlessness, just enough to hurt the eyes after staring for too long. It wore a solid olive beret and a singular jerkin of the same color, and heavy and snubbed brown boots with rugged gloves in bold, fleshy contrast with the angularity and harshness of its skin.
The last shadow bugs absorbed into the Primid, and it surged forward with the sleek bestiality of instinct and a cold combination of intelligence, confident and indifferent. It brought a fist forward out of its stride, lunging for the blue enemy before it with the opposite knee leading, a dull glare in its eyes. Sheik gained its outside, delivering two large upstroke slashes to its tricep and forearm, sidling to gain its back. Marth leapt backwards and to the inside of its arm, the biting tip of Falchion falling into its knee as the Primid's advance was halted. Zelda's thrust her arms forward, the green ribbon around them, and a cutting gust caught it full in the chest, driving the wind and armor from it and pushing it back. The Primid barely took a beat, and swung its still extended arm in a back fist at Sheik, using it as dead weight, its damaged muscles refusing response, she ducked towards his back and leg, the fist sailing over her, the Wakizashi lashed against its latissimus, followed quickly by a sharp jab of her open fingers into where the kidney would presumably be. He was opened wide then, Marth stepped forward, and gripping the blade with both hands, shifted his whole body in a twisting motion with his thrust, burying Falchion half way through its chest, piercing the exposed skin. The Primid hooked its close arm out at Marth, who was pulling his sword, Marth saw it coming long before, just as it came he rolled his head and chin down and away, and put his left arm as a brace and barrier on his head, grabbing his own neck. His resistance was further supported by a blue pane materializing just before the impact, though it promptly shattered as the fist slammed into his arm. Sheik pivoted from her dash and now jumped, plunging her blade straight through its neck armor it stopped cold, she turned the short blade and drew it out a side of its neck, pushing off and away. Marth pulled his blade from the Primid, quickly backing away, and as both cleared a distance, a red, flickering point orb flew into the Primid, exploding at last with a spectacular display, the being dissipated in a conflagration then, as it was knocked high into the sky, its own secondary explosion colorful like that of a firework, a sound and crack like the warping of a large sheet of metal and a shimmer of lined chimes.
“That was the despair.” Zelda shivered, hugging herself, the face haunted them.
“But we fought and won!” Sheik said, Sheathing her blade and approaching the other.
“Everything is so odd,” She drew inward further, “it's so odd.” Her face was cold, strained, indifferent, the others glanced at each other in worry.
“Zelda. . .” He didn't know what else to offer.
“Who are you, talking like that, aren't you supposed to be wise?”
Her face softened and loosened, she looked at them. “Yes, we won, and we will win. Now we have to consider the plan of evil,” then sighing, “hope gives two things, anger and courage. I'm certainly angry at how things are, but I need the courage to change them,” and she stared forward, seeming to gather strength, then she slumped again and said to them, “let me lean on you for a while.” They quickly obliged, they had little choice lest they let her fall to the ground. “Sheik, Marth, you give me something important, serenity, to accept those things I cannot change.”
“You can count on me, er, yourself, myself, I mean – oh you know what I mean,” she grinned helplessly.
“We will pierce the veil,” he said.
Zelda smiled gaily, and she skipped away from them, the world had become vibrant, alive, the afterglow of a few choice moments out shined the bleakness of their recent encounter, it spilled over into her present and future, “I think I found my courage.”
Sheik gave a knowing wink when Marth looked to her, then in a quiet, delightful voice to him, she said “me too.” He quickly went about packing camp to occupy himself, his mind racing, the others joined quickly.
When they had finished, Marth said, “east, the mountains of the north abruptly end, most likely in a body of water, and in between a river, we can travel the coast as well.” He was heartened, action had his favor.
“I noticed we didn't have much water left after you spilled it all over yourself,” Sheik elbowed him, and then whispered in his ear, her face aglow “it's not all I noticed.”
“That – that was . . .” he stopped himself. A startling sound came from far off, the direction they intended to go, a trumpet, it was light, played on the air, gentle, but it carried far, all the taiga around them seemed to silence at its melody, a melody of soothing and yearning. A reverberation played through as it stopped for a rest, then picked up again, and the wind blew.
The stone hall shook, a breeze whipped through it, a groan, creaking, not quite alive, but something different. Bright light intruded around the edges of her visor, her vision mostly that of a concrete floor, her power suit beginning to react to her biological functions. As soon as it powered up a wave of knowledge rushed over her through it, who she was, how to work the suit, parts of her past, but how did she get wherever she was now? She pushed herself from the ground, planting her feet under and scanning the environment. Her scanner told her of the large sized yet brightly lit chapel, some architectural lingo, not much help though it was. She walked unsteadily from the aisle, grasping at last the door she steadied herself. Pushing it open in the slight, she carefully scanned the surrounding area, it zoomed in on the far end of the hall. There was an orange, floating being, with a large mouth and wide grin, curious yellow eyes, it ended in the air, a wavy line surrounded its base. She scanned it. Scan Complete: Ghost, when light is suddenly shone on it, its heart becomes visible and it freezes, the hostile can then be dispersed or captured in the short window of time created. Logbook entry updated. That really helps, she thought, something must be wrong with her suit. It didn't matter, she fought tougher looking Chozo ghosts before..
It was a narrow band, clearly cut out from the pine walls, from the soft dirt and grass, a border of large stone was its bed and shallow depression, its lifeblood a crystal clarity that showed the sun through to shine on the array of stone that ran through as its own stream, an unmoving stream of round and red rocks, speckled with whites and pores, of blunted blue-green with curious shape flaring and sporting quartz, of a clear pale ghost of stone. The creek flowed rapidly, raging in a sudden strip of foothills from the mountain's snowy peaks, enhanced with the shine of the sun at its zenith. His fingers tips graced the water, it was pleasing in moderate temperature, it caused his nerves to sing with an odd, pure sensation, not dulled by cold or relaxed by heat. She lay down next to him, her finger wrappings and forearm guards undone, drinking her fill of the water.
“I feel power in this place,” said Zelda who at last had caught up from when they ran ahead.
“This water is delicious, with the ability to quench the heart, my whole body is tingly, mmh,” Sheik swallowed another handful.
“This world. . . much of it seems too perfect, I look out at the horizon on a steep grade, there is a grandeur, now when I see this. . .” Marth trailed off. Zelda collapsed at last, her legs giving in from hours of walking.
“Look here!” Sheik said excitedly, the others hurried to join her, and they all examined close the etched words: “All ye creation touched by this water shall have fire born in thee, strength of body returned, the fortitude of a mountain and the effortlessness of breath.” She said, “I suspect there's substance to these promises.”
As Zelda gazed at the water her eyes lit, she conjured Din's Fire, and set a wall of heat at a mouth narrowing in the stream as it poured into a small side basin before passing through another mouth and rejoining swiftly downward. Steam rose slowly from the water, “I wish to bathe. Would you stay close? Please? Just in case.”
“. . . I will.” He mounted the font and dropped behind the ledge, “you trust these, whatever force is behind this?”
“Well. Yes. Yes, we do.” Zelda said resolutely.
Sheik's paddings and wrappings dropped away, “ugh, these stupid bindings start hurting after a while. What are you waiting for?”
“I want to see what happens.”
“What happens to me? What's better than first hand?”
“It is first hand,” Zelda said.
“I see,” Sheik stood above the pool and tested the water. She stepped down up to her knees, the feeling was nearly unbearable. She stood getting slowly used to the feeling.
“Is something wrong?” Zelda asked nervously.
“No, it feels – it feels wonderful.”
Wonderful? How so? Zelda was more perplexed as Sheik sunk into the water.
“This feels amazing! You're missing out,” she made an array of slightly suggestive sounds.
Zelda's shoulder's slumped, she looked at her with empty eyes, “you shouldn't be making noises like that.”
“Pf,” Sheik put a hand to her mouth, “I exaggerated a little,” Zelda looked at her with weary haughtiness. “Only a little,” Sheik submerged herself a moment, as she came up she was barraged with her clothes, “hey, join me.”
Zelda's stopped when she was hit by a splash from Sheik, the water felt strange, and suddenly a hunger surfaced in her. She stepped and sat next to Sheik at once.
“Hm? I don't feel any-” it seemed like the breath was knocked out of her, her eyes went wide and then had a drowsy look, she gaped, “O – oh,” her mind was inebriated with unfounded pleasure, she squirmed and clutched her throat, gasping for air.
“You took that worse than me,” Sheik said.
Zelda's only response was to splash water in Sheik's face, the other flinched, Zelda snorted in amusement, an exchange of volleys followed.
“I could use some help here,” Falco crouched behind the tree root.
“I have no ranged attack, I shall wait for them to close distance,” Meta Knight said.
Ganondorf's face contorted, he pushed himself up from the ground, standing tall above and glaring down at the advancing squads of Primids.
Falco stood and unleashed with his dual blasters, his scouter folding a lens over his eyes. “Whatever you're going to do, big guy, do it fast!”
He lift his arm high in the sky, a blazing orb formed as he slowly lifted off the ground, he laughed cruelly and bowled it into a column, annihilating a great deal. He dropped back down in a slump, he looked up at Meta Knight with intense eyes, “go,” he said.
His large bat wings sprung from his cloak and his blade flared into existence, he gave one great heave and observed the advancing group, he saw glaring swords and shoulder fired weapons, most were unarmed, and so he dove at those coming near the natural entrenchment, his blade screeched each time he seemed to go directly through one and looped upwards.
Falco pumped blue lasers continuously, gunning for the gunner Primids first, with each barrage a flare of color erupted from the Primids as they dissipated, and dust came shrieking off the ground.
Greetings, before beginning I must tell you that this story is incomplete, and will most likely remain so. I have been conflicted in the past with sharing what I perceived to be progressing successes and literary failures, and had often deleted outright some of my more embarrassing fanfictions, and I regret this choice wholeheartedly. So now today I come to share with you my most recent work which I have lost passion for, clocking in at about nine thousand and seven hundred words of romance and adventure in the world of Super Smash Brothers. I suspect many will call into question what really was a failure and what wasn't, and for the sake of any critique that comes by, I say the few things that ultimately did me in where Sheik's characterization, the suggestive turn things often took—which I promptly deleted while writing and continued on—and the simple cop-out of amnesia so I didn't have to explain quite a few things, things which I told myself I'd explain later. Enjoy, and please, tell me how to become a better writer, thanks!
Wiping away the dust covered text he read, “What is becometh after you accept His great design and commission?” Strange, it seemed to cut off, even stranger still the incredibly plain but cryptic words. Finding a plaque on a pedestal here is unnerving to be sure, but he took a sense of purpose from it. Fatigue fogged his mind, he knew not where he was, and he hardly knew who he was, just fuzzy memories. He knew how to survive, yes, he knew his name, Marth, his swordplay was second nature and held firm as his anchor. He looked about the landscape and sighed, the title of prince surely had no weight to animals, he thought. Just south there stood pines, and a sudden glimmer, he caught it as he scanned the landscape, a reflection gold in hue. Strange it would seem that he was not alone, and disquieting as it was, he thought, he again took purpose in something odd, the mystery played on his tongue and across his mind.
She was tired, her fatigue great, and an innervated fear was growing in her. She knew who she was, a princess, she knew her name, Zelda, the other limited knowledge she had was of her magic, a staunch defender against the cold, a certain warmth of love, but it was weak and distant. As she looked from the forest onto the plain she saw a blue figure on a hill moving towards her, Golden Goddess praises be, please show thy servant hospitality, I can feel Din's fire fading, the cold is creeping in, I'm losing my reason! Maybe her knight could warm her, however faint the hope seemed, but for now she felt the tiredness nearly paralyzing, for fear of her life she ran, tears welling.
He needed to find rest he knew, hopefully some place much warmer, he thought. Marth shook his head vigorously, Do not forget thy guard and keeping. Renewing his alertness would not prepare him adequately. “Aa-” he was stunned, and watched as Zelda rushed towards him. She was cold and afraid, and wanted to feel safe and warm, and she didn't expect such a base fear and want to overwhelm her. Zelda flung her arms around him and attempted to hold back her tears of frustration, of thankfulness, clenching her teeth with eyes shut tight. Marth came to his sensibilities and embraced her with concern, and a strange warmth and understanding clouded over him. One hand held her head, then he felt her slump in his arms and choke back her tears, breathing shakily. He took his cloak and wrapped them together. felt something leap in his chest he couldn't describe, an incredible comfort and warmth emanating from this powerful spirit with him, it was Din's fire, kindled with the tinder of their Storge - affection. She felt dizzy next to this kind soul, his presence, the natural bond they composed, overwhelmed her slowing thoughts, soothing thus she felt her lethargy consume her, it was a friendly embrace that turned her world black.
Near the center was curious indeed, fog dominated, grass was interrupted with interspersed patches of dead area, some of these had what looked like extremely large roots cresting from the ground, on which three starkly contrasted figures lay.
They woke at once, knowing immediately much the same as everyone else, one with a scowl as he stood tall and ominous, one brushing himself off and straightening his mask, the last looked on in confusion and ruffled his feathers, where could they be? He was just enjoying a wormy reuben in the hangar bay of. . . a ship? Ah well, he felt well fed so he turned his attention to the other two with “So, where we are, you guys know, right?” They both let their eyes on him, one analyzing and unreadable, the other betrayed a dark conflict of hatred, he shuddered and looked away.
“Unfortunately not, we are then in the same circumstances?” The masked one asked matter-of-factly. The other, incredibly tall, clad in dark heavy armor with sandy wear, just observed the landscape and crossed his arms.
The fireplace crackled with sap as his vision slowly focused at ease, a sort of haze as if he hadn't enough repair in his sleep, yet he knew that would soon go away. He was in a long hall to the side of the fireplace, there was furniture and soft candlelight everywhere, yet he could spot more modern luminaries off above. The hall went tall, with arches and keystones, the ground had a long carpet through the middle of the grand way atop which a long and elegant stone table perfectly set and adorned with a simple yet neutral table cloth sat. Master architects placing reliquaries for books, places for candles creating a dim yet comfortably visible atmosphere, rose windows gray from the weather outside, blending smooth cool tone stone brick outlining the floor blue. He reached for his head and felt his hair, something seeming out of place, he turned and saw his hat on an end table, a classic shade of green with a woven look and a perfect “L” in the center. He swung his legs from the ottoman they rested on and stood, stretching and replacing his hat. He nearly jumped out of his overalls when there was a bump from down one of the near side passages, it sounded like a rock on a door. With chattering teeth and quaking legs he tiptoed toward the arch at the passage and peeked out around it, a long hallway slightly less well lit greeting him. He hid himself at the sound again, softer and deliberate, like knocking, yet he would not move, unwilling to risk even the most reasonable of suppositions. The handle jiggled a bit, appearing to be locked, and then a silence. Contradicting himself he slowly crept out from around the corner towards the door.
Quickly coming to his senses he stayed perfectly still. Analyzing the stuffy dark interior of the side room he slowly began running his fingers around, feeling various cleaning implements and other utilities, he knew he was in a cleaning closet, and grumbling at the inexplicability of it all he found the door with an accidental bump. Quickly standing he slowly pressured the handle, and seeing it was locked he knocked for maybe a fortunate passer-by. No such luck, he jiggled the handle around a bit, as if trying to find some special way to open it. He quietly backed away from the door, contemplating his predicament, what could this be? He felt a power course through him as he rubbed his knuckles, a great evil was slew by this fist, the last image and first memory he ever saw before this gave him vindication for he thought he had died, but is this what the inside of a black hole is really like, a cleaning closet? A tiny peep suddenly came from without.
“The world's crown gives of such a pleasant aura, this taiga of the north,” He made sure not to cross his arms into his spikes again
“Poyo poy upoya?”
“Yes, there are more friends out there, but enemies are coming I fear as well,”
“Poy! Poya upa opoyo!” The puff waved his arms with emphasis and a stern look. Lucario just smiled and nodded at that, but Kirby was quite focused on the matter, and gave Lucario a questioning and innocent expression. Rudely interrupting was a growl, loud and from within. Kirby smiled, blushed, and scratched his back, it was his stomach.
Lucario gave him a weak look, then a warm smile. “Hungry, eh?”
There was beauty, beauty beyond comprehension, a grand choir composed of the unreal, the architecture and acoustics molded in perfection in form and purity in essence. There was nothing else for him, only the sound at this moment, the creator of that world felt it, he knew some were there, he knew some of his creations had at last fulfilled their role, set by their loving creator, and he grieved for those that chose to reject his design. But there was a force dark and maligned, completely removed from this realm, separated over vast eternities, known some day to return, return to cast misplaced shadows into creation. This ultimate Joy created by his discipline could not be rivaled by even his dark brother's creations, but that was something they had to find out for themselves, he had pledged to another one, his friend, he would not allow it to unfold with his act of will and would distance himself, and how sad his voices could not speak to them, but he would shed Love and Joy on them from afar, whatever the cost to his chained form, bound by his own laws. The Master Hand knew he would not fulfill his function, but his beloved creatures would fulfill it for all the worlds, and therefore he had set their worlds alight, alight with a fire of hope, a hope so profound, so powerful that he himself gained hope in these trials especially all else would be swept before this world not created by him alone. This world of trophies was not his own. He allowed it, for nothing can be evil without free will, and the free will of his creations he would not violate, but why then? For potential beauty. When beings choose, he thought, of their own will to do good and be beautiful it was a much greater good and far greater beauty than if they were jailed in chains and stupidity, thus he was stayed by his own will, and he hope the good would prevail. Let us see how they choose.
The sky had suddenly cleared, and the sun shone with all it's splendor, at high noon it melted the clouds with great justice. He thought of ways to bide his time, he could not sleep, it was no natural time for that, and there must be someone to keep watch now that he had a party and fire to guard, yet she rested soundly. He looked at her serene face once more, wrapped in his cloak by the fire, but quickly turned away, a slight shade of red creeping up his face as he swallowed, he could hardly think like this. He gave a sapped, embarrassed smile which was soon dropped to somberness when he sensed the other presence so close, and jumping to his feet he naturally came to second position, he put his hand near his sword and scanned the treeline, moving upwards.
Curiosity was enough to move her this far. She had slowly crept through the trees elegantly, acrobatically, silently. She had reached her destination to find them, who? Sheik decided her curiosity had gotten the better of her lately, so she observed from the - what she thought was - safety of the trees. First she saw the girl's face, something about it was very familiar to her, and she felt a burning feeling as she stared, trying to make sense of it all, then he turned. Her heart pounded, she could feel the blood rushing, it ran cold, something chilled her and - No! This situation is too dangerous, but I must know of her. She slowly started to creep away when he stood rapidly, she had no choice but to be still as she was slowly found, inevitable! She flew from the tree just as Marth found her hiding spot. They both drew their blades in silent and deft fashion, Marth taking on a back stance with a strong base, very relaxed with his sword hand in front, while Sheik assumed low-high hand and forward position, blade hand back and angled down, but a sudden sense of indecision flooded her.
After a decidedly awkward period neither decided to attack, Marth broke the silence, his own flow disrupted for a moment, “What have you decided in this?” She glared at him, immediately acquiring a distaste of him as she did to all her opponents, but something was in his eyes, something that crushed her attempts at her own battle trance, her shoulders relaxed as she was lost for a moment in a sea of blue, a trick she decided, regaining her reflective ability, rushing forward, confusion and fear and apprehension and second guessing seized her, but it was too late, where was his blade?
“Soko da,” She heard him say softly, his blade already sheathed, instead he was unarmed, and she realized almost too late where she thought had exposed her vulnerability thinking he was still armed. She leapt suddenly, but he dashed forward, coming to the inside of her guard and barely missing the blade, his forearm slammed in to hers, flinging the Wakizashi out wide, his other fist shot apace into her floating rib, and an unexpected pain coursed through her. Stopped cold she touched the ground for a moment before he swept her legs out, working with her center of gravity and nearly whipping her to the ground, he held her bruised arm and put a knee atop the broken rib.
“Ak-k- h-ha - I - s-stop. . .” The pain stopped her from forming words properly, and her arms and legs were unresponsive and useless.
Suddenly the pain seemed to lessen, and his voice drifted with the silk of soothing and serious. “Your opponents eyes are where you most easily get lost in your defense.” She opened her eyes suddenly at his closeness, she was met with those piercing blue eyes again, her mind faltered and fumbled, he had such a wonderful smell. She turned red, then she felt cold steel on her hurt rib and she shut her eyes tight and tried to squirm free, but to no avail. The pain flew from her completely, and she relaxed, somehow exhausted she breathed heavily, a new course theorizing itself.
“Please master, wou-” Sheik opened her eyes and was met with surprise, he stood above her, hand extended in offering. Still heated, now embarrassed she sat up sharply and slapped his hand away, pulling her cowl and head wrappings loose she panted, then gave a defeated yet confused look to him. She turned away from Marth, trying to hide her face, but she was encountered with Zelda. They stared at one another in shock, neither of them sure at what.
“Ehm,” Marth bashfully interjected, his previous tone and flow gone, looking aside with his hand on the back of his neck. “Forgive me, but,” He turned his gracious face to them and flowers from the landscape behind him seemed to bloom with glow and radiance, “A-are we to introduce ourselves, so that our company would find name?” Zelda leaned against the tree as she stood, still holding his cloak tight. Sheik stood as well, cautious about her rib at first. He bowed and held his head down and spoke without the slightest hint of presumption or arrogance. “I am. . .” He opened his eyes and blinked in slight confusion, “Marth, and I assume we are all in much the same position in our knowledge of this land and of ourselves?” He straightened himself out.
“I am Zelda. . .” She loosened the cloak about her, “And I believe you are correct, but. . .” She held a hand to her cheek put a finger across her mouth as sun shafts coalesced around her, and she looked at Sheik, who blinked curiously in response.
“Aa - I am - to my knowledge – Sheik? It is so, Zelda, but I feel I have some sort of odd and natural connection with you.” Sheik had a certain expertise for perception, and her apprehension of before was cast off - all too quickly by her measurement, but it couldn't be helped.
The air was electric from their interaction, the charm they gave off was near tangible to Sheik. Perhaps there is something to be desired in nobility, but disregard that, me, our company here is fast, but I, wary be.
Suddenly, their was a groaning and a creaking. “Excuse me,” Marth put a hand on his stomach. The others stomachs chimed in as well. “Please, allow me the first meal,” He urged the others to sit by the fire, he said he had provisions. “Ah - here,” he produced a large water reserve and cooking pot from seemingly nowhere, and twirling the pan he took a few strong gulps. “Drink,” the same resolute look as he held the jar towards them.
Zelda took the jar with a thanks, to Marth and her goddess, cool drink at last. “Mmh, isn't this sort of like an indirect kiss?” Sheik said in an aside and winked at Zelda, who promptly choked and looked away, wide eyed and jaw set froze, the other snatching the jar away. She knew her feelings, thinking she could leverage that in some way, it almost felt natural, as if it was Sheik's design. Strangely when she delivered the raillery to the other she felt a leap in her own chest.
“Milady?”
“I'm. . . I'm fine,” through coughs and wiping at her tears.
“Are you,” Sheik said amusedly.
“Nn. . . oh, it's - it's quite alright.”
“This is confusing, what game are you playing at?” Marth questioned.
“Oh, just games. . . sorry,” Sheik tried to withdraw, a sheepishness entering her, then a pleased mumble, “I wasn't expecting that much of a reaction.”
The pot hissed loudly and a mouth-watering scent bathed the area, raising a new chorus of rumblings. “Maybe I should have prepared something simpler, it will take some time - forgive me if you cannot bear it. . .” He sat, crossed his legs before the fire, and began to stir the pot.
“Zelda,” Sheik said tentatively, arms wrapped around her legs “do you remember anything of where you came?”
Zelda looked up to the sky, “oh, yes, it was very nice, I was standing in a field near a ranch, there where many lands, besides the field that is, a desert, icy mountains, a forest, but I don't remember them all, and I loved my people.” She said the last with a blithe smile.
Sheik nodded, “I remember the desert more than anything, I come from the same land, just now to tell you,” she looked away quickly in thought. Zelda hid her face with her hair and did likewise.
“Marth, what about your land?” Zelda spoke uneasily.
Marth spoke unaffectedly, “it's scenery was swathed in fire - war - the fell dragon Medeus - but all that pain and suffering was wiped away,” he motioned to his sheathed rapier, “by this and a companion shield, like a seal of some sort from great Naga, the seal of my beloved world.” There was a precarious pause. “Well then,” he hesitated, unsure of where to go, but his anchor betrayed that they might remember these at least, “have you practiced any arts of combat?”
“My desert sisters taught me to move in a whirl, Sufi and Tahtib, Hahine-ninjutsu, I think they were,” Sheik said plainly, not expecting understanding from either.
“Oh, even though we may be worlds apart, we know similar arts then,” Marth said, “Fechtschule or Escrime or was it Scherma? That was my first school, Tenshin Kenjutsu, Gatka, ah, and the way of the Lodestar, which mostly eludes me,” he said that last with a sigh, glad the tension had retreated. “In my school, there was a historical figure, he fought around two hundred duels to the death. He lost desire to win with folded steel, so he took a wooden sword for the last few then died of old age.”
“You must have had well disciplined troops,” Sheik smirked, “none of which could stand against one who, unarmed, destroyed a castle after entering it as she pleased, she who led two sisters to deal with three hundred in their sleep.”
“Oh, I wonder how dealt they those men to sleep, surely my men would not fall for such temptations,” his return stare seemed far too innocent.
“E-EH? That. . . you sneaky - you sly - . . . !” She gained a confused and annoyed edge as her cheeks flared, caught unawares.
“Hmm? Did I say something unsavory?” He put on an innocuous, thoughtful look. Zelda finally laughed a bit at that. “We did have quite a few women in our army too, an expert pegasus rider for one I barely remember.”
“Well, I don't practice in the physical arts, Magic is my strength.”
“So, that's how my hip was healed?”
“No, my blade, Falchion, has special properties as well, a healing power,” Marth tapped his sheath. “What sort of magic, your highness?”
She shook her head, “Please, Marth, less formalities, I don't care for them much, and I can preform a bit of cleric work, but with an array of offensive tools as well, perhaps some time. . . ?”
“At your bidding, Zelda,” he was gladdened by her wish, “some memory of telling others similar about familiarity of speech creeps in, but their faces are vague.”
“We do have more differences though, I certainly don't remember anyone in Hyrule with such blue hair,” Sheik stared, doing her best to put forth an alluring air.
“Hmm, my land appears to be the more extravagant then, nothing particular stands out about either of you, sorry to say, Sheik - oh, I mean, that's not to say that - well, nothing odd that is.” He flushed with a little embarrassment and his eyes became distant with thought. The other became still more eager with this, confident in her wiles but furthermore embarrassed herself, for her company's amiability and manner had planted a seed of high regard. Marth suddenly inhaled, “You're not a Manakete, are you, Zelda?”
“A what?” She started at him.
“No, then. A dragon-person, the reason I asked is because of your ears, they remind me of - oh, what was her name?”
“I'm not even sure I know what a dragon is. This is odd, I can see the reason for your frustration, all this suddenly, it can't be coincidence that three people with such little knowledge would find each other, even more outlandish this; we are separated by worlds, how is it so! Thinking about it makes me drowsy, I'm suspicious and uncomfortable.” Zelda unfurrowed her brow and sighed. “Sorry, I hate sounding like a princess or anything, but still this doesn't sit well.”
“I don't care, but I feel the same,” Sheik mumbled.
Marth looked up through the clouds, “then let's keep it off for a day,” and silence.
“It is done,” Marth had nearly forgot about this meal, making himself jump. Looking around he saw a large, pyramidal rock about two meters tall and proclaimed plainly, “this should do.”
“Marth, how will we-” Zelda stopped short as he squat down and wrapped his arms around it, lifting it with a great grunt, walked a few yards closer to the fireplace, and flipped it into the ground, the tip precisely piercing the earth. The bottom was nearly completely flat, a suitable table. Both sat still, mouths slightly agape.
“Wh-what? . . .” Marth turned aside slightly in retreat. I don't remember being so abashed, where is all my confidence? Fie, confidence proves nothing, but what was I expecting, even if it was a practical flaunt?
“N-nothing, may we eat?” Zelda spoke in a shaky voice and a wry smile. Suddenly the new top of their table was cleared and set with wooden bowls, and the stones they sat on were moved closer, they both nearly lost their balance. Marth poured out the contents for their bowls. Sheik's face became of stone itself, while Zelda grew wide eyed, before them was a feast, a soup of barley, large beans, minced beef, carrots and celery, various herbs and other vegetables.
“Thank you for the food,” Sheik put her hands together and bowed slightly, while Zelda just continued. Marth watched in curiosity.
“Please, Zelda, eat, you can't run on an empty stomach,” he said it with amazing charm and a smile, the flowers behind him seemed like spring again. Zelda, with a broken and flushed face, was just about to pick up the bowl when Marth grabbed her hand. She looked into his eyes with even more shock as he leaned towards her.
“Close, I wouldn't want to risk my companion's life, I should have thought of that before I put this in, but it has more earthiness this way,” Marth held up a bay leaf he had picked from her bowl.
“O-oh, thank you.” She managed an relieved smile, then she was reminded of his proximity, Marth was still leaning towards her, he soon realized and quickly withdrew, trying to hide his burning face behind his bowl of soup, she did the same.
Here in this land are powers unfathomable, I have witnessed each awaken, more of the terrain mysteriously appearing, we where here in the beginning, right Kirby?
“Yes! It was so pretty, and some of the things it made where even delicious!”
What did we see then? Oh yes, we where on a hill, a great tree before us! You recognized him, Whispy Woods, but he wasn't well, was he?
“No, but now he's better! Early there wasn't much land, nope, Just us!”
That's right, but now there's more land, and Whispy Woods is happy again, there's even a sky, air, water, weather, isn't it grand?
“Yeah! I'm so glad we're here, it's all very pretty, sometimes it snows and the north is full of pine and hardy things, sometimes the sun shines brightly after a nice rain, and the south has so many pretty flowers and soft things, sometimes there's a nice cool wind after eating supper apples, you called it an ocean breeze from the east, and. . . the west?”
The west, a strange land. The little we see from the sun setting is beyond understanding, we don't know, we may never know, when we look out there we don't see anything, when we look, there is no void, but we just don't remember anything.
“Maybe someone will wake up soon, and give that land light too, just like in the past, I hope, I know it'll happen.”
It was borne in bright awakening. It was a plain and marsh like the pools and the Isle of Avalon where good King Arthur took his rest; where the Magician's Niece and Nephew greeted the dawn and destruction of worlds; the gateway of all creations. But the Master Hand at once in creation chose a manifestation of his power and glory that would be apparent to few but those with great conscious ability. A sprawling complex, though not overly so, its intricacies greater than any Sagrada Familia, more powerful than any Heorot in its completion.
Before them stood the great tree, larger than they had ever seen, great fruits and dangerous spike balls were visible through the foliage. “The tree of trees, as it were. I duly comprehend my past experiences with this tree, is it Whispy Woods then?” The tree shook itself at its name, and a great fruit fell before them. “Many thanks for your generosity good friend, it will not be forgotten.” Ganondorf stalked over, suddenly punching through the fruit he consumed it at a frightening pace. “I don't suppose you could spare another more suitable for my scale and dietary needs?” Almost instantly a smaller fruit fell before him, he picked it up and brought it to his mask where is mouth would predictably be with a bite mark appearing and a crunching sound.
“Are you eating through your mask?!” Falco gave him an incredulous look.
He dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “Ally Falco, your eyesight is of far greater magnitude than ours, would you climb to the top of our other great ally here and help us discern what course of action would be best?” Meta-Knight motioned towards the tree.
“You want me to climb on Yggdrasil over there without answering my question?” Falco didn't wait for an answer, and crouching down for a moment he jumped out of sight.
“Hmm, yet he complies,” Meta Knight put a hand to his nonexistent chin. “Ganondorf, I am curious as always, therefore if it is not to your chagrin, what would the land you come from be called?”
Ganondorf glanced at him and wiped his mouth with his arm, “Hyrule.” he seemed to struggle with the words.
“Then may I ask what is troubling you?”
Ganondorf produced a deathly glare, “I know as if I should hate you, while I should hate everything, similar to I should not be so kind or friendly now, while I should be killing without mercy. I should be completely maligned, yet I'm not.” He spoke blatantly without changing his serious expression, a conflict raging within.
They sat in silence near the fire, the sky turning dark. “I'll think of something,” Marth spoke sleepily, he was slowly nodding off. He jumped up suddenly and shook himself, but his eyes said volumes, he was extremely tired. The other two looked at each-other, “I - I, ah, I'll take first guard,” Marth said.
“Oh no, you're the least rested, I wouldn't trust you with first guard anyways, the night is for the kunoichi, not the lords.” Sheik approached Marth cautiously, Zelda following behind.
“But-”
“Marth, please, I had a fine enough rest those few hours, I can take first watch while you two sleep,” Zelda held a motherly concern in her eyes.
“You-” Marth looked contended.
“If you won't go willingly, I'll just be forced to put down your rebellion,” Sheik smiled at him deviously. Marth crossed his arms and looked away uneasily, appearing ready to offer another attempt.
“Well, fine, but I'll have trouble accepting this.” Marth still stood tall, looking between them. Sheik just pointed to the ground, Zelda appeared with Marth's pack which he took as he lowered himself cautiously. He fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the ground, his breathing suddenly shallow.
“That was fast,” Sheik said surprisedly. Zelda handed her her head wraps, retrieved from Marth's pack, “my thanks, now where should I lay my head, here?” Sheik was nearly as tired as Marth, falling asleep almost instantaneously as she lay a few feet away. Zelda puffed and brushed a lock of hair from her face. She had no more need of Marth's cloak, that might change she thought, she simply had removed all of her cold metal jewelry and let her hair flow around her shoulders. This would be a long night she thought. She opened her palm and a small green light emitted from it, maybe she could use this chance to remember something more.
Only a short time later a bored Zelda who discovered next to nothing sat as concentrations of energy floated about her. She jumped and let out a small yelp when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She quickly spun around, her surprise quickly turning to annoyance, “D-don't do that!” She said in a hushed voice. A curious expression then, “why are you two awake?” Marth was snuffing the fire and scattering the warmth as he yawned.
“Ah we just thought how silly we where, the night is warm enough that we don't need the fire, but I'll place some catalyst and save some coals if the need suddenly arises,”
“We both woke up and I realized it would probably be better if we just kept a low profile and all went to sleep at the same time,”
“Your proximity is what woke me up,” Marth's face was shadowed and serious.
“H-hey, I knew as soon as you did what I was doing,” Sheik waved her arms in front of her. Marth turned away quickly and set himself down, the area now dark.
Zelda grabbed Marth's cloak and lay down slowly, picking out the ideal spot in the darkness, Sheik did the same. “We'll see each other during the watch, then I hope? Goodnight,” Marth spoke wistfully. Soon the sun was no more, the moon barely shone, and they were all enveloped by sleep.
She was the first to awaken in the pitch black of night, rubbing her eyes and stretching as a familiar sense washed over her. After the first sleep comes the watch, a time of wakefulness. One's mind has an overwhelming sense of calm during this time, memories and images from it are incredibly vivid, but somehow fuzzy. Zelda sat up and gazed into the distance, the night, in her view, was supremely perfect, except something was off, her eyes shone as she locked onto something. It lacked depth, its manner shadowy, nearly light-less, it was nothing more than a gray outline, but it moved in an uncanny manner. The shape floated across the ground as it moved back in forth, it jerked, changing is posture suddenly as it had so many times already, eerily just beyond distinction yet so tangible, yet she felt no fear, she felt nearly nothing. It disappeared behind a tree far off. There was movement beside her, someone else waking for the watch, he was close, “Zelda's eyes are very big,” Marth dreamily spoke as propped himself up, turning to her.
“Marth's too, there really blue,” she leaned closer to examine them. “I've been thinking,” she trailed off.
“That's not unusual for the watch,” he nodded, thankful that she couldn't see him blush.
“Even though we're from lands far away, lands never heard of, we can still understand our language, concepts, culture, but we don't know how we came here.” She backed off a little. “I think our next priority in the morning should be that.” She then seemed to lock in an internal battle, a few words struggling out, “Marth, sorry for. . . I do not know,” then her lips where loosed, “I feel like I've betrayed some unspoken word, when I ran to you it was as if my mind was being removed from me, normally detached and not so ruled by whatever directed me.”
“I empathize, I feel like we're at war,” He looked away, “we sho-” he suddenly stopped, Zelda moved behind him and followed his eyes, it was back.
“Oh, I saw that when I woke up,” it seemed to turn towards them and grow thinner, he slowly sat up and a sudden intensity was in the air. Zelda pressed herself against him, fear piercing the bubble of calm. Suddenly it vaporized before them, fading into nothingness. She breathed in his soothing smell, the calm returning she relaxed her grip on his shirt, the fear passed and her mind went completely blank.
“That was-” he cut himself short, looking down at her sudden intimacy, his face giving sudden realization. “Wh-where are you. . . ?” he added shakily.
“My my, just what are you two doing?” A third voice chimed in suggestively.
Zelda seemed to come back to reality at this, “eh?” Sheik suppressed laughter as the other quickly withdrew, Marth and Zelda's faces troubled through the darkness. “S-sorry I-I didn't under-understand what I-I wasn't thinking-I uhm.”
“No, but - fufufu - what - ehehh - where you really doing?” Sheik could barely speak through her suppressed laughter.
“Watching that,” Marth replied darkly, it was closer now.
“What is-” Sheik's eyes went wide as Marth placed his hands over their mouths and drew them close, everything went perfectly still, including it. The thing seeming to examine the area before it as it slowly turned as if on a carousel. Once again it passed over, moving closer, jerking and twisting, heading for the extinguished fire pit only a few meters away. It stared at the pit for some time, a guttural noise snaking up from within it, it ran an appendage through the charred remains, it made a piercing noise when the fire flared to life before it, the preset fuels igniting. All at once its already vague features turned to that of rage as it scattered and fled into nothingness. None of them knew how to respond to what happened. A tear dropped onto his hand, Zelda's face was somehow confused and somehow expressionless, but that would not change her watery eyes.
“Hak-uh, a-I'm sorry, this isn't like me. . . ,” she choked back her tears.
Sheik leaned across and embraced her, her whole body shaking, “this isn't like us,” she said, “that thing won't scare us again,” she looked up at Marth, “right?”
“It won't,” he joined their embrace, and calm once again sheltered them. Zelda suddenly wished she could stay like this forever, these were her friends, the only people she knew.
A long time passed, “I don't wanna let go. . .” Sheik conjured up her cutest voice, “I'm getting kinda tired,” she looked at them with twinkling eyes and a far too innocent expression, “W-we should stay close, for protection, like this?” A short pause, and both Marth and Zelda withdrew slightly and lay down.
“Goodnight,” they said together. Sheik grew a cross expression.
“Haaa, come on! You're no fun,” she blew an exasperated puff and slowly laid down. “Goodnight,” she said, seeming unwilling to admit her content. People like these Sheik thought with a smile as she closed her eyes, friends like these.
A few seconds later their imaginations ran wild as a strong wind rustled the trees, creating phantom sounds. They convened again, “P-perhaps it would be best if we stayed close,” Zelda stammered softly.
“Falcon. . .” Luigi barely heard it in time, jumping away from the door. “KIIICK!” The wood shattered and flew away from the blazing move. His flaming foot was a sight to behold, the image of a falcon forming before him.
King Koopa breathed in the air, a glorious smell filled his nose, the smell of the sea, the sand on his feet, and the burning forest behind him. He set down at last.
Comfort, her first thought, comfort, a hypnotizing rise and fall, synchronized in counterpoise, exhaling at each inhale and inhaling at each exhale. A steady drumbeat, her cheek pressed as another wave lapped the shore, a peaceful dreamless night, ended with more peace, a calm joy for this simplicity, with no understanding, with no want of guile or subtleties. Perception grew, there were arms around her, she was being held, sheltered. She flung her eyes wide open, one dark as its eyelashes brushed into the fabric of his collar. Marth, she breathed the name, all the symptoms of an impassioned heart came suddenly, her mind reeled, her chest beat hard, she scrambled for escape, yet couldn't move, shaking with an foreign emotion, wrestling with a shrouded foe.
Numbness most full, a curious thing being senseless yet warm, came to him, a wave of afterglow slipped into his mind, and his first wandering thoughts, his usual nobility, were shattered under this one unifying account. He thought about her, had she called his name? Marth felt the sunlight warm, his discernment localized the numbness, his arms shot waves of alert of the cradling, and he snapped his eyes open. As soon as he saw her golden and brown hair his heart was seized with what felt like great pain but he knew to be exhilaration, but, his reaction was stopped cold, and a near dread filled him, she was also awake, and he hoped she didn't notice.
Zelda noticed the slight jolt, and the same fear reared in her mind as well, was he giving witness? She tried to lay in total stillness, but she couldn't help her anxiety, nor he his.
How to resolve this situation? Sheik mused with a smirk, standing off to the side, they might as well stay like that forever, I am a little jealous though.
Marth thought over and over of what to do, but his intellect seemed to fail him, and at last the gentle nudge of frustration pushed his excitement off the cliff. “Zelda,” he blurted, they both froze, “are you awake?” A hesitation.
“M-maybe,” she said, voice muffled, making no motion. Another pause.
“Well, when you wake up. . .” Marth tried to take a deep breath, “would you mind. . . I can't move.”
“Neither can I. . .”
“Uh. . .” he swallowed hard “Why not?”
“. . . Your arms”, Zelda said bashfully.
Marth had held her closely, and soon realizing this he threw his arms out to the sides.
Zelda planted her hands on either side of him. Her arms shook, slowly lifting herself. Finally steadying her elbows, the sunlight seemed enhanced in its brilliance, like a pastel or watercolor, a romantic or expressionist scene, they locked eyes, and their previous tensions seemed to melt in an instant, they smiled widely at each-other.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she replied. After a moment all the previous tension returned, all their mutual shyness shuffled back in.
“Good morning!” said Sheik rather loudly, a wry grin plastered on to her face.
Zelda jumped to her feet, stumbling away as her foot dared to give out, her head knocked into a tree, to which she plainly proclaimed “ow,” then standing and rubbing her head. Marth attempted to sit up, and all at once the compressed nerves met a wall of opposition, the involuntary muscles in his torso and thighs contracting and wracking him with a lightning pain. Through a sheer act of will he stretched the opposite way of the straining meat, and in another instant it was gone, and he rolled to his knees. After a moment of groping in his pack, he extracted the water supply, drinking and spilling a fair deal on himself.
As he panted, Sheik glared and snickered, Zelda was massaging her forehead. He stood slowly, carefully. He saw Zelda's eyes glance and look away, and Sheik's smirk stopped, her gaze shifting downward. He turned and went away quickly.
“Cooled off?” Sheik said. He gritted his teeth, straining his mind to one single, fiery point of focus as he was preparing a simple meal of bread, cheese, and water and while they ate. He was glad for this ability to halt his wandering mind and contemplate, to stand as an outsider, with an innocent curiousness he could look in, as it was his reprieve, his refuge from the restless pursuit of some goal he felt at hand, some objective ever present in the world outside.
After they had eaten, Marth directed the conversation. “Last night, during the watch, Zelda and I agreed our first order, to discover through whom we have come to this place. I may have a clue”. He proceeded to tell them of the plaque and the cryptic message it relayed. “This most certainly is well planned, but I suppose we must determine what purpose the designer has.”
“Wait, I saw something similar, it was written in Hylian, almost natural to the tree it was engraved in,” Zelda held a stern expression. “In banquet hall it is consummated, greeting and joy.”
“Mine was on a stone slab: 'Legends gathered, as bulwark against the unwelcomed.'” Sheik said, “Ominous, what now?”
“East,” Marth said slowly, standing and walking swiftly, “do you hear. . .” eyes trying to focus on something. Sheik caught up to him, “. . . that noise?”
“Slow down!” they said, Zelda running up.
“I - I don't know,” he slowed, locking himself in resistance, “I can feel. . . the same despair. . .”
Zelda ran in front of the two, stopping them, “stand close, we can hear it too,” she said, the same stern face on her. The other two took a beat, then did as instructed, Marth genuflected by a force pushing him down. She put her hands over her chest and closed her eyes, the Triforce symbol on her hand glowing, a transparent blue curtain formed, she opened her arms and drew the other two into the expanding curtain, a look of peace came over her, softening her features, and opening her eyes, they shone gold. Sheik's hand glowed the same as well, Marth shook in place, head bent low. The light faded. Raising his eyes to them, I am at peace, a surprising, internal statement, it was not cold or rigid, it was relaxed, it was all four loves at once, a warm light pulsing in his intellect. He stood, the sky was gray save a single shaft of blue and sun.
Sheik exhaled, “Nayru's Love.” Zelda looked at her, astounded.
“We are the same, but we are. . .” Taking their hands together, the symbol still alight.
“The same?” Marth said.
“The same. . . person, we're one in being. . . you know?”
He shook his head solemnly. He watched both of their faces fall suddenly, both blanched stark white and frozen, wide eyed, his heart sank at a pitted feeling came to his stomach. When Sheik's hand went for her wakizashi he took the cue and went for his sword as well, shooting a leg back and turning on his heels, they all moved fluidly. Zelda's magic flared to life, a wind swept at her command, a subtle green ribbon flowing around her. Before them was the horror that had faced them in the night, less definite in form, more mist than substance, a sound was coming from it, subtle and harrowing, at last a mad tinnitus. Hard shadows writhed in it, sculpting a vague face, the only part with depth, blank eye sockets, a hollow mouth, a swept back forehead that ended in a crescent formed by elongated temples, a jutting and pointed chin. Black spots with deep purple fringe and tendrils began flowing from its mouth as it skulked backwards, a shrill, throaty, hating sound breathed from it. It faded, but its spawn remained. The purple amalgamation rose, the outline formed a slumped head, shoulders and arms drawing from the pool, the mass bleeding off it. The brusque musculature rippled as it finally stood three feet above them, two beady red eyes and milky whites were the only feature of its face, it was harsh angles and fierce looks, and its skin was a dark blue that carried some of the depthlessness, just enough to hurt the eyes after staring for too long. It wore a solid olive beret and a singular jerkin of the same color, and heavy and snubbed brown boots with rugged gloves in bold, fleshy contrast with the angularity and harshness of its skin.
The last shadow bugs absorbed into the Primid, and it surged forward with the sleek bestiality of instinct and a cold combination of intelligence, confident and indifferent. It brought a fist forward out of its stride, lunging for the blue enemy before it with the opposite knee leading, a dull glare in its eyes. Sheik gained its outside, delivering two large upstroke slashes to its tricep and forearm, sidling to gain its back. Marth leapt backwards and to the inside of its arm, the biting tip of Falchion falling into its knee as the Primid's advance was halted. Zelda's thrust her arms forward, the green ribbon around them, and a cutting gust caught it full in the chest, driving the wind and armor from it and pushing it back. The Primid barely took a beat, and swung its still extended arm in a back fist at Sheik, using it as dead weight, its damaged muscles refusing response, she ducked towards his back and leg, the fist sailing over her, the Wakizashi lashed against its latissimus, followed quickly by a sharp jab of her open fingers into where the kidney would presumably be. He was opened wide then, Marth stepped forward, and gripping the blade with both hands, shifted his whole body in a twisting motion with his thrust, burying Falchion half way through its chest, piercing the exposed skin. The Primid hooked its close arm out at Marth, who was pulling his sword, Marth saw it coming long before, just as it came he rolled his head and chin down and away, and put his left arm as a brace and barrier on his head, grabbing his own neck. His resistance was further supported by a blue pane materializing just before the impact, though it promptly shattered as the fist slammed into his arm. Sheik pivoted from her dash and now jumped, plunging her blade straight through its neck armor it stopped cold, she turned the short blade and drew it out a side of its neck, pushing off and away. Marth pulled his blade from the Primid, quickly backing away, and as both cleared a distance, a red, flickering point orb flew into the Primid, exploding at last with a spectacular display, the being dissipated in a conflagration then, as it was knocked high into the sky, its own secondary explosion colorful like that of a firework, a sound and crack like the warping of a large sheet of metal and a shimmer of lined chimes.
“That was the despair.” Zelda shivered, hugging herself, the face haunted them.
“But we fought and won!” Sheik said, Sheathing her blade and approaching the other.
“Everything is so odd,” She drew inward further, “it's so odd.” Her face was cold, strained, indifferent, the others glanced at each other in worry.
“Zelda. . .” He didn't know what else to offer.
“Who are you, talking like that, aren't you supposed to be wise?”
Her face softened and loosened, she looked at them. “Yes, we won, and we will win. Now we have to consider the plan of evil,” then sighing, “hope gives two things, anger and courage. I'm certainly angry at how things are, but I need the courage to change them,” and she stared forward, seeming to gather strength, then she slumped again and said to them, “let me lean on you for a while.” They quickly obliged, they had little choice lest they let her fall to the ground. “Sheik, Marth, you give me something important, serenity, to accept those things I cannot change.”
“You can count on me, er, yourself, myself, I mean – oh you know what I mean,” she grinned helplessly.
“We will pierce the veil,” he said.
Zelda smiled gaily, and she skipped away from them, the world had become vibrant, alive, the afterglow of a few choice moments out shined the bleakness of their recent encounter, it spilled over into her present and future, “I think I found my courage.”
Sheik gave a knowing wink when Marth looked to her, then in a quiet, delightful voice to him, she said “me too.” He quickly went about packing camp to occupy himself, his mind racing, the others joined quickly.
When they had finished, Marth said, “east, the mountains of the north abruptly end, most likely in a body of water, and in between a river, we can travel the coast as well.” He was heartened, action had his favor.
“I noticed we didn't have much water left after you spilled it all over yourself,” Sheik elbowed him, and then whispered in his ear, her face aglow “it's not all I noticed.”
“That – that was . . .” he stopped himself. A startling sound came from far off, the direction they intended to go, a trumpet, it was light, played on the air, gentle, but it carried far, all the taiga around them seemed to silence at its melody, a melody of soothing and yearning. A reverberation played through as it stopped for a rest, then picked up again, and the wind blew.
The stone hall shook, a breeze whipped through it, a groan, creaking, not quite alive, but something different. Bright light intruded around the edges of her visor, her vision mostly that of a concrete floor, her power suit beginning to react to her biological functions. As soon as it powered up a wave of knowledge rushed over her through it, who she was, how to work the suit, parts of her past, but how did she get wherever she was now? She pushed herself from the ground, planting her feet under and scanning the environment. Her scanner told her of the large sized yet brightly lit chapel, some architectural lingo, not much help though it was. She walked unsteadily from the aisle, grasping at last the door she steadied herself. Pushing it open in the slight, she carefully scanned the surrounding area, it zoomed in on the far end of the hall. There was an orange, floating being, with a large mouth and wide grin, curious yellow eyes, it ended in the air, a wavy line surrounded its base. She scanned it. Scan Complete: Ghost, when light is suddenly shone on it, its heart becomes visible and it freezes, the hostile can then be dispersed or captured in the short window of time created. Logbook entry updated. That really helps, she thought, something must be wrong with her suit. It didn't matter, she fought tougher looking Chozo ghosts before..
It was a narrow band, clearly cut out from the pine walls, from the soft dirt and grass, a border of large stone was its bed and shallow depression, its lifeblood a crystal clarity that showed the sun through to shine on the array of stone that ran through as its own stream, an unmoving stream of round and red rocks, speckled with whites and pores, of blunted blue-green with curious shape flaring and sporting quartz, of a clear pale ghost of stone. The creek flowed rapidly, raging in a sudden strip of foothills from the mountain's snowy peaks, enhanced with the shine of the sun at its zenith. His fingers tips graced the water, it was pleasing in moderate temperature, it caused his nerves to sing with an odd, pure sensation, not dulled by cold or relaxed by heat. She lay down next to him, her finger wrappings and forearm guards undone, drinking her fill of the water.
“I feel power in this place,” said Zelda who at last had caught up from when they ran ahead.
“This water is delicious, with the ability to quench the heart, my whole body is tingly, mmh,” Sheik swallowed another handful.
“This world. . . much of it seems too perfect, I look out at the horizon on a steep grade, there is a grandeur, now when I see this. . .” Marth trailed off. Zelda collapsed at last, her legs giving in from hours of walking.
“Look here!” Sheik said excitedly, the others hurried to join her, and they all examined close the etched words: “All ye creation touched by this water shall have fire born in thee, strength of body returned, the fortitude of a mountain and the effortlessness of breath.” She said, “I suspect there's substance to these promises.”
As Zelda gazed at the water her eyes lit, she conjured Din's Fire, and set a wall of heat at a mouth narrowing in the stream as it poured into a small side basin before passing through another mouth and rejoining swiftly downward. Steam rose slowly from the water, “I wish to bathe. Would you stay close? Please? Just in case.”
“. . . I will.” He mounted the font and dropped behind the ledge, “you trust these, whatever force is behind this?”
“Well. Yes. Yes, we do.” Zelda said resolutely.
Sheik's paddings and wrappings dropped away, “ugh, these stupid bindings start hurting after a while. What are you waiting for?”
“I want to see what happens.”
“What happens to me? What's better than first hand?”
“It is first hand,” Zelda said.
“I see,” Sheik stood above the pool and tested the water. She stepped down up to her knees, the feeling was nearly unbearable. She stood getting slowly used to the feeling.
“Is something wrong?” Zelda asked nervously.
“No, it feels – it feels wonderful.”
Wonderful? How so? Zelda was more perplexed as Sheik sunk into the water.
“This feels amazing! You're missing out,” she made an array of slightly suggestive sounds.
Zelda's shoulder's slumped, she looked at her with empty eyes, “you shouldn't be making noises like that.”
“Pf,” Sheik put a hand to her mouth, “I exaggerated a little,” Zelda looked at her with weary haughtiness. “Only a little,” Sheik submerged herself a moment, as she came up she was barraged with her clothes, “hey, join me.”
Zelda's stopped when she was hit by a splash from Sheik, the water felt strange, and suddenly a hunger surfaced in her. She stepped and sat next to Sheik at once.
“Hm? I don't feel any-” it seemed like the breath was knocked out of her, her eyes went wide and then had a drowsy look, she gaped, “O – oh,” her mind was inebriated with unfounded pleasure, she squirmed and clutched her throat, gasping for air.
“You took that worse than me,” Sheik said.
Zelda's only response was to splash water in Sheik's face, the other flinched, Zelda snorted in amusement, an exchange of volleys followed.
“I could use some help here,” Falco crouched behind the tree root.
“I have no ranged attack, I shall wait for them to close distance,” Meta Knight said.
Ganondorf's face contorted, he pushed himself up from the ground, standing tall above and glaring down at the advancing squads of Primids.
Falco stood and unleashed with his dual blasters, his scouter folding a lens over his eyes. “Whatever you're going to do, big guy, do it fast!”
He lift his arm high in the sky, a blazing orb formed as he slowly lifted off the ground, he laughed cruelly and bowled it into a column, annihilating a great deal. He dropped back down in a slump, he looked up at Meta Knight with intense eyes, “go,” he said.
His large bat wings sprung from his cloak and his blade flared into existence, he gave one great heave and observed the advancing group, he saw glaring swords and shoulder fired weapons, most were unarmed, and so he dove at those coming near the natural entrenchment, his blade screeched each time he seemed to go directly through one and looped upwards.
Falco pumped blue lasers continuously, gunning for the gunner Primids first, with each barrage a flare of color erupted from the Primids as they dissipated, and dust came shrieking off the ground.
