Veil of Twilight

Chapter XXI
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They reached Hyrule Proper after sunset, with the moon climbing the starts into the sky. There was still the oppressive cloak of twilight surrounding the spires of the actual castle. As they approached the gates, each side flanked by castle guards, Link heard Midna whisper from within his shadow.

“Link, don’t!”

“Wha-?” But then she had materialized and was already pulling him into the shadows out of sight.

“Did you hear something?” Link faintly heard one of the guards say. The other one grunted in reply.

“What?” Link hissed in frustration.

“Just look,” she replied, pointing towards the main gate. He followed her gaze and saw, nailed to the stone walls on either side of the entrance, were identical large scrolls of parchment. Each one had an alarmingly accurate depiction of his own face on it, looking onwards in an uncharacteristically menacing fashion. Beneath his portrait in large, bold print: Wanted. Link couldn’t make out the fine print beneath the headline, but the single word was enough.

“What’s going on…?” he said, his voice full of disappointment.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Midna explained from over his shoulder. “Zant knows we’re making headway. He’s trying to stop us.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“Well…” Midna started. “I do have an idea…”

She clasped her hands together, rubbing them as if for warmth, and them separated them. Between her palms was an amorphous ball of black smoke. It took a second for Link to recognize it.

“Is… is that-?”

“Told you it might come in handy,” she said.

…

The halls were cold; they had been since the Twilight around the castle had been cast. Zant had been born in the Twilight, called the realm home. But this particular shade was foreign even to him.

“Any sign of them, my master?”

Queen Zelda turned her gaze from the window, peering over her shoulder, her hands clasped together at the small of her back. Zant shuddered under her gaze.

“The imp is keeping them concealed,” she said, her voice booming with the volume and tones of two. “But it’s only a matter of time.”

Zelda turned back to the window, watching the Twilight swirl ethereally. Zant continued to watch her.

He had become increasingly uncomfortable in her presence. He had turned to this… whatever it was, in a moment of desperation; a last ditch attempt to gain the power so voraciously sought. It had promised him all he desired and more. Not just the Twilight Kingdom, but the entire realm, and beyond. He hadn’t questioned.

But things looked much different now. This power had left him, taking the body of the girl. Zant was weak now, as he had been before. Things seemed to be commencing according to it’s plan, but… he wasn’t stupid. It was becoming increasingly obvious that whatever it had in mind was not in line with his own schemes.

“Is there something you wish to say?”

Zant looked up, pulled from his thoughts. Zelda was staring at him, her yellow eyes holding his gaze. He knew in that moment that she had seen his thoughts, that his waning trust was now apparent.

“Nothing, my lord…” Zant complied. Zelda smirked.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said. “I needn’t read your mind to know you grow uneasy. It’s only natural.”

Zelda stepped away from the window, approaching slowly. Zant stood rigid, stubbornly refusing to be intimidated, but too scared to move.

“Besides,” she continued, her voice cooing atop, growling beneath. “You’ve done well. You’ve shown ambition, in your cooperation with myself, and you have completed every task I’ve asked of you. You’re deserving of what’s rightfully yours.”

She stopped just before him, looking up at his mask. She could see past it. He could feel it.

“So I’ve one last task for you,” Zelda said. “The imp and the boy are sure to succeed in mending the glass. They’ll go to the Twilight Realm, looking for a way to defeat us. This cannot come to pass. Kneel, Twilight King.”

Zant complied, taking a knee before the woman.

“Ascend the throne of Twilight,” she said to him. “And when they come to overthrow you, kill them.”

Zant nodded.

“It will be done, my lord.”

…

It was so cold. The coldest he had ever been. The wind whipped hard, and it felt like blades on his skin. And the tundra swept for miles ahead, showing no signs of changing. Every where, more cold, more wasteland.

Link hadn’t been long in Hyrule. Telma had met him in front of the bar, mere seconds after he had shed his wolf form, pulling him in by the shirt while he was still disoriented.

They were looking for him. Everyone. There was a price on his head that only Zelda herself could pay.

“You can’t stay here,” she said in a hushed panic. “They’ll come looking for you, they’ll know you’ve been here.”

She’d sent him away without a word in edgewise. Ashei had taken it from there. She’d led him quietly out of Hyrule and toward Zora’s domain, filling him in along the journey.

The princess has turned on us,” she had said. “ We had assumed her a captive before, but… now she’s risen up, and has turned the people against you. You’re being blamed for the murder of the king and queen. It’s her word against yours, so… well, you get the idea. Anyway, the best we can do is point you in the right direction, so you can collect those glasses or mirrors, or whatever it is you need.”

The right direction, in this case, was Snowpeak, the mountain range beyond Zora’s Domain. Fortunately for them, the Zora had no interest in collecting Link’s bounty, not at all panicked or naïve enough to think that there wasn’t something bigger going on. Ashei led him to the pass that led up to the mountains.

“There’s been some suspicious activity concerning the natives up there,” Ashei had explained. “There should be something up there for you. It’s cold, so be careful. Good luck.”

Cold had been an understatement. It was freezing. Link trudged through the snow, the wind whipping him in the face. He had no idea where he was going, but Midna would give him directions every so often, claiming to feel the shard’s power.

“There!”

As if she had heard him, Midna appeared over his shoulder, pointing into the distance. He followed her direction, spotting something. It looked so out of place, in the middle of this place: A house?

It was more than a house: a mansion, grand and lined with windows, the glass splintered and cracked with the blistering cold. The wind blew in and out of them, and the entire place seemed to groan in agony. Link stared up at it from the front steps, his mind racing with questions when Midna once again called him to attention.

“Link…”

She was pointing to the right of where they stood. There was something standing at the end of the house’s front, massive tracks in the snow left from where it had just come around the corner.

It was a yeti, giant, at least twenty feet tall, it’s pelt matted and covered in bits of snow. It’s bottom row of teeth protruded boorishly from it’s mouth, and it’s eyes were focused solely on him, unblinking and unwavering.

Link didn’t move a muscle, and for all one knew he very well could have been frozen to the spot. Then, after what seemed like forever, the beast, turned away, lurching back around the corner of the mansion. Beneath the howl of the wind he could hear it’s thunderous footsteps, plodding through the snow. He stood there for a long minute after it was out of sight, not moving or talking.

“Well,” Midna finally said. “Maybe you should just turn back now.”

Link considered this momentarily, before realizing that she was joking, of course, and that such was not an option. As he tried to quell his panic, he felt a warm sensation in his chest, like a hot coal on his body. He reached into his tunic and retrieved the source of heat: the strange mask. He had forgotten all about it.

“What’s that?” Midna said warily. Her voice expressed blatant distaste. “It’s creepy.”

Link nodded in silent agreement. He barely remembered the last time he had put it on; it was all a blur. But from what he did recollect, he knew it wasn’t a pleasant experience at all. It had been like a terrible dream, one where he could watch but not control.

Then he remembered the creature that he had just encountered. He remembered the Temple of Time, of how easily he had quelled the monster with the mask’s power. And once again, the fairy’s words echoed in his mind. Courage, already in short supply, wasn’t enough.

He put on the mask.

…

It was no warmer inside the mansion. Ice formed over every object and surface, coating everything with cold that was soul freezing and skin burning and sharply slick at the same time. Ice that was blunt enough for force trauma, but in some places pointed enough to impale. The place looked as though, before the freeze, it had once been elegant, practical; both a luxurious manor and fortified stronghold at once. There were rooms and rooms with plush red carpets, roaring fires crackling pleasantly, if not confusingly, belying the deathly freeze just beyond the gracefully designed doors. Beyond the main foyer in the center of the estate, surrounded by the castle like walls of the house, was an expansive courtyard. It looked like a miniature battlefield, the foxholes and stone walls buried under feet of snow.

There were wolves in the courtyard; a pack of them. They stalked around the entire vicinity in an organized unit, their snow white fur rendering them invisible, save for their glowing eyes. They smelled him, sensed his presence. They were sleek natural predators, born and driven to hunt, to kill. But they could never hunt him, not as he was now.

He was hunting them.

Link watched them from above, crouched like a hawk upon a battlement on the courtyard wall, camouflaged under the constant veil of whipping snow. His blank eyes could see the wolves as though they were neon colors. He grinned in satisfaction, revealing his pointed teeth. Midna floated by his shoulder silently, her eyes on Link and not the task at hand. Her expression was an uneasy one, full of doubt and nervousness, but she said nothing.

Link watched for a moment longer before rising to standing position. Midna disappeared back into his shadow. He drew his giant, twisted sword and leapt from the battlement, guiding his dive precisely.

He landed atop one of the wolves. It yelped minutely before it was severed in half, crimson blood staining the pure snow. The others came at him immediately, but he had already vanished from the spot. The wolves tucked their ears back and bared their jaws, either out of fury or terror.

He killed the next one, darting past in a flash and lobbing it’s head off. The wolves barked frantically, spinning around in circles as if they were chasing their tales. There were still a dozen left, and Link dropped down in the center of their circle, garnering the attention of the entire pack. They rushed him.

Link slashed at them as they came, none of them landing so much as a scratch on him. Each one fell into an ever growing pile of white-stained-red-fur and teeth and steaming guts at his feet, until there was only one left. Seeming to realize it’s fate, it yelped and turned to run. Link grabbed by the back of the neck, holding it up as it whimpered and tucked it’s tale between it’s legs. Link grabbed it’s head with his other hand and ripped it’s head off of it’s body, it’s flesh and bone separating like tearing parchment. He dropped the pieces, his smile smug and set.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Midna spoke.

“What is wrong with you?”

Link looked down at his shadow to see Midna’s eyes staring back at him, into him. Something stirred, deep inside, his conscience. He ignored it.

“What are you talking about?” he said. His voice was different, gruffer, deeper. “Since when is slaying monsters a new development?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Midna said angrily. “I know they’re monsters, but you’re still a hero. That was pure sadism. You were practically getting a hard-on torturing those things.”

“I don’t see why it matters how I kill them,” Link said, beginning to trudge through the snow, not even bothering to look at her. “I don’t imagine you’ll be complaining when we find this mirror shard.”

“Why are you acting this way, Link?” Midna’s voice was near pleading. “It’s that mask. Take it off, please-”

“You’re crazy,” Link brushed it off. She had to be joking? Take the mask off? The only thing the mask was doing to him was making him stronger. He could feel the power in every fiber of his being, a sentience, another being. He felt invincible, like a god among mortals, a fierce deity.

“Link, please! I don’t like what’s happening -”

“Shut up!” he snapped. From the corner of his vision, Link could see Midna’s eyes within the shadow, quivering with the shiny promise of tears. But she said nothing.

…

There were no more wolves as he explored the rest of the manor. Apparently they could take a hint. He wondered if the giant snow beast he had seen earlier had also witnessed the massacre, and was deciding to stay away.

Midna was silent as they explored the cold stone halls of the mansion. Her eyes weren’t present within his shadow. He didn’t mind. The silence was good.

He entered a room with large double doors, and was greeted with a burst of cool air, as if the rest of the place wasn’t already bone chilling.

It was a master bedroom, sculpted entirely of ice. The ceiling stretched a hundred feet up, gargantuan crystalline chandeliers sparkling overhead. There was a massive four-poster bed, carved immaculately of ice, down to the last fold in the curtains, and so on with all the furniture; a bureau, a bedside desk, a table in the center of the room. There were empty picture frames on the wall, icy and blank.

On the far side of the bedroom, Link spotted the tenant of the room, towering and covered in white fur, just as he had seen it outside. He drew his sword and approached.

Link was feet from the snow beast before it turned to face him. His eyebrows raised; this wasn’t the same one he had seen outside. It was smaller than the first, though still massive, and decidedly more feminine, smiling at him with an endearing face. He didn’t smile back, instead examining what had captured the thing’s interest moments before.

The snow thing was standing before a vanity armoire, carved of ice. The mirror shard was placed upon the face of it, resting in a carved indentation, serving as the mirror of the vanity. Link saw himself reflected in the distorted ripples of the mirror’s face, tall and fierce. The snow beast, though, was sporting a much more interesting reflection: it’s image in the mirror sported glowing red eyes, along with absurdly sharp and crooked fangs. He looked away from the mirror and back to the real thing; the female yeti smiled at him sweetly, as cute as a button.

“Weird…” Link muttered, stepping past the creature and towards the vanity. He reached out to grasp the shard before he felt a tug at his free arm: he looked back to see the yeti holding his arm with warm paws, her round face scarred with a furrowed brow and a tight frown. He yanked his arm away in annoyance, one again reaching for the mirror.

His fingers touched the frosted surface of the glass before the yeti grabbed him again, forcefully this time. Her hands dug in hard, yanking him away and tossing him into the air, emitting a shrill, alien wail all the while.

Link hit the icy floor and slid, looking up from the flat of his back to see the yeti loping towards him, her toothy, red eyed face free of the mirror and staring at him in real life. She shambled close alarmingly fast, swinging a now talon edged claw at him, shattering the table in the center of the room. Link hopped back as the yeti-thing made to stab him, driving talons deep into the ice. It raised it’s other hand and shards of ice formed in the air, knife edged and pointed towards Link.

He jumped aside as they flew at him, skidding across the floor as he landed. The yeti wrenched her arm from the ice and came at him again. Link jumped up onto the solid ice mattress of the bed, holding his sword before him. The yeti swung again, shattering one of the four bed-poles. Link seized his chance, diving at her during the follow through of the swing. He pinned the yeti to the ground, raising his giant sword furiously. He couldn’t believe the thing had almost overpowered him, catching him by surprise like that. He’d have the last laugh, though.

He made to swing down when he felt resistance. He looked to see Midna holding his wrist, staying his swing.

“Link, don’t! It’s the mirror, she can’t help-”

“Let go!” He cut her off, wrenching his hand from her and swinging. There was a solid, satisfying thud as he struck Midna, sending her flying across the room. He didn’t bother to see where she landed. He turned back to the yeti beneath him, ready to swing. It’s face was completely feral now, devoid of any of the beauty he had seen in it before. It shrieked and gnashed it’s teeth, trying in vain to bite him; the face of an animal. Link felt a passing moment of conscience as he caught his reflection in her eye, his own facial expression disturbingly similar.

Without thinking, acting purely through action, Link reached up and pulled at his face, taking off the mask. The pain was immense; it felt like he was literally tearing his own head off. He gasped for air as it came off, feeling winded, smaller, weaker, but still better somehow.

He looked up just in time to see something large and hairy collide with him, sending him hurtling through the air once more, his back crushing against the vanity.

Through his haze of concussion, he saw it was the other yeti, the larger one from before. It knelt down beside the female one, picking her up, carefully, tenderly, cradling her in his arms. He leaned down and they touched noses, nuzzling one another.

Link froze as the yeti turned away from the smaller one and fixed it’s gaze on him. It stomped towards him, shaking the room threateningly. Link closed his eyes, not wanting to see whatever it was the beast was going to do to him.

He opened them when he heard a cold metallic clatter. The mirror shard lay on the ice beside him. He looked up at the yeti. It held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned and stomped towards the door. Leaving Link and Midna alone in the room.

Link grabbed the mirror shard and tucked it into his tunic. He spotted Midna a few feet away and approached warily, ashamed and unsure what to say, what to do. He couldn’t believe what he had done, influenced or not.

He knelt beside her, picking up her small unconscious body. Her eyes fluttered open as he held her. She fixed on him and stared, but said nothing, her face set and neutral. He leaned down, acting without thinking once more, and pressed his nose to hers, nuzzling her a little. It had worked for the yetis, hadn’t it? Expression crept onto Midna’s face, although not one he had hoped for.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her tone both confused and mocking.

“I-I uh… I don’t know,” he stuttered. But she was smiling now, so he was, too.

“I’m sorry, Midna…”

“Don’t worry,” she said, levitating to eye level with him. “Fledgling heroes falling victim to controlling, malevolent forces? It happens.”

Link grinned. “Not anymore.”

Midna disappeared into Link’s shadow as he made for the exit of the ice chamber, leaving the strange mask where it lay on the floor.

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I'm soooo sorry for the wait. I hope the chapter makes up for it. I'm almost towards the end of the story. There should be about two more chapters before the final showdown/climax, which will be a few chapters in iteslf. What will happen?! Read and find out.

"dave," "JB," and "Max," thanks for the reviews. Sorry to keep you waiting. I hope you're enjoying it so far. Review and let me know what you think. Until next time, read, rate, review, and enjoy!