#as for why she's still alive im just gonna chalk it up to her divine papa but that's not important xD

[gerudospiriit]

Mirror of Twilight.

Nabooru heard Link's tale through a murmur of static as her mind returned to a memory, though ancient, still remained fresh. A last ditch effort to save her sisters and their king before they could be executed. Some successfully escaped with her aid. But she was not quick enough. The rest of the combatants who fought with Ganondorf were executed in front of him, at the top of the temple turned prison.

And then...they turned their sights on the king. The sword that pierced his chest. How he broke free and dispatched of one of the glowing spirits overseeing his, now failed, demise. The disc...the mirror that created....something. A portal, perhaps, that pulled him inside. All witnessed from within the shadow of a pillar...

Her senses returned near the tail end of Link's story where he explained his ultimate goal. Where he confirmed that this mirror did in fact create a portal. One to some other realm.

Could he have truly survived then?

At first, Nabooru offered little more than a stoic nod to the young man dressed in green, gold eyes sharpening once more. She re-sheathed her blades and took hold of the key again. She turned around and placed it in the lock, twisting it to unlock it. The heavy chains fell away.

" I understand now why this place changed so drastically, then. I used to be able to go wherever I wanted here. " she murmured, referencing his story about this Zant character causing trouble all over Hyrule. His influence must have followed him here and, if he did not want these two to follow him, he likely made the grounds inaccessible to most who would try.

" But now, there are more monsters than ever. More obstacles and locked doors... " She paused then met Link's gaze again. " I'm coming with you. I want to see that mirror. I want to go to that other realm with you. "

his people? link wasn’t even from the kingdom of hyrule and he was chosen by the gods to save it. besides, what did he have to do with the actions of others? if anything, link was right now trying to fix the choices and mistakes of others ( with not even so much as a say ): still this courageous one was not heartless, he sympathized with her plight but was unsure how he could even help in this situation? for starters, it was far too much to explain. too many words of destiny and prophecies of old being carried out in a more modern age. just where did one start? in all the wisdom relaid to him by the light spirits—this was never a thing of note. most people encountered him and either already assumed link a hero or assumed he was in the budding stage ready to bloom into one.

the women may be a warrior but he was too. however, as clumsy and misplaced as his words could be at times ( honestly a lot of the time ): link knew that many battles did not have to be fought with weapon in hand but also knew sometimes the toughest of wars could be seized with just a bit more understanding and a lot less bloodshed. even so, where did he begin? surely not at the beginning nor the middle and he hadn’t reached the end quite yet—so where?

as his thoughts raced he noticed the shift in the women, how her energy now dripped with anger, bitterness, and anger. link could also do what he did best and choose the third path. ❛    so ya want me ta start wif’ da twilight coverin’ hyrule or da whole wolf thang or the girl that’s laughin’ at me inside my shadow? ❜ because seriously, who would believe link—link didn’t even believe link and he was experiencing it, living it.

still, he had enough monsters to fight. he didn’t need to add a telma lookalike to the list, unless he really had too and link really did not want to have too. if link could fix just one thing he thought so wrong about hyrule is that it had far too many people who where quick to go for blood and not enough trust in one another, but, he supposed, a blind trust in others had also been the cause of many a war before too.

❛    tryna find da mirror of twilight but gotta deal wif’ da boss dat on’ want me ta. ❜ 

was that too much information at once? well good thought link because she had asked and he graciously delivered. all of this was confusing and required a touch he didn’t exactly have. he was good at fighting, all matters of flora and fauna—but not this. people where much too fickle for his taste, it was why he stayed silent in the vast majority of situations. much easier than this. but maybe he should start at the beginning, didn’t all great tales first hook the reader with a fascinating opening arc? at least that was how it was all in the stories he’d read until his very life became one. 

❛    got pulled inta da twilight, turnt into a wolf, met da girl ya jus’ seen—from dat otha realm—wen’ lookin’ fa som’ pieces of fused shadow—think dark magical masks—dey got taken, midna—da girl name—got really… sick cause she like allergic to light n’ wen’ ta see zelda den she touched her n’ faded away but now midna ain’t sick no mores n’ we lookin’ fo’ dis thang—mirror of twilight—ta get inta her realm so i can kick zant’s ass—he’s the one that put perpetual dusk over hyrule. ❜ 

the further into the topic link got the more his ordonion slang worsened and his sentences ran into one another, he could only hope he wouldn’t have to do that again, because he wouldn’t. infact, maybe he should’ve just stayed in his wolf form at least then link wouldn’t have to try to have someone make sense of the chaos that was being a hero chosen by the gods.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin to Yon Rah (Part 3)

She goes by many monikers. In this town she will be Bora. At the last one she was Yukia and the one before that it was Yukia but spelled without the ‘Y’. In the next town she will be Zu-Ri. Her stomach is achy and rumbling by the time she sees its shambled skyline and she dreads that she has only come upon a ghost town. She isn’t even there yet and she is already crying tears of frustration. She doesn’t have much energy left, if this is a dead end, she will simply find herself a house to curl up and die in. She will try to find a nicer looking one so that the dust coating her bones will have an aesthetic that is darkly pleasing to behold; a princess dying without a name in the husk of a nameless town that had been abandoned long before she’d come.

Her mongoose-lizard is growing weaker too. It moves more sluggishly and she considers that she may not even make it into town. That her bones will lay in a field. Granted, there is poetry in that too; the thought of floral vines curling around her ribcage  and fire lilies blossoming from her mouth and eye sockets--life in death. And in death she’d give more life than she had when she was alive.

She can no longer keep her head up. She is weak and thirsty. It is now up to her mount to get her to town. She closes her eyes. She  supposes that death isn’t so terrible after all now that it is coming to whisk her away.

Azula doesn’t think that she will wake up, but when she does it is to a cool rag on her head and the smell of chowder. She doesn’t much like chowder, but Agni does it smell heavenly now. She can taste it on her tongue and the taste is warm and inviting. There is another smell in the air, she thinks that it might be bread. She isn’t sure that she has a reason to, but she smiles.

“I was worried that ya weren’t gonna wake up.” Remarks a gruff voice.

Azula sits up, her head pounds lightly but the ache in her stomach is easing up. She is inclined to guess that the man had fed her at least a little. A dizziness clouds her head and it must show on her face because the man moves to hold her steady and the lower her back onto the pillow.

“Easy now.”

She tries to keep her eyes open but finds herself drifting off again. It doesn’t feel as though much time has passed but when she comes to for a second time, the sun filters through the cracked window from a different angle. The man is still sitting there, he has a fire in the center of the room, she smells more soup.

He doesn’t notice her sit up this time. It doesn’t matter, she doesn’t feel quite so dizzy, though her stomach is rumbling again. A quick once over is all that she needs to know that she has, in fact, found a ghost town. She is sheltered in the hollowed guts of a house, chunks of plaster and stone litter the floor amid dust and dirt and teenier fragments of the wall and collapsing ceiling. There are a few pieces of furniture in the room; a chair that is missing a leg, a cracked mirror, and a discolored and dirty sofa with the stuffing weeping from a hole that has probably been created by chipmunk-mice.

The man glances over his shoulder. He is much older than she, at least her father’s age, and sports a rugged beard and scraggly hair. He offers her a smile. “I hope that ya don’t mind chowder, it’s all that I know how to cook well.”

“That’s fine.” She replies. Evidently she is willing to eat damn near anything at this point. “Where’s my mongoose-lizard?”

He jabs his thumb towards the window. “Have ‘im tied up out there. Ya can bring ‘im in if ya want.”

She shakes her head, “he’ll be fine out there, I can’t imagine that many people pass through here.”

“Yer the first I’ve seen.” He hands her a bowl of chowder. “I only have one bowl, but I’ll let ya use it first.”

She nods again and cups her hands around it. It is pleasantly hot on her hand and it smells divine. As divine as fish can smell. She supposes that the vegetable touch makes it more bearable. It doesn’t taste as unappetizing as she had anticipated.

“Where are ya headed?”

She shrugs as she takes another bite. She eats faster than she probably should, at an impolite, rather greedy pace. The sort that her father would have chastised her for. This man seems faintly humored, delighted even. “Good, right? My wife taught me how to make it!”

“I don’t usually eat fish. I don’t like fish.” She takes another bite. “So if I can actually tolerate it, it must be well made.” She clarifies.

He chuckles. “Good to know.”

She hands him the emptied bowl.

“Feeling better now.”

“Quite.”

“Yer Fire Nation nobility aren’t ya?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Ya talk like one’a the educated folk. I also ain’t hear no Earth Kingdom folk with that kin’a accent.”

“And it doesn’t bother you. To talk with a Fire National?”

“War’s been over for a few years now. Yer kin’s as good as my kin.” She thinks, fleetingly that her kin is better than his. Superior. She keeps that much to herself. She is, afterall, on the same level as he. At least for the time being. She ought not be. She ought to be in the palace getting pampered. Again she wonders what has compelled her to flee so far from home. She can only chalk it up to the throes of insanity. No. That isn’t it at all. It was a moment of clarity. She can’t yet bring herself to admit it, but she needs to change. If not she, than something in her life needs to change. And this propels her here.

“Why are you here all alone?” She inquires.

He chuckles again, “I believe I asked you first.”

She gives an indignant snort, “I’m not headed anywhere at all…” She trails off.

“Hmm…”

She pulls her legs up to her chest and listens to the crackle of the fire. “Can I accompany you for a while?”

He mulls it over. “These plains are mighty lonely.” He agrees. “How’s this? Ya let me ride on the mongoose-lizard and I’ll help you replenish your food supply.”

It sounds well enough to her. “We’ll spend the night here and depart at sunrise.”

“Ya cold?”

“A little, yes.”

He shuffles around in his pack, pulls out a blanket, and hands it to her. “I just washed it in the river earlier taday.”

On this night she learns what it means to be generous.

.oOo.

When she tries to stand, she finds that it is difficult. She is still so sapped and spent. She takes one step and nearly topples. Sokka catches her and leads her back to the bed. She curls herself up under the covers and closes her eyes. If nothing else she can savor the plushness of the mattress and the fluffiness of the pillows. It is nice to get reacquainted with luxury even if it is somewhat disorienting. She snuggles her cheek against the silk bed sheets and yawns.

“I take it, that you’d rather get a tour some other time?” Sokka asks.

“Yes, another time.” Azula replies. “I don’t feel well.”

“You look a little pale under that sunburn.”

She is too tired to muster up a sardonic response.

“Should I get one of the doctors?”

Azula shakes her head. “I just need more rest, I think.”

“Do you want me to stay or am I just annoying?”

“Yes.”

“Yes I’m annoying or yes I can stay?”

“Yer annoying but you can stay.”

He laughs.

“Yer supposed to be offended.”

“I’m not laughing at that.” Sokka gives a goofy grin.

“What then?”

“Nothing.” He wipes a tear from his eye. “yer just different is all.”

She rolls away from him, a tinge of pink spreading over her cheeks. “I can still do unspeakably horrible things to you, peasant.” She warns.

“You won’t though.”

“How do you know?”

“I can just tell.” He shrugs. “Can you tell me about it? About your travels; I have a feeling that you’ve got some good stories.”

She shakes her head. “I’m going to try to sleep, Sokka.”

“Alright, well I’ll tell you a few stories!”

Azula groans. She thinks that this might only serve to encourage him. Bothersome it may be, but she can’t help but feel comforted. Once again, she isn’t alone anymore.