© 2003 Justin Brown

September 24, 2002 (Started)

by

Justin Brown

*

Sometimes the rain seemed to have a mind of its own, beating down on her with drops that were cold, fat, and seemingly with no more concern other than to inflict bodily harm. The thought of being out here, being so cold that she felt it grip a firm hold on her body like a tightening band of steel, made her shake more from fear than from the chill in the air itself, as if she were suddenly afraid of the dark, regressing back into a child and if suddenly the sky roared with thunder and flashed with lightning she would drop to her haunches and cower until the storm passed. She was soaked and each second that passed she felt the cold more and more until she thought she was going to die. She knew she was alright even though she felt like she were living a nightmare, she knew that she was in fact sane but the feeling of unease passed through her just the same, running its course like a bitter poison searching for her heart. It was like a small voice in the back of her mind telling her to wake up. But she was awake and staring down and she knew what lay at her feet was not the false realities created in dreams, the warped visions formed from the deepest recesses of the mind, but the cold reality that was almost too much for her to witness. The sun had set long ago, and the moon that hung low above her was sour and pregnant with a darkness that betrayed the feeble light it was generous enough to pass on to the ground below, a diseased light that showered her with the possibilities of harm. The gray faced moon was in truth bright, but seemed to offer little guidance and the lack of effort caused further chills to run down her spine making her body shake with spasms that had little to do with the cold. She was all there, but when she closed her eyes, she wished that when she opened them she would be then staring at the ceiling of her canopy bed in the castle and instead of the musty fetid odor of ruin, she would breath deep the sweet smell of fresh cut field flowers slowly drying.

But instead it was still the same sight, the gravestone, blank except for the strange etchings marked across the stone that retained its mystery from her. Behind her, through the rushing sound of the rain and wind she heard the ragged breathing of her guide, coughing and then wheezing again and she closed her eyes once again, remembering what she had been told earlier. "Do not meddle in issues not of your own. Lest his fate will be your own."

"It is here he had been laid. An unmarked grave desecrated." The guide said, his voice was low and raspy, aged by years of abuse. "Laid upon for all to forget, but as an example of the past and a mark for the future." She opened her eyes and stared at the gravestone, an unpolished and irregular slab of granite. A rushed job. She licked her lips, ready to speak for the first time since sneaking out of the castle. But fearing as much as the question burning on her lips, but also for the answer she would get in generous return.

"How long?"

"Somewhere between three days and a year. Time is of no concern anymore. Darkness has already found its way inside."

"Why?" She knew the answer before she asked the question, but she needed to hear someone else speak it, because maybe then she would understand it better.

"Because, life is the illusion. Death is the reality."

A riddle? A curse? A threat? She had not idea what its meaning held, or to what cause. "Do not meddle in issues not of your own. Lest his fate will . . .

*

". . .will be your own."

Even after time has passed, the voice was still there with her, she could still remember how it changed, slithered from calm to hatred almost as if it were ice melting in the afternoon sun. And the burning desire in his eyes, like two small fires burning somewhere so deep that nothing would ever be able to touch them.

"Life is the illusion. Death is the reality." She whispered to herself, hoping that she would by speaking it, help her uncover what it means. But it was to no avail, as mysterious as ever. She thought maybe there was no meaning to it, just a nonsense remark uttered for no reason other than to rattle her nerves. And it had succeeded, even after a year in passing, remembering those eight words, two phrases did more to her than any nightmare she had ever created in all the years of her life. And the man, or demon as she liked to think of him, disappeared shortly after his vague remark. And ever since she had been driving herself near crazy trying to find out what had happened, to uncover the meaning to the remark. She didn't want to think that he was dead, it would be too difficult to handle if it were true, she didn't know what would happen to the balance if he weren't there anymore to hold up the third alliance. It was within him, but she didn't know if it would die along with him. She didn't want to think about that, because she didn't know what would happen if it did. She remembered hearing once that thinking someone was dead was the same as wishing they were dead. But when she stood before the grave, the mark of Ruin clawed as its name, she found it too difficult to think otherwise. She wondered if she would feel differently if his name had indeed been carved into the rough slab of granite, that way knowing for sure where he laid.

"Things happen all the time. Yet, things happen for a reason." The slightly deep voice spoke from behind. "Peace is only acquired if you let go." Even through the rough tone, she could detect a hint of sorrow burning at the back. She turned around, away from the window she was standing before. Outside the sky was still dark, but the sky at Death Mountain was alit with the slow march of morning. She was tired, but the thought of sleep seemed remote, so far off and useless. With sleep comes dreams, with dreams come nightmares and she didn't want anymore nightmares. Periods of restful sleep terminated by the growling cry growing louder and louder until she was sitting up in bed shaking and soaked with sweat.

"Is that what it is? I'm not too sure of much lately. Impa, I feel a darkness not like ever before, inside of me, deep like a disease wrecking my body. I need to know everything that has happened to him, if for anything to know just so I could sleep a peaceful night."

"A peaceful night…" Impa mused staring off across the room, she was seated near the hearth were a fire burned bright and warm, but she was as cold as if she were sitting outside. She found herself after a while, not even aware, but had turned her gaze to the licking flames and was staring in them almost as if that was where she would find the answers to the questions smoldering in her mind. She knew something was wrong with the world, the sudden darkness that set in so long ago was not so much a darkness that blocked the daylight, but a seeping darkness that found a way into everything with an opening and corrupted it. As much as the princess was worried, Impa was more worried for her for just the sake of how strong hearted she was. She was prone to doing things that were not usual actions of a princess, so she kept her mouth shut for the most part, for fear that it would give her ideas.

"Time is of no matter anymore. That's what the old man said, more or less. Could such a thing be true, Impa?" The princess turned back towards the window and was staring up at the unhurried sunrise and watched the creeping shadows crawling around the mountain. "If he's dead I have to see it for myself."

"No you don't either." Impa was not prepared for that, truthfully she wasn't prepared for much of anything lately, the daily routine had been terribly thrown askew ever since she was told of the old man and the nameless grave. Not since the princess came sneaking back into the castle last night had she been prepared for anything, even though she had a lingering intuition that she would do something sooner or later. She was just not prepared for it to be so soon. "Your father will have something to say about this and you know full well he will not approve you it."

"He need not to know about it. Don't you think, Impa? I mean, please." The princess was no longer at the window, but crossing the room, past the bed and kneeling in front of her attendant, covered by the warm aura of the fire, like a soft veil. "I know it's not smart and clever, but I need to know."
"I suppose you do, you are linked together by the Triforce. But princess you must realize, this is too dangerous."

"I'm not a child anymore, I know full well what can happen to me and I am prepared for the most part for anything." And I can deal with everything else as it comes up, I hope.

"You're heart is set then, you are going to exhume his body to satisfy your heart?" Impa stared up at the princess' face and in her eyes saw more than the fiery images reflected in them and knew that nothing she said further would convince her differently. She lowered her head, "When you are done, will you come home and accept it?" Her voice held a more sorrowful note to it than the princess had ever witnessed before and she took both her hands into her own and tried to smile weakly.

"But if he's not there then there is hope. Hope that maybe we still have a chance to take back what is ours, no matter how much we loose. Impa, we have to have hope. When we lose that then we have signed our lives away. No matter what there is, I won't accept that he is dead until I see his body with my own eyes, and even then I'll find it hard to accept."

*
There was a feeling about the place that she found uneasy, the halls were quiet except for the sound of her footfalls and her breathing. Passing by a window she stopped and gazed out at the moon, still bright and pregnant with a dread light but it was fading as the night was slowly giving up its fight to the approaching dawn. She had no clear view of the mountain and she was grateful for that, but knew better than anything else that she would be seeing it again soon, and probably many times after that. She wasn't sure what secrets it held for her, but she was positive that there was something there for her and she didn't know for what cause. The view from the window where she stood looked down across the courtyard, the fountain in the center square, the guards room at the gate was lit and quiet amber light spilled out the slotted windows and cascaded across the ground. It was quite outside, which was not unusual but there was something about the night which stirred like an ill breeze. It had stopped raining sometime ago, but the air had a presence to it that made her feel as if it hadn't really stopped but merely was deceiving her. She regarded this as strange, but with something to go by she looked past the gates out toward the fields, everything past the gate was lost in a swirling void of night. Several hours would need to pass before she would be able to see anything without having to picture it in her mind.

The window and the hall were behind her and the distance between were steadily increasing as she moved deeper into the castle, the halls had become narrower and darker, and she didn't want to be seen so she refused to take a torch or even a lamp along with her. She kept her hand up against the cool stone of the wall as she wound her way down the stairwell, the air had a musty smell of disuse, deeper down a heavy mineral scent became stronger and stronger that by the time she reached the foot of the stairs she could taste its bitter flavor. The passage she had decided on taking was not a complete secret, but not one well known among many of the people working in the castle. She remembered Impa showing her when she was younger and had used it since on several occasions to sneak out. At the bottom of the steps the passage narrowed dramatically, where the stairwell was wide enough for two people to descend or ascend side by side, the passage below was now barely wide enough for her walk down without having to keep her back flat against the wall. She moved down the passage slowly, but not because she wanted to. She felt her heart racing, as well as her thoughts. She wanted to get through her as soon as possible because until she was out of the castle, she knew there was still the possibility that she could get caught by one of the guards. And she didn't want to have to worry about that. Her thoughts ran from one thing to the next, the prospect of opening the unnamed grave and finding his body, and far off she could already taste the sharp tang of vomit getting ready to make its presence know. And thinking of what she would do if the grave proved to be empty, just as she hoped it would be. She thought again of the mountains and wondered if that was where she was headed, she had the feeling before that she would probably be heading that way, but now as she was slowly making her way to the end of the passage, she was beginning to wonder where she really had to go. If not the mountains, then where?

She found that question impossible to answer, so she pushed it out of her mind and focused right now on getting out of the castle.

But the whole is the blood ruin resurrection. Suddenly came to her and she didn't know what it meant. She couldn't remember ever hearing it before, but the voice was familiar. But whatever the case, the sound of it did not appeal to her. She tried to shake it free from her mind, and get back to focusing on getting outside, but it stayed with her like the fleas on the mangy mutts that scrounged the courtyard for food at night. Blood ruin? She found herself dwelling on it as she neared the end of the passage, and the closer she got to the end, the stronger the feeling of dread came over her. She had not felt like degree of fear ever since she was told that he had been killed and buried by the lake. She found herself rushing to get out, that the small passage was getting even smaller and the air had taken a heavy feeling to it that was pressing against her like little hands reaching to suffocate. It is forsaken, Zelda. The same voice spoke again, and if before she had thought maybe she had conjured up the voice in affect to her dreary surroundings, now she new that she had not. Even though she recognized the voice, it was still as alien to her as was being a commoner.