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The Legend of Zelda : Twisted Legacy	By : Gamesplayers Category: Zelda > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2177 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Legend of Zelda except my own, original characters, and I make no profit out of this fanfiction, nor any other.

Chapter List
- 1-The Legend of Zelda : Twisted Legacy
- 2-I
- 3-II
- 4-III
- 5-IV
- 6-V
- 7-VI
- 8-VII
- 9-VIII
- 10-IX
- 7
- 8
- 9
VII
Midna woke up suddenly, her eyes focused on the ceiling.
Where am I?
She sat up and cried in pain and surprise, and let herself fall back on the bed.
So it wasn't a dream…
She stared at the pale ceiling, ignored the violent sunlight coming from the open windows. Below, in the streets, people were walking by and the noises of the market came to her.
A soft, warm breeze blew in the bedroom.
With her fingertips, she searched the bed beside her… the spot beside her thigh… But there was nothing where dried sperm and blood should have been. Midna looked down at her hand, realized that the sheets had been changed. She didn't know when he had done it, but he had, and without waking her up.
She rose on her elbows, pressed her weight against her forearm. Slowly, grunting as she did so, she sat up, parting her legs. Midna waited, stared at the blanket covering her lower body. Then, slowly, she pulled it down.
And there it was, on her thighs and crotch: the dark, dried blood. There wasn't much, but it was there nevertheless.
She covered herself up to her shoulders.
She looked around, pushed her hair away from her face. Beside the bed, on a nightstand, there was a large bowl filled with water. Beside it, a few linen washcloths laid, waiting for her. With caution, she crawled up to the side of the bed.
Midna got up with no grace. She stood up naked, her back to the window. Goosebumps raised on her skin as she glared at the door, hoping it was locked tightly.
She plunged her fingertips in the water: it was still warm.
Slowly, she cleaned herself. The water inside the bowl took a reddish-orange tint.
When she was done, she dressed up. Brushing her hair with her fingers, she walked around the large bedroom, trying to adjust to that new pain, to that new feeling in her body.
And she remembered everything. Clearly. Every detail.
She was calm and thought that, maybe, she shouldn't be. She was worthless, now… A woman who wasn't a virgin was hard to marry… And an unwed woman had no value…
She casted her gaze down.
Though Midna opposed herself to the conditions of her sex, she knew that there were little things she could do to change this. All she could do was to accept her fate.
Like her mother before her.
She shook her head, gathered her little belongings and left the bedroom.
Gregory's small mansion was quiet, though she could hear the servants who were doing what they had to. And she stopped in the hall, wondered how they would react if they saw her… What would they say… What-
"Lady Midna? Are you alright?"
The young woman's face became white as she saw a servant she did not knew. "Y-yes…"
The middle-aged woman smiled to her. "Master Gregory had breakfast prepared for you. You know where to go?"
Midna stood quiet, speechless for a moment. Wasn't this woman troubled to see her? Wasn't it weird for Gregory to have such a younger female staying overnight at his mansion? In his bedroom?
"Lady Midna?"
"Yes, I know." She whispered.
The servant nodded, smiling. She walked away, not paying any more attention to the noble girl.
Maybe it was common for him to have women staying when Nicolas was away? Or even when he was there? Midna felt suddenly nauseous as she realized that she knew little of the man she had just slept with…
She made her way to the dining room, where she hoped she would find Gregory. She had no intention to argue with him. But they needed to talk… Didn't they? After doing this… People talked, right?
She felt confused. She felt more and more distressed.
Midna pushed the double doors to the dining room with no strength. The doors opened slowly, as if it were a ghost who tried to penetrate the room. Gregory stared at the door as they took an eternity to pen. He wasn't surprised to see Midna, looking dazzled, ghostly. She entered the dining room slowly, casted her gaze down on him, calm. Confused.
Feeling uneasy under her stare, Gregory cleared his throat.
"… Please, sit down…" He finally invited her, pointing to a chair facing a rich breakfast.
She did not move.
"… Is something wr-"
"Do you often bring woman to your bed?" Her voice was soft.
Gregory stared at her, speechless.
"Do you?"
He blinked. "…No… No, I don't, Midna."
"Then why are your servants not surprised to see me here?" Her voice was dead, stuck in her throat. She looked hurt. She looked confused. She misunderstood the situation.
Gregory got up. He grabbed her arms softly, pulled her to him. "Midna. I warned them you were here."
"Isn't it weird to them?" Her brows fell, her eyes plunged into his. "Or is it usual of you?"
"No..." He ignored her second question. "I explained the situation to them."
"Explained… what...?"
"That you needed to get away from home and came here for the night." He lowered his voice, looked at the door before continuing. "I went to… Undo Nicolas' bed this morning… So they believed I had slept there…"
She stared at him.
"So you don't sleep with many women?"
He smiled softly, finding her juvenile preoccupations cute. "No."
"Why?"
"I'm not interested, Midna. That is all." He let go of her, suddenly looking saddened, turned around and walked back to his chair. "Eat, it'll do you some good."
Midna nodded and looked down at her hands before walking to her seat, and her plate. She decided that she shouldn't push this subject farther for the moment.
She ate in silence.
He did some paperwork meanwhile, turning his back to her.
And when the silence wasn't bearable anymore, she looked up at him. "My parents… They'll be worried…"
Gregory shook his head softly. He prepared his pipe, filling it with tobacco. "No. I warned your father earlier this morning."
"You told him the same thing you said to your servants?"
He nodded, lighting a match and pressing it inside the tobacco which turned red. He took a few puffs as he unlit the match by shaking it. "Yes."
"And they didn't ask anything more? It was fine with them?"
"They were worried and about to start looking for you. They were relieved to know your whereabouts, and that you were with me. Your mother wanted your immediate return. Isca said to take your time before going back. In the end, she agreed."
Midna sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders. "Oh Goddesses, thank you…" She whispered, resting her head on her hand. "And thank you too."
He groaned for an answer.
She finished eating in silence, staring at her plate. He smoked without saying a word, looking at the wall.
When she was done, she slowly got up. Gregory looked at her, remarked the uneasiness of her movements.
He said nothing, his eyes fleeing.
"I… will be going back." She paused, waited to see if he would be saying, doing anything. "Thank you for your hospitality…" She whispered, heart sinking, as she started to make her way out the room and progressively out of the mansion.
Gregory watched her walk away.
He wanted to stop her.
He didn't.

"Oh, by the Goddesses above, Midna! Are you alright?" Tatl's pressed her hands around the girl's face.
The young woman nodded, her heart heavy.
"Are you hungry? Do you need something?" Asked the Twili, smiling to her daughter, tears in her eyes.
Midna whispered something.
"What? I didn't hear you, darling." She caressed her daughter's face.
"A bath."

Legs pressed against her breasts, and her arms wrapped around her knees, Midna stared at the water in which she bathed. Her wet hair hanged around her face like dead, angular snakes.
She had locked the bathroom door and had even put a chair under the knob to be sure it would stay locked.
She stayed in the tub until the water started to be cool. Then, shivering lightly, she got up, stood in the middle of the water like a raising mermaid.
In front of the bathtub, there was a mirror.
She stared at herself with dead eyes, cold eyes. She had a woman's body –her mother's body-. She had the same build, the same skin, the same curves but only thinner. She had the same hair, but darker. The same face… The same mouth… The same-
She was her mother's image.
She had given her body to a man out of wedlock.
She was a whore.
She was like her mother…
And even worse.
Midna stepped out of the bathtub. She grabbed Kar's razor which hadn't moved since his disappearance.
Heart beating madly, she walked to the mirror.
She lifted the blade up to the level of her throat and…
A tear falling on her cheek, she cut a first strand of hair.
Slightly under her chin.
She waited, stared at the shorter strand… And grabbed a handful of hair, slashed through it.
Soon, her feet were covered with these dead snakes, soon, she was not the same Midna anymore.
Without blinking, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her short hair was starting to dry, take twists of their own. She looked wild. Wilder than before.
And she smiled to herself, cried at the same time as she opened her fingers around the last snake, the last strand of her childhood.
She was a woman, now.

Isca rolled his eyes and growled softly as he massaged his forehead for the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours. Should he search the desert, once more, to try to find Kar? Yes, he had sent patrols over there more than once, but still… There were no traces, no clues of where he might have been-
Somewhere in the mansion Tatl and Midna were arguing, no, screaming. Again. And it tore the knight away from his thoughts.
He got up, took all the time in the world he needed to perfectly line up every sheet, parchment or feather on the desk before daring to go out and join his sweet family for dinner.
Yet, the screams and cries increased. He stopped, listened for good.
And now, he couldn't make out the words the two women kept yelling at each other, but the violence was there, in their voices.
He exited the office, intending to stop his wife and daughter from murdering each other.
Quickly, he walked into the hall, following the sound of the female hysteria, which came from the floor below. In the corridor, Mathias' head popped out of his bedroom.
"Father? What's-"
He received Isca's hand on his face and was pushed back into his bedroom, falling right on his chair, sitting. And utterly confused.
"Stay out of this." Commanded Isca from the corridor, his low voice echoing in the hall.
Mathias blinked, confused and perplexed. Slowly, he got up, went for his bed… But turned around and decided to go see by himself what was making his sister and mother screaming at each other so madly.
He ran to the corridor, followed his father who was already far ahead of him.
Midna and Tatl were together in a large living room on the first floor, screaming at each other madly. The mother was about to hit the daughter. The daughter wasn't far from spitting at her mother.
And it had all started like this:
"Midna… You cut your hair? Why?"
"I felt like it." Had answered the daughter, arrogantly.
"Midna! You can't just do things like these without telling us before!" Tatl's voice was still motherly at that point.
"Why? It's my body! I can do whatever I want with it!" She had glared at her mother while raising her voice.
"It may be your body, young woman, but we are still your parents and must know about such things!"
"And I guess you told your parents when you got pregnant out of wedlock!?"
And this was the point where the argument had gotten violent.
Now, both women were screaming at each other, at the same time, without listening to whatever the other one had to say.
Tatl raised her hand.
Midna screamed at her to dare to hit her.
When the door burst open, almost broke in two, and Isca appeared, alerted. "What in the world is going on here?!" He roared.
Both women went quiet, stared at him with wide eyes.
And behind, there was a great noise as Mathias tumbled down the stairs.
"I-I'm fine!" Screamed the young man as he got up, replaced his hair and clothes.
Isca glared at him, returned his attention to the females.
Tatl, hand raised, and Midna seemed to have forgotten to argue as they stared at Mathias and Isca, completely shocked.
Isca sighed. "What happened?"
Both women looked at him as if he was a mad ghost.
"Huh?" asked Midna.
"You were screaming." Pointed Mathias whose head popped up behind Isca.
"Oh."
"She cut her hair." Answered Tatl, calmly. "And insulted me." She lowered her hand, turning her back on her daughter.
Isca looked at the young woman. Midna suddenly lowered her gaze, crossed her hands over her lap.
"Why have you done that?" Asked her father, not knowing what else to ask.
She shrugged. "I wanted to."
"And this is why you were about to murder each other?" Isca's voice raised in disbelief, exhaustion. "Really?"
Tatl glared at him. "No. I was asking her calmly why she had done this when she became arrogant and insulted me. We're talking about hair, I wouldn't become this hysterical over hair!" She threw her arms in the air, exasperated.
"I didn't insult you." Replied Midna, still arrogant, as she looked at her mother disdainfully. "I said the truth, you-"
Tatl turned around, about to slap the girl.
Isca caught her wrist softly, pulled her towards him, and looked at Midna. "Whatever your reasons are, Midna, you have to pay respect to your mother."
The girl looked away.
"Look at me." He commanded.
Reluctantly, she obeyed.
"Are you listening?"
Behind, Mathias walked away, thanking the Goddesses above not to be Midna, right now.
The young woman nodded, slowly, casting her eyes down. "Yes…"
"Good. I don't ever want to hear again that you disrespected her or anyone in this family or anywhere else, is that clear?"
She nodded.
Isca stared at her a moment. She stayed still. He sighed, shaking his head lightly.
Tatl got away from him. She left the room, quiet.
Mathias followed behind.
Isca stayed with Midna for a moment. They did not speak. She was frozen like ice, hidden in herself as her now short, unruly hair camouflaged her face.
And not knowing what to do with his daughter, Isca decided to leave the room too.
And Midna was left alone.
Crying.

Isca sighed. He tore his eyes away from Kira's silhouette as she disappeared into the tavern's crowd. Gregory had only stayed with them briefly, his mind visibly somewhere else.
The knight stared down at his hydromel. He had taken the habit to drink. Too much. Too often. He knew it well. It had become somewhat of a need ever since… the boy was gone.
Had he failed as a father this much? He wondered. Kar had always wanted him close and he had denied this child his affection. It wasn't the boy's fault if his mother had betrayed Isca… Kar couldn't know, hadn't known all this time, until the very end, that he wasn't of the right blood…
Kira had stopped most of her tentative to seduce the knight commander when Kar disappeared, and therefore, Isca was not surprised to find the gorgeous pirate hiding her warmth behind a mask of austerity when she had announced him what he already knew: her contract would end when he'd get what he had paid for, which was Hyrule's throne.
Now, Gregory was acting weirdly and it bothered his captain, for he felt that without his lieutenant by his side, he wouldn't be able to do what he thought Hyrule needed him to.
Isca would never be a hero, he knew this. And he had no real pretention over the power that came with the idea of ruling the Golden Kingdom, no. But he had worked all his life to serve and protect this land and under the queen's new politics, it was the kingdom itself that was slowly descending into anarchy. And, not wanting to listen to her men, Zelda was leaving little choice to a man of good such as Isca.
Soon, he would take over Hyrule.

The wind blew and the sun started to set.
Like every night, the beach and that village that had no name became gold: the sand, the houses, the forest and even the folks and fishers. Everything shone like the sun.
Link, sitting in the wooden staircase to his house, rested his elbow on his thigh and his head against his palm. He stared at the sky, at the sea as the wind blew against him, in his hair. Beside him, Vodka nuzzled his leg.
The self-exiled Hylian chuckled lightly as he petted the wolf.
It was a big creature: a white, large mountain wolf that had ended up near Termina while its habitat laid in the Snowpeaks –in Hyrule-, with his kin. There were no logical explanations as to how the beast had ended up on the Hylian's path, and no one would ever know but the wolf itself.
And looking down at the big dog –for Vodka acted like a dog sometimes-, Link smiled as he remembered his meeting with the wolf: sick in the forest after he had abandoned Erk in Clock Town (or had Erk abandoned him?), he would never have made it anywhere if Vodka hadn't been there. A lonely, sick young man had met with a lonely, healthy, young male wolf.
Link chuckled.
He had named Vodka after an alcohol he had discovered in Clock Town: the vodka was a pale, transparent drink that could knock-out even a Goron: it was swift and strong, stung and hit with precision; it made him think of the winter, and so did the white wolf from the forest.
Vodka groaned and sat up abruptly. His head was at the same height as Link's. He stared at his chosen master before getting up on his paws and sprinting away.
There was no need to call it back or to check on what it was doing: Link knew that the wolf would be back soon enough and he was well aware that the villagers didn't fear him much anymore.
They had been in this village for over ten years.
Link sighed and straightened up. He ran his hands through his hair.
Every night, when the sun was setting and he was there, watching it, he had a thought for Hyrule. He didn't know why, but the setting sun on the sea made him think of his homeland. His hate for the Golden Land hadn't died with the time or the years, no; it had matured, merely, to the point where he couldn't know if he loathed the kingdom where he was born or if he missed these arid lands.
He sighed again, closing his eyes.
Often, he wondered what happened of Sheik and Olwen. He wished they were still together, happy, and that sometimes, they had a thought for him. He hoped.
Most of the time, he tried not to think of Tatl. Even after all these years, he felt guilty for abandoning her the way he had. He had left her on his own will, he had gotten away, decided to block his feelings –or what remained of them- so his runaway would be easier. For him. Yet, something was still there when he thought of her. It was not love, but perhaps a very faint pinch to the heart, a sprout of nostalgia hidden somewhere.
And then he would wonder, always, what if?
But he knew deep inside that she had remarried and was probably Isca's beautiful and noble wife. He knew she had a child, would have easily bet that she had more with the knight over the years.
But that first child…
He shook his head.
No, he wasn't necessarily that first child's father. Tatl had been with both of them for a while… It could have been Isca's. It had to be.
He got up, looked at the house and wondered what Melody was doing.
Hands in his pockets, he walked towards the forest, slowly. Vodka joined him, tongue hanging by the side of its mouth.
They walked together, going nowhere for a short while. Link was one of the rare villagers who dared to go in the village's forest for it was supposed to be haunted by a witch they had named The Crazy Leaves Lady.
Not far into the forest, there was a small clearing with a little spring that the Hylian and his wolf knew well. Link sat down on a tree trunk. Vodka jumped into the spring, making a few frogs jump to safety.
Link smiled.
He felt numb that night.
The village was perfect. His house was perfect. Melody was perfect and even Vodka was. He lived in a very perfect world; in everything he had wanted when he had left Hyrule. Most of the time, he was happy, it was true. Yet, something in him had been gone for years. Something had stayed in Hyrule.
He felt empty. Had another thought for Hyrule, and the people he left behind. For Erk.
Again, he sighed.

It was fresh. The air was fresh, not too dry, neither damp. He felt comfortable, and a heavy blanket kept him warm.
Slowly, Kar woke up and groaned, noted to himself that he had slept naked, which he often did anyway. He wondered what had to be done that day, or if he would do anything at all. Everything on him felt sore: his bones, his muscles, his skin, his hair. Too much training under the sun, perhaps.
He tried to turn on his side, but found out he couldn't, for he felt that his wrists were tightly tied to the bed. A sly smile twisted his lips upwards. With who had he laid last night to be tied to the bed? Surely, if he looked beside him, he'd find the answer…
But when he lifted his heavy, heavy lids, his smile died, for he was facing a wall of stones. Sandstones.
Panic.
He tried sitting up. Found up he couldn't: not only was he strapped to a bed he didn't knew, but his muscles refused to obey. He looked around, horrified, lost: he was on a bed, in a small room, made of sandstones. There were a few windows way up above him, and a door facing his bed.
Where in the world was he?!
And then, it came back, washed through him like a tsunami, pierced his chest and mind like a sharp sword: he remembered what had happened, everything. Clearly, he lived through the events once more, in his memory, unable to push the thoughts away. He felt sick. He felt betrayed.
He felt alone.
And the desperation filled him once more. He closed his eyes, swallowed what little saliva he had and grimaced as he replayed certain parts of what had happened into his head, over and over again.
What had he done to deserve this?
Slowly, the door to his cell opened. He turned his head, opened tired, bitter eyes, preparing himself to spit at whatever guard it would be.
But he was surprised when it wasn't a guard who appeared, but a very young, redheaded, exotic-looking girl with dark skin. She gasped, whispered something he didn't understood, before exiting the room and closing the door.
A Gerudo?
What little blood he had drained from his face.
Wait. He was a male. Tied up naked to a bed. In a place in which there were Gerudos?
Oh no. No. No!
Kar had no idea if the rumors were true, but he sure didn't want to stay and risk becoming a sex slave until he'd die of exhaustion. He growled, groaned, as he pulled on his leather straps and shook them, trying to loosen their grip on his skin.
The rims of straps dug into his wrists, burning, cutting the skin. He kicked the air, found out he couldn't, for his ankles were tied as well. The blanket slid off of him, revealing him almost entirely to the world.
"Damn it!" He cursed. He was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded, as if he had swallowed gallons of sand.
And then, the door opened once more.
Two redheaded Gerudo warriors, clad in purple and with the lower part of their face hidden, entered the room, their spears in hand. They looked down at the boy, not a hint of emotion apparent on their faces.
Kar glared at them, then at their spears.
And then, a third Gerudo entered the room.
Looking up at her, the Hylian froze, for she was one of the most gorgeous women he had ever laid his eyes upon.
Wearing a suit similar to the warriors, but in emerald, the Gerudo crossed her athletic arms over her chest as she glared down, with eyes as gold as honey, at the pale boy. Contrarily to most of her people, she had jet-black hair, tied up in a tight ponytail that seemed to never end.
Her face was not veiled, remarked the Hylian boy. He wondered why.
"I hope you had a nice nap." Said the black-haired Gerudo. She had an accent, yet her hylian was perfectly clear.
Kar said nothing. He stared at her, waited. She was beautiful, it was true, but there was an aura of authority that came from her which had nothing reassuring to the young man.
She uncrossed her arms and snapped her fingers. "Un-strap him and bring him to the bath room." Her voice was commanding, yet soft.
The two warriors obeyed.
"We won't harm you." Said the pack's leader. "Unless you try something stupid, which seems to be a tendency to your kin." She raised a slender, long finger as her honey eyes became insistent. "One single move that I consider inappropriate, Hylian, and you're castrated and abandoned in the desert to bleed to death. Am I clear?"
Kar's stare hardened. He didn't move, didn't speak as the warriors untied him.
"Answer!" Commanded one of the warriors, rolling the final 'r' with much intensity, as she slapped the young man's face.
He groaned, thought about biting the woman's hand, but remembered the menace he had just received. Instead, he nodded.
"Good. Maybe you aren't as much a fool as I thought."
The warriors forced Kar to his feet. He winced and held back a loud moan as he discovered how in pain he was when he tried to stand. Walking was even worse. Jaws tightly shut; he obeyed as the warriors pushed him, with the tip of their spears, towards the door.
The corridors seemed infinite as the boy was forced to walk towards a place he didn't know, a spear constantly pressed against his shoulder, naked. Head low, camouflaged in his messed up, longer hair, he endured the torture he was going through in silence. He never dared looking up, for he couldn't bare meeting anyone's stare at the moment.
Could he be lower?
Could he be more pride less, could he be more broken than he already was?
He felt like crying. Crashing down to the ground and cry, plead for mercy.
He was an orphan, now. Dead to his family and friends, dead to his kingdom. Dead. He didn't knew for how long he had been gone, but he knew that life was continuing at the mansion, that the betrayal he had suffered wasn't known, that no one really knew how much of a victim he was.
Why?
Sincerely, he didn't understand.
He had promised not to talk, and he had held on to his words. So, why in the world, had he been dumped like garbage in the burning sands of the desert?
Now, facing another door, he was told to halt and wait. He obeyed. A warrior passed in front of him, opened the door. The steam and heat jumped into the boys face and nostrils right away as he felt that he would suffocate.
"This is bath room." Said the warrior in an approximate hylian. "You go. They take care of you."
With a firm push of the hand against his back, Kar was hurried into the bath room, the door closing behind him.
Right beside him, a woman entirely covered in white appeared. Only her eyes weren't covered. She lowered her head in respect and took his hand.
Kar didn't resist. He followed as she leaded him to the hot water. She whispered in a language he understood nothing of, so he stared at the woman's almond-shaped eyes, trying to find the answer to what she had said. She waited a moment, then seemed to notice he had no idea what she had said or what was going on. She nodded, rested a hand on his shoulder and forced him to sit down into the water.
With extreme care, the bath-woman washed the boy.
Kar said nothing, let her do her work. He looked around, remarked the room was round-shaped, made of sandstone too. There were very large openings near the ceiling, probably to let the steam evade the room and the fresh air come inside.
When the bath-lady was done, she walked away from him and waited until he looked up at her. She bowed lightly, motioned for him to get up. He remarked that her white clothes weren't wet at all.
As the boy steadied himself on his feet, she disappeared and came back right away, offering him a pile of folded, very light clothes. Quizzical, he looked at her.
"Desert… heat. Better." She whispered shyly.
"Oh… Thank you."
The bath-woman bowed lightly once more, before turning around and heading towards the door, back still turned.
Kar walked out the water slowly. He had inherited a very simple white, long-sleeved linen tunic and linen beige pants. No shoes. Apparently, shoes weren't needed in such a place.
Nevertheless, he was quite glad to get clothes to put on…
When he was done dressing, he closed-in to the bath-lady. She seemed content to see him with clothes on.
"Wait." She said, and then exited the room.
The boy obeyed. He stared at his hands: his skin was dry, reddened. By the look of it, he was slowly healing from some major sunburn. His lips were cracked too, and his face felt stiff.
The door opened once again and the two same warriors as before appeared. They grabbed the boy by the shoulders and hurried him into the corridors once more. Already, Kar suffered a little less from walking. It felt as if his whole body had lost the ability to move.
How long had he been unconscious?
"Where are you taking me?" He dared to ask, voice sounding surprisingly confident.
"Shut your mouth."
Clear enough, he thought.
They led him into corridors for a while, until they ended up into, what seemed to be, somewhat of a small throne room… But without any throne and merely a really huge, amorphous, deep red mattress on top of some pedestal, which had, at its base, a low table meant to be used by people who sat on the ground directly.
On the mattress, Kar saw an old woman. The shapeless mattress on which she sat -in the lotus position- seemed to swallow her. She was wearing grey clothes, seemingly made out of bandages, and a pointy, scarlet hat on which stones, probably magical, were randomly installed.
Kar tried to find the expression of the woman's face into her wrinkles, but he seriously wasn't sure what was supposed to be her lips in there.
However, he couldn't miss her eyes: two almond-shaped onyxes that seemed to glow with more wisdom that should be permitted by Nayru stared at him. A dry chuckle escaped her throat and rolled until it hit her teeth. And just then, she parted pale lips, making the configuration of her face clear, suddenly.
"Sit down, boy." Her voice, which rang without any accent, filled with wisdom and truth, with divination and light, echoed into the room.
Kar obeyed, his eyes glued to the old Gerudo in front of him.
"I see, into your eyes, child of Farore, that you have much to ask."
The boy stiffened. He looked around, as if making sure she was talking to him, and him alone.
Once more, she laughed. "Such youth there is in you! It is refreshing!"
"Thank you… I guess…" He whispered, unsure what to say, or do.
"Watch your tongue." Said a voice Kar had already learnt to recognize.
The Gerudo in emerald clothes walked into the room. She came to stand at the base of the pedestal, facing the Hylian boy. She crossed her arms over her chest like she had done before.
"Ohohoh! But it is fine, dear Jade. This child of Farore acts the way he has to, that is all."
Jade. Her name rolled into Kar's mind as he glared at the black-haired woman. It sure fit the way she was dressed, he thought.
"I'm listening, Child of Farore." Said the old woman, smiling. "Ask what you have in mind."
He stared at the two women, mind blank. What should he ask? He had so many interrogations on his mind, and yet... So few. With what had happened in the desert, a week, a month, or a year ago, Kar didn't knew anymore, a lot had been made clear to him.
"Don't keep our Elder waiting, brat." Jade commanded.
With disdain, the blond looked up at her, then looked up at the woman on the amorphous mattress-cushion.
"What... should I do, now?" Kar finally asked, voice weak.
The old woman kept smiling to him for an instant, and the boy wondered if she had heard him, or if his question was clear...
And then, she closed her eyes and let her head fall backward, as if she had fallen abruptly asleep. There were no movements coming from her for a long time, making the Hylian uneasy. He looked over at Jade. She was staring back, her golden-fired eyes burning his face with their intensity. He lowered his head, started to play with his hands as he waited, nervous. He hated being just like that, waiting for something he didn't knew about. It made him feel powerless -more- than he was, already.
He looked up, stared at the old woman on her pedestal. She still seemed asleep. He then addressed a worried face to Jade.
"What's going on?"
The Gerudo's shoulder shook as she laughed softly, her eyes taking an amused glow, instead of one of hostility. "You Hylians can't wait. You always need to know what to do, when to do it and how. No room for fantasy or meditation in your lives."
"She's meditating?"
"It's possible. Or maybe she isn't." She shrugged. "I'm not into her mind."
Kar stared at her. He understood what she said, but it seemed all so weird to him... Having been raised to be part of the army didn't allow one to meditate much, after all...
The old woman sat up straight. The boy's head snapped up, as he stared at her with wide eyes, almost awaiting to see something else than the old woman with wrinkles all over her face.
She smiled.
Awkwardly, Kar tried to smile back.
"Child of Farore," started the old woman, "I see clear into your future. It is a promising one." She marked a pause, studied the young Hylian's face. "Filled with hope and determination, are your eyes, Child of Farore, and I know that you are hoping that I will tell you everything."
Kar nodded, excited.
"But it is not the
case, for if I did, your life would not be yours anymore."
The boy's face fell lightly, yet he waited, patient.
"Your time in our Fortress is over." Stated the old woman, still smiling. "You shall be leaving tomorrow, by the first lights of the sun, towards the South. You shall travel through Termina and stay far from the Hylian border, for it would be your death, right now."
Kar stared at her. "You're sending me... In Termina?"
She raised her wrinkled hand and shook a long, dry finger into the air. "No. I am sending you nowhere. Your path leads you there."
Kar switched position, so he'd be on his knees. Sitting was unbearable when he was this excited. "Then what? I go to Termina, then what?"
"You go South." She closed her eyes. "I see the Great Bay. And a hidden Terminian village. By the sea shore, you will find what you are looking for."
"And what am I looking for?"
The old woman opened her eyes, stared right at Kar, pierced through him, deep into his soul. "A Legend."
A shiver ran through the boy spine as he stood still, quiet. A... Legend...? He thought to himself.
The old woman laughed softly. "And you, Jade, are to go with him."
"What?"
- 7
- 8
- 9
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The Legend of Zelda : Twisted Legacy