Slay the Princess

by GeorgiDynamo

Summary:

Mercenary,

You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of our world.

In exchange, you will be rewarded most handsomely with that which you most desperately and deeply desire.

These are the terms of this Contract, should you choose to accept it.

/

I accept.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

Soooo small preface. What I want to do here is combine various premises, themes, ideas and scenarios from Slay the Princess with elements from the Wild Era of Legend of Zelda and throwing in all my original character stuff and lore in there for good measure. Just so we a have a nice hodgepodge of things :)))

All of this is based on a role-playing session with my best mate

Silence permeated the entirety of the confinement. It was far from comfortable. Nothing in this place was meant to bring any sort of comfort. It was a stillness that was suffocating, oppressive. It dampened anything good and allowed only despair and hopelessness to fester. The constant chill it brought pressed against her slightly bruised, pale skin, it coiled around her breath and caused it to puff out in white mists, it echoed within the back of her mind with a cruel clarity that mocked any sort of lingering positive memories.

 

The one who had been once the fair Princess of Hyrule in this Era of the Wild sat curled in the farthest corner of the stone chamber. What had been her white sacred gown with golden accents was now dulled to a dirty grey, the gold having long lost its luster, the material becoming tattered and stiff with dried blood and old tears after an indefinite amount of time. She hadn’t moved much in days. Or was it weeks? Time fractured down here, melding together into a perpetual darkest night, each harder than the last. Her legs trembled when she tried to stand, the muscles having atrophied. Her body was frail, skeletal, there was no inkling that within her coursed the Blood of the Guardian Goddess Hylia, that she had a Sacred Power that could dispel evil and was beyond any regular Hylian in physiology. Any inkling of divine power that could have once surged forth to hold back the malice and calamity of the Demon King itself was gone.

 

However, it was not extinguished, no…

 

It was worse.

 

She could feel it still, a dim warmth locked beneath her ribs. But the place… this place, this Cabin, it devoured her Light. These damp and old stone brick walls did not simply nullify her powers, they outright rejected it, strangled it before it could surface. The more she tried to resist, the more exhausted she became, until even defiance felt like a luxury. Part of her had completely given up on it, another part still held on to that small sliver of hope. 

 

She had not seen her captor. Not truly. In fact, she could not quite remember how she ended up there. Her mind was clouded, fragmented. Some things remained but even thinking brought pain. Sometimes, she thought that she could see glimpses of someone descending those stairs to the basement where she was, fractured shadows but no. It was always a delirious illusion.

 

There was no voice. No answers to be had. No food. No water. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was still alive… Though living, at this point, it was more tortuous than being dead. The basement was her confinement but also that which kept her alive. 

 

Waiting… but for what?

 

She didn’t know, but she could feel something approaching. There was something, someone, a presence beyond the door in the woods, they were coming. It was… an oppressive aura, though different than the one of the Cabin, so permeating that it even reached her within the basement. Whoever it was… they were not just violent… they were like a walking nightmare, infernal.., an amalgamation of Hell's Nine Circles.

 

However, despite all that… there was a sense of… familiarity.

 

Her head ached when she tried to reach into that feeling, as if the memory danced just out of reach, bound behind centuries she shouldn’t have lived through. The name flitted at the edge of her thoughts. A knight of the highest ranks… not of Hyrule… one draped in red-yellow-blue shadows, possessing endless rage and hate.

 

She clutched her knees tighter tighter against her chest, the chain around her right wrist crinkling with the motion.

 

It wasn't real, this was only another illusion of her addled mind. There was no way someone was coming. They never did… and she didn't want to have her hopes crushed again…

 

But maybe… maybe this time… Her sunken emerald blue eyes looked above her, at the moonlight streaming through the sole window, reinforced with heavy iron bars.

 

Was he coming to save her?

 

…Or slay her?

Chapter 2

He was on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path was a Cabin. And in the Basement of that cabin was a Princess. He was there to slay her. If he didn't, it would be the end of the world.

 

Who was he?

 

He was the only one of him in all of existence. 

 

Feared, a nightmare, death incarnate. 

 

The Mercenary, Bearer of The DOOM Slayer. 

 

By his known name, Georgian Dynamo. 

 

The wind howled ominously around the twisted woodlands that sprawled around the location of his target. The trees, if they could still be called that, were gnarled silhouettes, leafless, their bark scorched black and reaching out with seemingly clawed hands, their roots twisted as though in agony. The earth beneath his feet was grassy yet dried the closer it got to the Cabin as it seemed to recoil around the structure in the center of it all. It was… an unassuming structure. A simple lonely Cabin, made of wood, with plain glass windows on the sides and a wooden door, untouched by time. However… there was no life to be found around here. No wildlife, no fauna. No birds chirping. No scent of life. Only silence… and the moonlight dimly casting its glow over the only path.

 

The demonic mutant who had taken on this task stood at the edge of the clearing within the centre of which was the Cabin, his black nanofibertech boots sinking slightly into the soil. He didn’t move, not yet. Just observed. His eyes scanned all around him, royal blue, pure, yet there was something deep inside of them, a fire, a rage and hate of endless proportions, an agony that could never be quenched, one that he would always bear, the Demon Worse Than Demons inside. His beastly senses sniffed out any potential falsehoods in the terrain while also mentally cataloguing anything. There was something very strange about that structure. It existed there but it had its own rules. This place was a pocket reality, carved out with surgical precision. A prison. Not for keeping things out but keeping one thing in. 

 

Someone else had done his job for him… and was handing him the target on a silver platter…

 

His instincts, honed through his treks through the Realms and across even Hell itself as The Second Hellwalker, told him that this was not right. From the beginning when his Watchdogs, the Multiversal Peacekeepersthat he was the Supreme Commander of, had received the details of the Contract, he knew that something was wrong. The pay was too good, the terms too simple and they did not know who it was that sent it in the first place. Reluctantly yet unwilling to potentially risk all of existence, he opted to investigate, alone. Something was wrong with the mission, especially since it brought him back to Hyrule, a land to which… he had some connection. What he did not know though was that the Contract was burned into his intentions, a pressure from an unseen hand that clawed at the edges of his will. 

 

Finish the contract. 

 

Fulfill the terms. 

 

Slay the Princess.

 

The Slayer within him snarled in rejection and he almost growled aloud, but he managed to keep it in. With a strong huff through his nose, he focused back on the here and now, moving forward on the path, one measured step at a time.

 

His black nanofibertech Splinter Cell jacket clung tightly to his muscular frame, the fibers inherently adjusting to ambient temperature, masking his presence like liquid shadow. The digital blue camo across his combat pants flexed with motion, the black kneepads fitting snugly and offering both extra protection and comfort. His nanofibertech boots made no sound. The gauntlets at his forearms gleamed in the moonlight filtering through the wooded canopy of bare branches. The left one was a dull kaki, the vibranium crystal screen of his Strategic Mission Interface device dormant on the front while the chamber for his collapsible vibranium bow and grappling hook were barely visible. The right one was grey, housing a launcher for his various grenades and even a grappling hook. Both had sheaths on the inside where he kept his Adamantine lined hidden blades. His signature weapon.

 

Leaving the treeline behind, The Final Romanian Knight came to a stop at around five meters away from the Cabin door, flexing his fingers and cracking them one by one. There was something behind that door. Something that had been waiting for him, for anyone, for a long time.

 

That feeling made him bare his sharp, predatory canines, further filling him with determination. He would find out what it was… and, if necessary, end it with brutal precision. 

 

He'd faced Hell itself four times over. This was nothing compared to that.

 

As he took another step, the soil shifted underneath his feet. The dry grass beneath gave way to a sort of fine black dust, as if the ground had been burned. Each step left an imprint and a soft hiss was the only indication that someone had been through there. Glancing around, he noted that the treeline was leaning away from the small gleave leaned away from the centre of it where the Cabin was. It just reinforced the notion that this place wasn't exactly natural, nor was it made by someone from here. 

 

Whatever it was, there was no barrier around him, nothing to impede his approach, though, at the same time, there was a tingling sensation on the back of his left hand. Exactly where the Triforce of his Realm Alpha was. He was its Bearer, its Keeper, especially since he was the last survivor of that Realm. All else was gone from it,  Realm, Universe, Planet, his home Kingdom of Romania… All except for one other that still haunted his nightmares. That other, he had a sense that his insane hand might have meddled in these current circumstances. His Triforce was resonating, letting him know that something had warped this place and, at the same time, it shielded him from being affected by any effects of said cosmic warping.

 

If there were any magical tripwire, they did not go off, so the Cabin did not react to him drawing ever closer with inherent caution.

 

It simply sat there, unassuming and even humble in appearance. Like a refuge in the middle of the wilderness that was forgotten by the passage of time and remained silent, unchanging in the face of it. The wooden beams and planks roof sagged slightly to one side, though not from disrepair, this was deliberate and it did not seem to be just to have the rainwater cascade down easier. The wooden slats were untouched by rot or moss and he was certain that there was no sort of modern protection applied to it. This Realm was more… medieval, even with some notable technologies and magics that were available to those in the know. The windows were opaque, clouded by grime that did not allow even a flicker of moonlight to reveal what might be inside. Curiously, the wooden door was closed but there was only a knob, no lock, no chain, nothing else keeping it closed, at least at a first glance.

 

Merely a few steps away from it, The Second Hellwalker paused again, bringing up his left hand and tapping on his SMI. It quickly sprung to life and he tried to use the device to map out the place with his sonar-thermal and even electromagnetic spectrum… but all readings came back corrupted and unnaturally distorted. Like trying to get a clear reflection in a rushing river. His eyes narrowed at the closed door and he sniffed the air, trying to catalogue any sort of scents. There was a cacophony of things that he had picked up on, so much that it actually made his head ache trying to sift through all of them.

 

One thing was more than clear however. This was more of a cage than just a Cabin and the whole sense around it made the hairs on the back of his head stand on end. Brow still furrowed, he lowered his left arm slowly, the gauntlet screen dimming into nothingness. That pressure in the back of his head reared its influence again, the Contract tightening around the dregs of his soul like an unspoken command. 

 

Finish the mission. 

 

Eliminate the threat.

 

SAVE the Realms.

 

However, fortunately for him, The Slayer inside growled in protest against this corrupting influence, making his sclera momentarily flash crimson with rage. No one controlled him and he would never allow himself to be controlled. All of his actions would be his own, no matter what.

 

He gritted his teeth and drew in a deep breath, letting it out to maintain his calm, cold and calculated demeanour. However, that feeling from The Demon Worse Than Demons inside of him remained… or maybe it was from a part that was even deeper than the personification of his endless rage, hate and agony. It was something deep and primal yet he did not know from what attachment it came from. Only the feeling remained because the memory was buried so deep, it may as well have been forgotten. Though that feeling was enough to make him doubt himself. Usually The Mercenary fulfilled contracts without hesitation, especially since they involved doing actions for the greater good of all existence. Actions like slaughtering demonic arachnid emperessed, culling corrupted pantheons calling themselves divine saviours, even massacring entire planets housing abominations.

 

There was no quarter taken, nothing given.

 

This was special however. Steadily, he opened and closed his right hand, feeling the weight of his hidden blade sheath, the burden of responsibility that came with wielding the Adamantine lined blades that had once belonged to his father. They were dead, that had been the case for centuries now. It was another reason why he fought so fervently. So that another might not go through his tragedy. Still… he was weary, because he did not want to sully the blades with the blood of the innocent.

 

Finally, he resumed his steps. Almost instantly, the air around the cabin grew even thicker each time he placed another foot forward. Gravity itself seemed to become more oppressive, his boots sinking deeper against the floorboards of the small patio, his breaths came slower and much deeper, more measured though with the odd sense that he couldn't quite fill his lungs to capacity. Like wading through murky waters within the plain of existence below… within a world that had been dragged down to Hell itself and was slowly being devoured by malevolence. 

 

His gloved hand touched the old brass handle of the cabin door. Even through the nanofibertech fabric, the cold was able to permeate through. It was chilling, colder than even the absolute zero of the Herebus Mountains of Dark Plain. However, Dynamo did not hesitate, his hand firmly closing around it, twisting as the heard the inner latch give way without any resistance. The Cabin was… welcoming him, wanting him to finish the deed swiftly, with the efficiency that he was well known for across the Realms.

 

Though something else unexpected happened. He sensed something in the air that should not be. Wildflowers. Not just wildflowers but the distinct scent of the silent princess, a flower that had grown so rare in the Hyrulean Kingdom, many thought the species to be extinct. It had been so long since he had felt it but it couldn't be, there was nothing there. That was when he realised that it was a phantom scent… Either this place was playing tricks on him or there was something about it that triggered that specific memory. Unfortunately, there was a blank spot regarding who he associated ghat with. All that he remembered was that he had cared about… her. This bright, innocent child. He had been a guardian in the shadows once.

 

Until he had left it all behind to pursue his obsession… For the good of all existence. Just like always The Mercenary sacrificed all that was personal for the benefit of others. Here he was, about to do it yet again. 

 

His hand steadied on the latch as he pushed it in slowly, constantly peeking and scanning within senses just in case. When facing the unexpected one had to be prepared for it. Genuinely, he thought he was, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer thought that he was prepared for all possibilities when he stepped through the threshold. Eventually, the door gave way fully, with the groan of something ancient making room for inevitability, yet more eerie silence was what permeated through. The cabin interior was just as unassuming as it seemed from the outside. There was only one room, quite small, more of an antechamber than a full on living space. On the far side on the right, up against the wall, was a single wooden table. For a second, he thought that he saw a pristine sword on it, but blinking once had it go away. His eyes narrowed and he couldn't help the rumbling hum that resonated deep within his core, glancing around again. The walls pulsed faintly, almost alive, the wood grain shifting like veins beneath flesh almost imperceptibly to the regular human eye. It smelled not of dust or decay, but of something else… Metallic… Fear. This whole place reeked of it. Along with sorrow, one that clawed even at the mangled remnants of his mangled heart. 

 

Right in front of him was the door that led down to the basement, right where his target was. He reached his right gloved hand forward and opened it. It gave way easier than the last one, almost as if it was inviting him, drawing him further in. A wooden staircase descended down into the staircase, so dark that he could barely see. He didn't quite see how far it went, all he could really do was feel that the steps were there. One by one, he began descending. Each step was measured, precise, soundless. His nanofibertech boots made no noise against the wooden boards, not even the slightest creak yet The Mercenary felt like he was in the open even when draped in the safety of the shadows. It was odd to feel his throat and chest grow tighter… normally, he did not get nervous but not even someone with his discipline could remain neutral in the face of growing anticipation. 

 

The air grew colder, heavier and significantly more stale with every step. Not the chill of weather, it was impossible, but of something that has been locked away for far too long, forgotten seemingly. Dynamo's breath misted slightly, though there was no discomfort in that regard. No shivers or trembling. Under better circumstances, he would have enjoyed the cold, took solace in it, but not this time, not this type. His left hand trailed along the slightly damp and cold stone wall, his gaze flickering toward the sheath of his hidden blade. 

 

Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent. 

 

The weight of the Contract surged again, clawing its way through his mind and into the deepest recesses of it, pounding constantly. 

 

Finish it. 

 

Kill her. 

 

Eliminate the threat. 

 

Ever since he'd taken it on, the constant droning noise had only gotten louder. Was he taking a risk? Yes. Was it calculated? Also yes. He had a way to mitigate it, The DOOM Slayer within him. His own endless rage and hate, roared in protest against it, defying anything that sought to bend his will to itself. 

 

Suddenly, a sound echoed up the stairwell. It was a voice! Soft… Hoarse after so long… yet still human. 

 

“…Hello…?”

 

It was barely a whisper, but to Dynamo’s beastly keen ears, it landed like a thunderclap. 

 

He froze at what he estimated to be the halfway point of the ridiculously long staircase. 

 

The voice trembled at the edges, strained from disuse, but still carried the barest trace of nobility, even now. However, it was far from the commanding voice of a Princess who'd stand with Champions at her side, nor did it possess the divine authority that would shatter Calamity in a blinding surge of light. This imprisonment had reduced it to a shadow of it what could have been. Small. Broken. Yet it was still unmistakably her.

 

“…Is someone there…? Please… whoever you are…”

 

Silence. 

 

The stairs stretched beneath him endlessly, the light behind him from the opened door waning as it was swallowed by the dark below. However, he could see a second light at the bottom. Where she must have been.

 

“I’m… still alive.” The Princess called out to whoever it was, louder this time, voice cracking. “I don’t know how long it’s been… but I… please. I need help…”

 

The Second Hellwalker gritted his predatory teeth. Something hot burned behind his royal blue eyes. An anger so hot, so blazing that it again invaded his sclera. This was not right, this was not fair! This should not happen! 

 

However, he had a contract and he had a duty to fulfil it. Didn't he?

 

Weren't Colan Knights of the National Order ‘Star of Romania’ famous for that specifically? Always fulfilling their duty.

 

The choice was… which one. Because he remembered… a promise. A promise once made to a little girl with short blonde hair and wide emerald blue eyes, more than a century ago for him. She'd been one of the few to look up at him not with fear but with wonder, with curiosity. 

 

A promise made was a sworn duty.

 

“Are you…” her voice broke again, quieter now. “Are you real…?”

 

Brought back to the present, The Final Knight could feel his throat tightening. He didn't give an answer, not yet. Realising that he'd been frozen in place, he resumed his descent, eyes dead set on the bottom, where he could see the faintest glimmer of moonlight. The walls of cobblestone were damp with condensation, humming faintly with some sort of energy that prickled at his skin, even through his shirt and jacket. Some sort of heavy suppression field. This place wasn’t meant to keep her comfortable. It was built to keep her powerless. Such isolation, he hated to admit that he knew how tortuous it was. Shadows draped him like a protective veil and he drew himself into them, only his eyes glowing in the dark like the uncaged beast he was. His ears twitched as he picked up on her breathing, growing quicker the closer he got.

 

He took another step. And then another.

 

Her next words were barely audible, as if she was starting to doubt that he was there. “…Are you here to save me… or to end me?”

 

That simple question had him frozen once more. This was not normal for the demonic mutant, this was not right, none of this was. He had a Contract. He had to do it.

 

There was no choice.

 

There was always a choice.

 

Anything for the greater good.

Chapter 3

Whatever or whoever the oppressive presence was… he was still approaching, coming down those wretched stairs with what could only be described as tortuous caution. It was taking so long that it felt like just another torture. Above her head, moonlight spilled into the chamber, but it did not touch her figure, nor did the chain have enough slack to allow her to move into its rays. Her tired eyes could see the particles of dust curling in the white light, each suspended almost as if afraid to move in the presence of what was now entering. This… demonic being worse than all.

 

Zelda flinched at what she thought was a creak from the stairs, her dulled emerald blue eyes narrowing at the threshold between the moon's rays and the darkness of the staircase. She pulled the tattered remnants of her sacred gown tighter around her body, shivering at the cold she felt around her shoulders, yet still forcing herself upright. Her body screamed in protest. Every movement sent fresh fire down her malnourished limbs, but she refused to cower. She had done that enough in the early days. There was little dignity left to salvage but what remained, she held onto it just like she held onto to this last glimmer of hope.

 

Boots, combat ones, black and silent, crossed the threshold between darkness and light.

 

He stepped into view like a shadow made manifest. Tall. Intimidating. His figure was muscular yet harmonious, like a swimmer crossed with a mixed martial artists, wrapped in layers of clothes that were not of this world, but one much more modern. A sleek black jacket molded to his torso. Blue camouflage patterns streamed down his legs. His gauntlets gleamed, one dull kaki with some sort of device that looked like a very compact Sheikah Slate, the other grey one had a launcher like a canon.

 

Then, from underneath his left wrist, with practiced, mechanical ease, a blade slid free.

 

Not steel.

 

Adamantium lined with the divine metal, Adamantine. Anything that the edge touched, it would cut, without exceptions.

 

Zelda’s breath caught as she recognised the implications of that blade. There was the answer to her pleas.

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer said nothing as he slowly walked closer, menacingly. His royal blue eyes shone with unbridled fury, his bearded expression like stone, even the distinct red scar over his right eye was slightly twisted. He stared at her with a chilling look, measuring, assessing, like a predator toying with his prey. “They say you are bound to end this world… and they say I am supposed to kill you.” There was a disturbing calmness to his lowly spoken words,finally breaking the quietness.

 

“I…” Her voice cracked. The Princess tried again, refusing to be hopelessly afraid and cower before him. “Please. Who are you? Why—”

 

He raised the blade slightly as he bared his teeth, looking more like a demonic in human flesh. The Contract howled behind his royal blue eyes again, making his sclera flash red once more. 

 

End her. End her. End her.

 

And yet…

 

He didn’t strike her down. 

 

The Mercenary just… stared. She looked… human. Frail. Her aura was weak, flickering, suppressed by the prison, yes, but also wounded. Whatever fearsome divine power she might have held at some point was little more than a guttering flame now. Hardly enough to light a candle, let alone destroy worlds.

 

This couldn’t be right. There was no way. 

 

His left hand tensed as the blade remained locked in the extended position. The Second Hellwalker tilted his head to the side, still eyeing her like she was the target. This had to be it, right?! “Why do they say that?”

 

Zelda blinked, brow furrowing. “Dragon's blood.”

 

He took a step forward, slow, deliberate, taking in a deep breath through his nose. She was not lying… “Only that? It cannot be that simple.” His skepticism grew though there was an easy way to solve this. “Would you willingly end it all even if you had alternatives?”

 

The Princess drew herself upright, the chains almost pulling taut, pain and rippling through her. “That… is a subjective question.” Came her firm reply despite it all, she still had some regality in her. “People… no matter their alignment… can pose a risk to existence.”

 

His blade remained lowered, but the edge glinted with tension. That was correct and he knew that even he could pose a risk to existence. “For the mere sake of it.” He proposed with a deepening scowl. “Just to watch the world burn.” That piercing glare of his wasn't leaving her frail form. There was… something twisted behind his eyes, like two intents battling within him but little showed on the surface. 

 

Zelda shook her head with a bitter sounding laugh, hands clinging to the rough stone covered in decay. “Is that what you see?” Her question was rhetorical though she almost sounded… disappointed. “If that is what you wish…”

 

“Do not twist my words.” Dynamo interrupted, voice sharpened as his scowl somehow deepened. It was a warning but he… something in him… held him back from raising his blade against her.

 

Silence stretched between them like a chasm, the air was becoming thicker from the unspoken judgment and yet, The Mercenary did not strike her down…. His blade remained drawn, but still… unmoving. Something was wrong with the contract and something was familiar about her. He knew her.

 

The divine Adamantine edge glinted in the moonlight, unstained, pristine, waiting. The demonic mutant’s frame stood still, inwardly wrestling with himself. This was not the time to speak! This was the time to end her life! The chamber was silent, not even water from the condensation on the ceiling falling… It was as if the whole place was holding its breath for this apex of its purpose. This Basement had kept The Princess caged, locked away, suppressed in body, mind and spirit, everything in order to have her delivered to the other side by The Mercenary.

 

Zelda’s chest rose and fell, the simple act of breathing like fire in her lungs, the muscles along her ribs screaming from the sudden effort that merely breathing faster brought. Her golden hair clung to her face, matted and limp, her once-pristine sacred gown reduced to a veil of threadbare fabric. Yet, despite looking more dead than alive,  her emerald blue eyes held on to defiance. “Then… what are you waiting for?” She challenged fearlessly, voice hoarse but her intentions clear.

 

The Second Hellwalker's head tilted to the side, just slightly. Inwardly, he was… faltering. He knew her. He couldn't do this to her. He had made a promise! 

 

“If I’m the threat…” She continued, meeting his eyes with as much courage and determination as she could muster. Despite him being a whole head and shoulders taller than her, she did not buckle under the pressure of his oppressive presence. “If you were sent to kill me, then why are you hesitating?”

 

There was no reply from him at that one, leaving the question to hang in the air like his drawn blade.

 

“I can’t even lift my arms without pain.” She rasped, holding back the tears that burned her eyes. This was no time to cry, she had cried more than enough. “If you believe that I am a threat… then do as you please. I am alone.” Her voice cracked on the last word, but she steadied it with sheer will. “So strike me down, Mercenary. Fulfill your contract. Be done with it.”

 

Dynamo's blade remained at the ready, but his splayed hand shifted imperceptibly over it. Not looser but tensing further. Irritated. As though her words were feeding something within him, fueling a feeling that he had long buried. It was enough. He took another step forward, the heavy silence of his boots pressing into the stone like a verdict. His eyes never left her. They gleamed with the shine of the unchained predator he held inside. Yet beneath that, deep in his dark pupils… something was breaking. Slowly, steadily, it was unravelling in the back of his mind and the demon kept pounding at the edges of his conscience. He had to make a decision and it had to be right. There was no walking out of her and just leaving her. Not anymore. Not ever.

 

The Princess narrowed her eyes as she could see him breaking. “There’s no one left.” She knew him, something inside told her that she knew him. Yes, he put on this front, but she knew the person inside… “I haven’t seen another soul in what feels like decades…”

 

His gaze grew even more intense to the point that it even had her flinch, but only slightly. The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer advanced another step, the left blade still at his side, waiting for its wielder's decision. In his over five centuries long life, he had seen many things, things that most people would not even dream of… or, in his case, face in their nightmares. From Dark Lord ruling over Galactic Empires in the face of even greater horrors, to angelic beings posing themselves as the saviours of humans, only to turn around and sacrifice their worlds for their own prosperity. Demonic, divine, eldritch, it did not matter, what mattered was the intent behind their actions. That was what dictated whether he'd kill or spare them. They all had reasons, motives for it, as insane as they were. 

 

However, when he looked at her, at the… Damsel in front of him, he didn't see someone who would undo it all for the sake of it. There was no malevolence in her. So how could he strike her down?

 

Because the Contract said so.

 

“I have heard enough.” Was all that he said regarding her words as he had come to a decision. It was dead set in his mind and nothing was going to change that. Already, The Mercenary had wasted more than enough time.

 

Hearing those words, Zelda tried to rise further, her legs nearly buckling. Her hands gripped the stone wall behind her. She stood, not proudly, not easily, but deliberately. “They told you I’ll destroy everything…” She stated, her voice shaking, chains crinkling as they were pulled taut, holding her in place for the coming execution. “But all I wanted was to save what little I could… My kingdom. My people. My parents…” Her eyes burned with tears she refused to ever shed again. There had been more than enough crying. “I couldn't save any of them… because they kept me here…”

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer's expression did not change in the slightest… but inside, it was a maelstrom. Deliberately, he stepped forward until she had no possible escape, his right hand reaching forward and grabbing her chained one. However, he did not plunge the blade into her immediately… Only a breath separated his blade from her throat as his eyes studied her expression for any sign of deceit, every exhaustion-carved line, every glimmer of defiance in her tear-slick eyes, anything that would make him doubt.

 

The Princess’ emerald blue gaze was so intense that it could have burned a hole through this entire place were she not at death's door. “Why did you hesitate, Mercenary? You walked in here with the blade drawn. What did you see that made your hand falter?” Even with the threat millimetres away from her, she remained defiant. If this was the fate that the Goddesses had ordained for her, then she'd meet it with her head held high until the very final moment. “You have failed your trial…” She stated cryptically, the hand that was unchained grabbing his left wrist. “Try again.”

 

“Me… or you?” It was a simple retort but one that showed she had only cemented the course of action that he had in mind. Any lingering speck of red rage had cleared from his sclera as his royal blue eyes glared down at her. 

 

Unfortunately for her, she did not have the power to do anything. As tightly as she tried to clasp his wrist, she could see that he barely acknowledged it. “You were tested the moment you walked in, so you failed, Mercenary." The Princess let go and looked up at him expectantly, trying to get him to reconsider his path despite a dark part of her telling her it was futile. “Do you even know who sent you here?”

 

“No.” His voice had somehow become even colder, even less human. Something unholy had taken him over and she seemed poised to be its victim. “Now… hold still… Princess.” Steadily, deliberately, it began to rise, the Adamantine-lined blade gleaming in the moonlight streaking through the bars of her prison, soon to be her tomb. 

 

Zelda could feel its sharpness in her bones, as though the edge itself hummed with anticipation, hungry for purpose. She had pushed him too far. She saw it now. This change in him wasn’t rage. It was resolve. Cold, complete, and terrifying. His posture straightened. His stance shifted subtly—feet planted, shoulders squared. Any uncertainty vanished from his expression, replaced with the stillness of someone who had made their choice and was not going to back down from it, ever. There was no speck of mercy in him. “Why are you doing this…!?” Her voice cracked as her heart pounded even faster, throat tightening as her breaths became shallow. “Why kill someone you don't know…!?” The Princess took an involuntary step back, pressing against the stone wall, breath trembling as there was no escape and he still held her chained wrist in his grip. “No…” she whispered, so quietly even she barely heard it.

 

The Mercenary raised the blade. It moved with an elegance she had not expected. Not brutal, not crude. His movements were refined to perfection, as if the blade was merely an extension of himself, fluid as if moving like he was water. There was no pause, no hesitation and no remorse.

 

Zelda’s breath caught in her throat. Her legs threatened to give out. She gritted her teeth. She would not beg. If this was the end the Goddesses ordained, then so be it. However tears welled in the corners of her eyes from the cruel irony and sheer absurdity of it all. She had finally spoken to someone, someone that she wholeheartedly believed she knew, and now he would silence her forever.

 

The blade fell… 

 

CLANG

 

The sound rang out like a cathedral's bell, tolling sharp and final for it all.

Chapter 4

She flinched, expecting pain, death... Instead, The Princess heard a metallic snap quickly followed by another. Then the cold clatter of shattered chains falling to the stone floor. Her eyes opened wide to see the aftermath of his actions.

 

Dynamo had moved with terrifying precision, each cut cleaner than the last, yet both nigh perfect. The chain at her right wrist split down the middle like paper. His grip on her freed and with the chains removed, she staggered back down as the weight of imprisonment crashed upon her and then vanished in an instant. There was no need for her to stand tall in the face of death… dare she have… hope? She stared up at him, mouth parted in stunned disbelief.

 

He stepped back, the sheath on his left gauntlet hissing as the blade retracted back into it final click. His whole demeanour had shifted, or perhaps it was the same yet she saw it in a new light.

 

Zelda’s voice trembled as her brow furrowed, holding herself up with trembling hands. “W-Why…?” Her voice was even weaker than before. Standing up and going through all of this had taken its toll on her already frail form.

 

“I told you already, Princess.” The Mercenary gazed at her briefly while quickly scanning their surroundings with his SMI, just in case any one else was coming to the Basement. His expression was still calm, cold and calculated, focused beyond belief and his eyes… there was no conflict there. “I have made my decision.”

 

“Then… who sent you?” For a moment, she considered crawling closer to him, however undignified that might be… but she didn’t. The broken chains remained motionless around her. At an instant, it seemed like it might lunge to wrap itself around her again and hold her in place… but it did not. Whatever magic was suppressing her powers was starting to falter as if buckling under the pressure of having The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer in its proximity. Zelda pressed a hand to her chest. The faintest pulse of golden warmth fluttered beneath her skin. Her power was still there… Distant, buried, but no longer entirely gone, no longer choked out.

 

Moving with what could only be described as military efficiency, The Second Hellwalker walked briskly to the edge of the staircase. “We’re not safe here.” He muttered with a slight grit of his teeth. Though he did not spell it out, his intent was clear to her.

 

“You’re… freeing me.” A small smile crept at the edges of a cracked lips as that flicker of hope became a flame. It was true, she really was saved. She knew him… He had passed the test as she thought that he would.

 

His beastly senses scanned the chamber once more, stretching outwards as far as he could focus. There was nothing, absolutely nothing. On top of that, nothing was distorted this time, it was simply empty. No heartbeats. No footsteps. No watchers. Nothing. All clear. He gave the smallest nod to himself, hiding his relief since he knew that this was just the beginning of what had turned into a rescue operation. Then he turned back towards her, making his way over.

 

The Princess was barely upright, using the wall to keep herself from collapsing again. Her breath was shallow, her body a web of pain and trembling fatigue. Freed from her chains, but the toll of her confinement wasn't cast aside as easily. In an instant, she felt when he had turned and she looked up, their eyes meeting again. There was a moment of silence… one where she expected a firm command. Some sort of cold instruction. A demand to move.

 

“Can you walk?” Instead, it was a question, one that was… amiable and even… had the edges of concern laced with what must have been an inherent firmness of his tone.

 

Zelda bit her lower lip as she was not sure… but she tried. She truly tried. One step, she wavered yet remained upright, all of the muscles along her leg, back and abdomen screaming in sheer agony. By the second one, her knee buckled and gave way, her hands scrambling to grab at the empty air as her vision swam and the cold floor was coming rapidly. 

 

However, before gravity could claim her, Dynamo had already caught her. There was no hesitation, on the certainty of his actions, that what he was doing was the right thing.

 

With fluid ease, he shifted his posture and swept her into his arms in a bridal carry. While not the most efficient way of carrying someone, it felt most appropriate in this circumstance. As he straightened back with her in his arms, he was holding her with a steadiness she had forgotten existed because of her long imprisonment. His strength was immense, but not oppressive. It was quite the opposite, he held her as though she were both sacred and fragile, caring and gentle even despite his rough exterior. 

 

The folds of her tattered sacred gown rustled against his nanofibertech Splinter Cell outfit as he adjusted his grip, one arm beneath her legs, the other cradling her around her shoulders, offering just enough support. His gloved fingers were precise in pressure, careful not to press against bruised skin or torn muscle. Even before, his grip on her had not left any sort of marks.

 

All had happened in a matter of seconds and she was left gasping, not in pain at any roughness but in surprise at the gentleness. Without missing a beat, he began walking. At first slightly reluctant, Zelda’s head eventually leaned slightly against his left shoulder. The leather of his jacket was cold, but beneath it, she could feel that there was warmth. Her pointed ears picked up on it, a steady, slow and powerful rhythm. A pulse. It brought a small smile to her lips, a soft joy emanating from her. “You didn’t have to carry me…” She murmured, sounding quite embarrassed. “I could’ve tried again…”

 

“Yes, I do.” Dynamo replied quite firmly yet not unkindly, leaving no room for argument. “You're in no condition to.” There was a pause before adding. “You would have fallen again.” Though the way he said it indicated that he would not have allowed it to happen. For all intents and purposes, he was already showing a very protective side of him.

 

The Princess looked up at him, right into his royal blue eyes even though they were not on her, but steadily looking ahead and up. His face was set like basalt, guarded and calculating. Just like… something inside of her told her she knew that was always the case with him. “I knew that someone would come and save me…” She remarked quietly, her soft smile remaining on her cracked lips. “As embarrassing as that is.”

 

Though that was not how The Mercenary saw it. “Everyone needs a rescue at some point or another.” And he was no exception, having needed to be bailed out before. Just because he was incredibly capable did not mean he was infallible.

 

 

Soon enough, the long ascent from the Basement began, his boots making little to no noise against the wooden boards. With each step, a little bit more of the oppressive pressure of the prison began to lift from her shoulders. The air grew slightly less stifling even though the whole ordeal was not over. They had to be fully out of this place. Still, Zelda inhaled sharply, as if finally being able to breathe after drowning in the deepest, murkiest waters. Her half-lidded eyes looked up at her would-be saviour again. He carried her as though the burden was nothing, because, to him, it was nothing. Better said, it was natural, it felt like what should be done. Somewhere, in the farthest recess of her memory… something flickered. That familiar feeling she felt towards him, it was becoming more prevalent. She rested her head more fully against his shoulder, exhaustion overtaking her.

 

All the way, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer kept his eyes on the light at the top, not stopping his ascent. He had to be swift yet at the same time, he wanted to be careful not to jolt her badly. Once in a few steps, the staircase would groan with age beneath his admittedly dust cascading from the ceiling bathed in so much shadow that one could not truly discern what it was. The moonlight from the opened door at the top cascaded downwards, dancing over The Princess’ face in rays of pale pearl white as she lay cradled in his arms. 

 

The Second Hellwalker’s eyes remained forward, but his grip on her tightened almost imperceptibly. The muscles along his neck contracted for a moment but he kept the rumbling hum within his chest from resonating outwards. Something was unsettling him the more he thought on it, whether he wanted it or not, his mind was heading there. Not the darkness, but the mission he had taken on and his relation to her specifically. Each step he took through the claustrophobic stairway echoed louder than the last, but only in his mind, in the memories that he had buried.

 

Deep inside, he could see… a hallway, Hyrule Castle. He was walking carefully, avoiding the sunlight streaming through the large windows out of his habit to remain in the shadows. Then… there was laughter coming from behind him. He saw a girl hiding behind one of the columns, peeking out, her short blonde hair swaying wildly as he hid herself again. He'd walked over to her hiding place and uncovered her easily and she had looked up at him with bright emerald blue eyes. With no small amount of wonder, this girl that was no more than nine or ten, reached out for his gloved hand, marvelling at the way the material felt. He was unlike anything or anyone she had seen… and, more than that, he had been present for a vast majority of Hyrule's history. Of course, with her age came the avalanche of questions that only a child could pose.

 

Even back then, he hadn't smiled. He was softer with her, kind and caring within reason, like a big brother. He'd answered her, indulged every question, followed her when she dragged him into the library with the Historia in hand. She called him her knight in the shadows. For a child, she never looked at him with fear and she could always look right into his eyes. A feat that only a few others had accomplished, the number able to be counted on the fingers of a hand.

 

Back in the present, a sharp exhale left his nose, unable to hold back the slight grunt from the back of his throat. It was a deliberate effort, but he did not slow down.

 

However, she sensed it and she stirred against him. “You're tense…” Came her small and fatigued voice, her eyes fluttering up to him. “What's wrong…?”

 

He didn’t answer with words, only humming in negative. There was no need for her to be concerned with him. She was the focus now and he could take care of himself. On top of that… he was unsure how to exactly reply to the realisation steadily dawning upon him the more time he spent in her presence.

 

Zelda’s eyes blinked open again, frowning slightly that he was not saying what it was. She was too exhausted to argue it… though she was not going to let him hide. Though she was still so weak she could barely lift her arms, the warmth of his body and the rhythmic fall of his steps had quieted her panic. Nestled against him now, she hadn’t felt such warmth since the time before her imprisonment. It combated the cold around them and kept the dread from creeping back, shrouding her into a protective veil. “I’ve… seen you before.” Came her whisper, so low, she barely heard herself. 

 

However, The Final Knight heard them all to clearly, the shock making him stop mid-step for a second. His eyes flickered to her in silent question… as well as realising that she must have been remembering him as well. It had been decades… yet she still knew him.

 

The Princess continued, her brow furrowing faintly. “Not in a dream. No, it was real.” She emphasised, straining to have her voice slightly louder. “I was little… I think I was… in the library…” A small smile tugged at her lips. “Yes… You were there. I remember your eyes... I—” Her breath caught again and she almost laughed. “I called you… my Shadow Knight.”

 

His legs moved on their own, more than halfway up the long staircase from the Basement, slowly, those same royal blue eyes looked at her, meeting her glimmering, tired emerald blue eyes. Something terrible snapped in him, the rage and hate of The DOOM Slayer surging. However, his restraint and control remained. None of it was directed at her, never ever would he ever direct such feelings at her. He did not even know her name, he did not remember it but it did not matter. He was furious at the contract, at whatever sick force had sent him here with murderous intent and lies poisoning his intent. Even more was directed at himself… because he had buried the memories so deep, he may as well have abandoned her, left her to her fate. There was no forgiving himself, but, maybe, this was how he could at least begin to atone for such a sin. “They said you of all people were going to end all things.” His silence finally broke, his tone lowered and cold, tinged with the edges of the anger he kept inside. This was no time to blow a casket. 

 

Her eyes filled with sorrow yet, at the same time, understanding. “Then they must have feared what they couldn’t control.” Slowly, bits and pieces were coming back but it would still take some time for her addled mind to put it back together. First things first, she had to start actually recovering from this ordeal. “Still… you are my hero.”

 

Not for a single moment had The Mercenary stopped his ascent, however, his steps were harder, faster, not caring about being discreet anymore. One after another, the boards splintered beneath his heavy boots. Safe to say, he was angry, very angry that he'd almost killed her. Angry that he'd forgotten her. The kindness with which she was treating him only served to further exacerbate the way he felt towards this whole circumstance and towards himself as well. “I am a contract killer… Nothing about me is heroic.” He corrected almost instantly, grunting slightly though his tone wasn't chilled, just resigned. “Never was and never will I be a hero.”

 

That… did not make any sense and she got the feeling that the both of them knew he was lying to himself intentionally. “Saving someone's life… is not heroic?” She challenged despite the exhaustion, staunchly believing that what he was doing now was an objectively good deed, not matter the perspective. 

 

“It is.” He did concede on that front though there was a caveat. “However, one good deed doesn't automatically mean someone is a Hero or even objectively good. Everyone can have their moments.” It was quite the cynical view he had and it did stem from the fact that he just could not accept he was a good person. He was merely someone who got the job done, nothing more, nothing less. He could be evil so that others may not suffer and only feel the good. “The same applies to everyone.”

 

The Princess seemed almost amused while tilting her head, staring up at his golem like expression with wide emerald blue eyes…. Her gaze seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. ”You might be giving yourself a little less credit than you should…” She remarked quietly yet with that same unspoken knowledge that should have been beyond her. “You weren’t any different… Weight of the Realms on your broad shoulders.” Came her low murmur as she shifted gently in his arms, turning slightly more towards his body. Though she did want to, she didn’t press him further. At least for now.

 

Those words pierced deeper than they should have, as did her gaze. The Second Hellwalker got the sense that she was looking into him, seeing that demon in him and yet she was still drawing close to him. The stairway narrowed near the top, whatever seals had been placed on her and this place slowly corroding away as he was taking her out. The air was colder but cleaner, fresher. They were nearing the surface. As the first real threads of moonlight filtered through the windows, Dynamo adjusted his grip on her, not out of need, but as if reaffirming the decision he'd made in the dark. If anyone dared to even think about bringing her more harm, they would face the wrath of a being who had razed Hell.

 

They reached the summit of the stairwell, passing through the first door without any issues. There it was, right in front of them. The final threshold. The Cabin's exit loomed before them, an unassuming door of thick timber and blackened hinges, the same one that had seemed to invite The Final Knight inside in order to slay The Princess, still partly opened. Under better circumstances, it might have looked quaint, even welcoming but… there was something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It reeked of deception of imprisonment in a way that only someone who had been through that very matter could sense.

 

Dynamo’s boots slowed to a halt as he glanced around cautiously. Nothing had changed but one could not be too careful, especially with the precious life he cradled in his strong arms. The light leaked through the windows on each side. 

 

Rays of moonlight, true moonlight finally bathing her. Zelda stirred weakly against him, her fingers clenching faintly at his jacket as her eyes turned to see the half-open door. Freedom. “…So close…” She murmured, barely a whisper.

 

The Mercenary hummed with a nod as he walked closer and raised his right hand toward the latch… 

 

When suddenly the door slammed shut.

 

No gust of wind. No mechanical trigger.

 

It chose to close.

 

After all, this Cabin was a prison. Her prison. And if the person meant to end her did not fulfil the terms, then the Cabin was going to keep the both of them there to rot until the end of time. They could keep each other company, misery did love it. As long as The Princess was alive, the Cabin was not going to let him out. There was only one choice here if he wanted to ever exit.

 

Fulfil the contract. 

 

Slay the Princess.

 

Only half a second, that was the duration for which The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer had been frozen in place. Then his lips curled in a slow, feral snarl worthy of an uncaged beast. His heartbeat quickened to around one hundred and twenty beats per minute, just right for him to use his raw power. That fury, endless and righteous, roared beneath the surface of his skin. The DOOM Slayer within would not stand for this, making his sclera flash crimson with a purple outline. Enough power for an onslaught of rage against the Cabin. Without a second thought and borderline bloodlust, he turned his right shoulder to the door, despite it all, gently shielding Zelda closer to his chest. “Hold on!” He growled as his eyes were deadset to rip and tear until she was out.

 

“What are you—?” She did not even get to finish her question nor did he answer. There was no time to as he charged at the exit with unbridled hatred.

 

The first impact shook the door in its frame, wood groaning and the whole structure shuddering to its very core. For now, it held on but they were no match for what struck them. Dynamo's skeleton was laced with the divine metal, Adamantine, on top of just how massive he was at around three hundred kilograms. That coupled with his sheer explosive strength made him capable of obliterating entire hellish siege engines. His shoulder met the door like a thunderclap. The Princess flinched, though not from fear or due to being jolted harshly, but from awe. He knew how to absorb the impact and mitigate the momentum so that she was not harmed.

 

Seeing that his target was still blocking their path, he stepped back, royal blue eyes flaring with that same mix of crimson and purple… Then slammed into it again. And again. And again!

 

With each hit, more of the wood was shattered despite however stubbornly its enchantments made it hold on. The door’s frame cracked and the beams snapped one after another. The entire wall and Cabin trembled under the force of his will. Then, with one final roar that echoed through the interior and rippled beyond it like an angry god’s wrath, he drove his weight into it with such force that it rippled the door from its hinges along with an entire section of the Cabin wall. The whole side of the structure exploded outwards and moonlight flooded in.

 

Fresh, sharp air rushed into the dark passage like a breath after drowning. The Mercenary stepped into it, broken wood splintering under his boots as he walked onto the small patio. He had emerged like the Hellwalker that he was, a few splinters clinging to his right shoulder, pure royal blue eyes glowing menacingly yet The Princess was held safely in his firm arms.

 

The groove greeted them in a hushed silence. Blades of small yellowed grass swayed at his feet while the sky above was remarkably clear. The moon was high in the sky, at its midnight peak, and plenty of stars dotted the navy canvas around it. Behind them, the Cabin laid askew, its purpose defeated, its facade shattered by the unbreakable will of one demonic mutant. 

 

Feeling the sudden shift in his arms, Zelda blinked rapidly as the light truly touched her skin for the first time in what felt like eternity. She squinted and tears picked at the corner of her eyes, instinctively burying her face against Dynamo’s shoulder, too overwhelmed to speak.

 

“You’re free.” Was all that he said, finally turning his gaze to her. 

 

A slight breeze caught her hair, lifting it from her face. Her body trembled slightly, not from fear nor from cold, but from the sheer relief. She clutched his coat with what strength she had left.

 

One objective was done but the mission was not over. The Final Knight scanned the treeline for any signs of a threat, anything that was out of the ordinary. All was just as quiet as when he had arrived. Silently, he knew that his actions would not go unnoticed. Whoever had locked her away wouldn’t take this lightly… but he was looking forward to facing them… and making them learn the definition of agony.

 

 

Chapter 5

From the small groove, the treeline was passed down the forgotten path and the forest swallowed their silhouettes. The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer moved with nothing but determination in his long step, yet each was carefully set in order to not jostle The Princess’ frail form. Above them, the canopy of empty branches from the husks of what might have once been stoic pines steadily became more verdant. The further away they were moving from the Cabin, the more life there was around them. Sounds began echoing, crickets, owls and other critters that came out in the dark. A slight breeze swayed through, cool, comfortable even, while the moonlight filtered through the spaces between the leaves, bathing them in a pearly, almost ethereal light.

 

Once every few steps, he'd turn his head to the side, listening, scanning over his shoulder in anticipation of something, anything that would come after them. Fortunately, no unholy beasts stirred. No watchers followed. That was a slight relief for him though it did not mean that he wasn't tensed, coiled and ready to strike against the first potential threat. His keen ears twitched every few seconds, keeping him aware of everything within the radius around them, every shifting leaf and distant rustle, yet all of it stemmed from his focus on her.

 

The Contract, the whispers in the back of his mind, they had dulled to the point that he thought they had disappeared. Yes, there were still… voices in his head, the usual demons that plagued him along with The Demon Worse Than Demons roaring against them, keeping them quiet yet filling him with strife. It was the price he paid for the way he lived, though he would not change it. However… even that was quieter… At least compared to before, almost like being near The Princess allowed him to think better, her mere presence soothing to him.

 

After some distance, they came upon a small glade, where the moss grew thick enough to soften even the heaviest of steps and the air was filled with a cautious symphony of the night. Moonlit and dry, it was rimmed with blue nightshades that offered a soothing light along with cool saffinas. A fallen log, partially moss-covered, offered a potential place to rest. 

 

It had to do for now, until The Mercenary got his bearings better. He knelt slowly, fluidly. “Here.” He broke the silence, voice low but steady. Gently, he shifted Zelda from his arms and laid her down on the softened moss with a tenderness that didn’t fit the look of him. 

 

Her eyes fluttered open as she let out a long breath, then nodded in gratitude, her expression faintly dazed. Whether from hunger, exhaustion, or disbelief, even she wasn’t sure, though it was likely a combination of all of them

 

Dynamo said nothing more but moved with absolute precision. Taking off his brown backpack, he opened up one of the pouches in order to retrieve a small nutritional bar, similar to the ones used by performance athletes and much better than the synthetic bricks other militaries gave out as field rations. Still wrapped, he placed two of them on the side before also retrieving a flask of crystalline spring water, a favourite of his. Then, he crouched beside her, handing her the canteen first. “Small sips… Don't overstress your body so soon.” He instructed firmly yet benevolently as she reached for it with trembling hands.

 

With a small nod of understanding, she obeyed. The first swallow, even though it was miniscule, was almost painful as the coolness rushing into her parched throat made her gasp softly. However, it became soothing, even inviting by the second small sip. The Princess closed her eyes briefly, clutching the container like a relic as she leaned back against the soft moss of the log. “I forgot what clean water tasted like…” She whispered with the slightest hint of amused embarrassment, though that only served to hide how horrific of a statement her words were.

 

The Second Hellwalker said nothing despite being appalled by what he had heard, only breaking the seal on the food. For just how long she had been down there without anything? How did she even survive? There was no way that only Dragon's blood had been what kept her alive… Maybe the place also did. Though… if that cursed Cabin was also keeping her alive, that meant now, with the effects going away, there was the potential threat of her body shutting down from the effects of her ordeal. Wishing to prevent that outcome, he handed her half the portioned bar in small pieces, watching to make sure she didn’t eat too fast. Even in his younger days, when he was a lone soldier of fortune wandering from battlefield to battlefield trying to find his purpose, he’d seen starvation victims tear themselves apart on the kindness of field medics and good soldiers before. On top of that, he knew the risks of refeeding syndrome.

 

However she was measured with each bite and oddly graceful even now. It was as if it came natural to Zelda. As she ate steadily, savoring every small bite, her eyes started to regain their shine… and they kept finding him.

 

He sat beside her on the edge of the log, knees apart and feet planted firmly, one forearm resting across his thigh, while his other was lifted closer to his face, royal blue eyes scanning the vibranium crystal screen of his SMI. 

 

Though his bearded  face was unreadable, she could feel the focus coming off him like the heat from Death Mountain itself, silent, smoldering, yet ever vigilant. She realized he hadn’t taken even a bite of his own portion of the bar, thinking that he had split it with her. After gulping down the last small bite, The Lady Princess lowered her hands to her lap. “You’re not eating…?” Her voice was soft while posing the question but it had more vitality to it.

 

The Second Hellwalker perked up at the question, but did not fully look at her when replying. “I’m not the one who was chained to stone in that God-forsaken place for too long.” Despite trying his best, his anger at that fact seeped through. However, his motions remained gentle as he handed her the other half of the small bar.

 

Graciously, she accepted it, still smiling at him. “But still… you saved me.” It was a simple statement but it conveyed the depths of the gratitude that she felt towards him.

 

His royal blue eyes remained on her for a moment longer before averting them, huffing with a grimace. “I didn’t save you for gratitude.” He… couldn't bring himself to accept the positive side of it, not seeing it as something that grand or special, only taking it at face value.

 

“I know, Georgian.” She used his actual given name, not even his family name, glancing at him with knowledge beyond that he might have assumed she'd know. “You did it because it was right.” Her smile, still small, was quite luminous before she took yet another bite of the bar. 

 

That made him pause for several reasons, jaw clenching. Not because she was wrong but because she was right. That… that unnerved him. While taking on the Contract had been a calculated risk in his opinion, he realised just how much he had gambled… and almost lost. Though that was not what was at the forefront. “How do you… know my name?” He questioned since he never gave out that name… unless someone was like family or a sibling-in-arms to him. There was no way he was ever that close to her in the past, he knew for sure that he would have kept himself at arms length in that regard, insisting to be called ‘Dynamo’. So what was this…?

 

Zelda leaned forward slightly with a smile that was almost cryptic… mysterious. A few rays from the moon lit her features now, wan but regaining shape, her cheeks no longer completely hollow, her eyes luminous in the night. Even with dirt on her skin and bruises across her collar, she looked regal. Radiant in defiance of what had been done to her. Keeping her enigmatic silence for now, she tapped the side of her head with her index finger, then. “That shield in your head cannot hide much from me…” Despite the words potentially being nefarious in another circumstance… they were well-meaning coming from her. “You realise this, surely.”

 

His intense gaze remained on her as The Watchdog's mind was putting it together quite quickly. Not just that but he was putting together why he knew her... or was familiar. "That shield is Adamantine... which means that you not only have dragon's blood... but the Blood of a Goddess... and you did not trigger the demon either..." Safe to say, it left him… thinking… but also wary. “I would still recommend you keep away, for your own sake.”

 

The Princess' lips parted but she didn’t question that. She didn’t ask what drove him, what darkness burned behind those royal blue eyes that had seen too much. Still feeling defiant in the face of the unspoken challenge that he did not even realise that she just proposed, she instead reached out slowly and rested her hand over his, the one clenched in a fist against his thigh.

 

His head turned turned almost instantly and their eyes met again. His own flickered between her hand and her countenance… not understanding why she was doing it. 

 

However, The Lady knew. She hadn’t realized it before, but now, seeing him in the light, knowing he had carried her from death without hesitation, Zelda felt her chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with hunger or pain. She admired him, the man that she knew he was inside.

 

“If you know my name, Princess…” He started slowly and with an almost involuntary edge to his tone. There was a blank spot in his memories, almost ready to resurface yet he could not bring it out. “May I know yours?”

 

A gentle smile began to grow on her slightly cracked lips. “Zelda…” Her expression became quite… radiant while looking up at him.

 

He nodded briskly and the words came from him all too naturally. “Princess Zelda… understood.” There it was, that spot had been filled, like a puzzle piece long lost had been finally set back in its rightful place. Yes, it sounded right and his mind was starting to put the big picture back together. It was still in fragments but he knew for sure now that he was on the right path for the greater good of all.

 

“No ‘Princess’...” She corrected quickly yet kindly, the small smile on her face showing her teeth, somehow still pearly white. “Just ‘Zelda’.” 

 

That had him go silent for a moment, as if he did not quite understand her request. It was… appropriate to refer to her by her royal title, he wanted to show her the deserved respect. However… if that was her wish. “Very well… Zelda…” That did not sound quite right to a part of him, the part that did not want to get too attached. Attachments always ended in misery. Though that certainly did not mean he would not aid her until the very end. What he did not realise was that his gestures flew in the face of his thoughts, because, as they sat quietly together, his eyes looked down at her hand joined in his… and he did not move it away. In his interpretation, he was merely offering her the comfort she needed, which was correct… though that was not all. Because, just as the cool night breeze moved around them and the blades of moonlight danced around the groove to partly illuminate the laid, there was… something unspoken passing between the both of them. 

 

In a short while afterwards, the brief meal was over. The Princess had eaten little, only as much as her stomach could bear after long deprivation, but already a faint color had returned to her cheeks. Her breath was steadier now, her limbs less slack and, even though she was far from fully recovered, she no longer looked like a ghost of herself. She looked more alive. Without a word though knowing that they had to get going soon in order to find her proper shelter, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer shifted and knelt beside her in the moss. As she wiped the corner of her mouth with a piece of cloth, letting out a sigh, he gave her just a moment more, being patient despite the inherent urgency of the situation. When he was certain that she was all set, he gently reached around her shoulders and beneath her legs, lifting her back into a bridal carry.

 

She didn’t protest, not for a moment. As a matter of fact, she melted into him much easier now, nestling into the crook of his neck as if it were the most natural place to be. There was no stiffness, no hesitation, just an instinctive trust. It unnerved him quite a lot, if only because he felt it settle into him too which made a fear he had thought buried worm its way back out. Namely the fear of losing her. Yet, at the same time, he felt… calmer, the constant screaming and roars in the back of his head quieter, The DOOM Slayer within was more composed… Like an anchor he hadn’t acknowledged that he needed.

 

“You don’t have to carry me the whole way.” She murmured with a somewhat embarrassed smile, her voice still carrying the edges of a deeply seeded fatigue.

 

“You can’t walk.” He replied simply, his brow furrowing being the only indication he gave on his stone faced expression.

 

She smiled faintly. “I could… get us out of here…” Her eyes fluttered open and up to him as she offered, already beginning to draw upon the dregs of her powers. “Use instant transmission.”

 

“No.” Instantly, he shot down that idea and refused the offer, though not unkindly, but because he was worried that exerting herself in any way might quite literally prove deadly, draconian side or not. Everyone had limits and he would not dare her risk herself needlessly. “Conserve your energy.” He urged, his tone still firm before it softened while still carrying her down the unmarked path, his voice becoming less cold ever so slightly at his next words. “It is alright.” Then his royal blue gaze went to her with an important inquiry. “Do you remember any place where it would be safe for you to recover?”

 

She thought for a moment, resting her head back against the left side of his chest. “Hateno Village.” Her voice came, steadier this time, significantly so. “I… I have a house there. It’s isolated, quiet. My Sheikah Slate might still be inside.”

 

Dynamo nodded briskly before glancing around and sniffing. “Hateno…” He echoed in a murmur as his head remained turned and his eyes narrowed, scanning the terrain ahead. “Southeast of here… Mountain ridge to cross… River… promenade…” He mused to himself as he calculated mentally before arriving at the conclusion. “Just under twenty kilometres from here.”

 

Zelda blinked as she looked up at him, her curiosity sparkling in her tired emerald blue eyes. “You knew that offhand?”

 

“Sort of.” The Mercenary shrugged slightly before turning and starting to walk in what was essentially a beeline for the secluded settlement. “I have the whole map of Hyrule in my head, not just in the SMI. I just need to correlate that with what my senses tell me.” It was a brief explanation of how he did it, especially when he did not have the ability to use it properly or had the signal scrambled. There was still some interference, which told him they were still too close to the Cabin. “After that, I approximate. It is quite simple, honestly. Nothing too fancy.”

 

Hearing all that had her pause again. Then, with a small, sheepish voice, she spoke from against his shoulder. “...I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” Her smile was much the same though she considered it to be, in fact, quite impressive and even complicated. Just went to show how… humble he was.

 

“I suppose not.” He replied dryly before realising what he had said. There was no correcting this now and he let out a sigh when hearing Zelda chuckle. Still… humour helped… he knew it did. His eyes briefly went up at the canopy, calculating the quickest route in his mind and how long it would take him to get there. The forests of Hyrule were dense, but not impassable. The chasms, vast but not uncrossable either. Almost any obstacle in his path, he could already see in his mind's eye an alternate route. His footing set, he began to walk at the pace of a march, almost as if the drums of war were beating constantly in the back of his mind. Steadily. His gait lengthened further and his steps grew smoother, more rhythmic, precise. Trees flashed past him in green-brown streaks as he accelerated, his combat boots barely making a sound against root and loam. Despite carrying her, there was a fluidity to his movements, an unnatural grace despite his size and the weight of his gear. He ran like one of the greatest performance athletes yet with a speed far exceeding them.

 

The Princess held on to his jacket as she felt it, her eyes wide as she did not expect such… urgency, her breath catching somewhere between awe and disbelief. The wind rushed past her pointed ears as leaves spiraled in their wake, moonlight strobing through the canopy, painting the both of them in fleeting fragments of pure, pearly white. You said… twenty kilometres…!” She remarked breathlessly, finding her voice only for a brief time as it trembled from the sheer speed of their passage.

 

“Seventeen point four.” He informed briskly, letting out a focused exhale, his breath perfectly controlled despite the speed. “We’ll be there within the hour, approximately.” If it was flat plains, they would have arrived even faster but the terrain was very uneven and strewn with obstacles. 

 

Zelda gazed up at him and just stared, taking in everything she saw on his bearded expression. There was no strain showing. No effort in his movements. Only intent. Only resolve. Somewhere… deep in those royal blue eyes of his, there was one more thing that she had not seen before, something different from that endless rage of his, a certain shine of sorts. He was enjoying this, the running, the physical effort, he was relishing in it.

 

Her heart fluttered but definitely not out of fear, rather out of the strange realization that was slowly dawning upin her. This was no longer just a knight and his charge, there was no way that they could just go back to that, at least from the way that she felt towards him. This felt… deeper, more intimate in a sense. She rested her head once more against his chest and closed her eyes, trusting him entirely.

 

All the while, The Second Hellwalker ran like the winds and the thoughts. Through the verdant streams of Hyrule’s ancient woods, through the cold yet comforting midnight, through the unseen threads of fate pulling them together again after centuries apart, he ran. Carrying not just The Princess but an old promise, a duty that he could now fulfil.

 

Chapter 6

The moon had barely descended by the time they reached the outskirts of Hateno, coming in hot from the direction of the Nirvata Plateau. The Mercenary moved like a shadow incarnate, his form weaving through the greens as the stars bled through the canopy. He did not immediately begin descending, spotting briefly to observe the land from a distance with his keen eyes and senses. The village below glimmered sleepily, with a few windows lit with warm golden light and plumes of hearth smoke curling lazily into the sky. No soul was outside, no guards, no enemies at a first glance. It was quiet, peaceful, the perfect refuge. A place untouched by the wars of the land thanks to its more secluded position, though he knew that he had to catch himself up regarding all that had happened during his absence. Despite the promising appearance, that did not mean the demonic mutant could allow himself to relax. He scanned everything from afar, standing downwind. Footpaths, doorways, every flicker of movement that made his ears twitch.

 

At the distance they were at, they were safe from being potentially spotted but The Final Knight knew that they had to go in soon, especially since he could bear to keep The Princess out in the elements for much longer.

 

For now, all was clear, so he began his approach, quickly cutting through the open area in order to have the Ginner and Midla Woods serve as cover. There was no one at the entrance of Hateno, which told him that the villagers felt safe where they were. Hopefully they had remained just as welcoming as well. Almost as if she had sensed that they had almost arrived, Zelda stirred faintly from where she was cradled in his arms while he was still observing from behind the treeline. She could see the ridge where her house was along with the wooden bridge that connected it to the rest of the village. It appeared untouched since it had been offered as a gift from her brother-in-arms. She did not get to enjoy it long… the imprisonment coming all too soon after that.

 

“…My house.” She whispered, almost in disbelief. “Still standing… they didn't-”

 

Dynamo nodded once but said nothing. There was no need to. Though he did have a thought as he looked towards her. “Before heading in… we should get you cleaned up.” He suggested with a slightly wry edge but he had only good intentions at this point.

 

She drew her shoulders up in embarrassment at that, a slight flush rushing to her admittedly dirty cheeks. “I must look like a disaster…”

 

“You are alive.” He found himself retorting quickly, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly before he gently adjusted it. “That is the most important part.” Then he added in a slightly softer tone. “The rest… we can handle it.”

 

Firly pond was right there close to where they were already, just up the ridge. It was a very easy climb for him, steady even when carrying her in his arms. The moonlight reflected off the calm waters akin to shimmering crystals, reflecting each and every star that dotted the sky above them like a sacred mirror. The shadowed boughs of the forest parted as he stepped off the slightly rocky edge and into the small quiet glade. There, nestled between the tall cliffs connected by the wooden bridge was the unassuming Firly Pond. It was small but the clear waters were perfect to purify all the desecration from the Cabin. The breeze had stilled, rushing above their heads now which was good, especially since a cold was the last thing she needed. Making little to no noise at all, The Mercenary paused on the grassy edge, looking down at The Damsel Princess in his arms. It was the first time that he actually looked at her in the light.

 

Zelda lay still, her head nestled against his chest, long blonde hair tousled and streaked with dust and sweat that had accumulated over decades. Her time in that cursed cabin, those long, endless years of confinement, clung to her skin with the greatest stubbornness imaginable. She’d not complained, not once, but Dynamo knew. He could see it in her pale complexion, the haunted cast in her eyes that she hadn’t yet let show. It would be wrong to bring her into her own home as she was… tainted by what she had endured.

 

Carefully, reverently, he knelt by the lake’s edge and shifted her in his arms, placing her on the soft grass and using his own backpack as a cushion against the stone. Then, he removed his black jacket, leaving it at the ready for her to wrap herself with it. 

 

While he was making all the preparations, The Princess stirred again and blinked slowly, especially since she'd felt herself being removed from her protector's arms. “This is… Firly pond?” The moonlight caught the curve of her cheek and the soft rise of her throat when she posed that question, her voice barely above a whisper, yet beautiful, even innocent. 

 

“Yes.” He confirmed as he had linen wrap set aside for her as well. “Whenever you are ready… we can clean it all here.” He assured before he stood and turned his back to her, folding his arms. “It's safe… Just us.” 

 

Steadily, with that confirmation, she removed her outer layer of clothes, the sacred gown having been reduced to nothing but scraps at this point. She was about to call out that she was ready but he was already turning. Much to her pleasant surprise, he did not give any indication of being… lustful, despite her being in nothing but her undergarments and even those were barely clinging on to cover her decency. Still, she noted how he was respectful when she reached out her hands towards him.

 

With her silent assent, he knelt and lifted her into a bridal carry yet again. There was a very simple reason why he wasn't perturbed in the slightest by seeing her like this. At his core, he was still a swimmer, that meant he had seen plenty of people in speedos or even bikinis, so there would be no nosebleeds from him at the sight of some skin. Frankly, he was much more worried about how… thin she was. Walking slowly into the shallows until the water lapped around his knees, he then gently lowered her in, cradling her all the while. To him, the cold embrace of the water was comforting even though the folds of his greaves and boots, but he saw her stifle a gasp though The Princess did not resist. “Tell me if it is too cold.” His voice was slightly gentler than before, as if he recognised the vulnerability of this circumstance and did not want to even appear to take any advantage of her.

 

“It’s fine.” She murmured, her voice barely audible but smiling slightly despite the gaunt look on her otherwise gorgeous countenance. In fact, she relaxed a moment later under the pressure of the water. 

 

The crystalline surface shimmered around her like liquid moonlight. The Mercenary remained at her side, only his skin-tight white undershirt on him but still wearing his gloves and gauntlets out of habit and the desire to be prepared for anything… unexpected. With slow and almost practiced movements, his steady hands began to wash the grime from her arms, her legs, her tangled hair, the tear streaks from her cheeks, the patches of dried blood from her skin, the smudges of ash from her jawline. Always with care and always with respect, his royal blue eyes never daring to linger in any untoward way. He did not look upon her with hunger or even pity, only reverence. After all, she was divine in her own way and she had survived some of the worst desecration that even someone who'd been to Hell itself several times could have possibly imagined. 

 

When he reached her hands, she held them out to him wordlessly. Nodding slightly in thanks, he took them, cradling them in his massive palms as if they were made of glass, steadily wiping each slender finger, each bruised knuckle.

 

For the longest time, Zelda just stared at him, speechless at the various feelings that were passing through her. When his gloved hands touched her face, she couldn't help but close hers, taking in every caress. Then, her wide emerald blue eyes looked to his hands holding hers with a gentleness that stood in stark contrast to the kind of man he presented himself as. “You say that you are the Demon Worse Than Demons…” Her voice trembled when it came, yet there was a certain resolve coming from deep inside.

 

“Yes.” His reply was quick to come, gaze briefly meeting hers but his motions did not stop, working to clean the grime in-between the fingers on her left hand. 

 

“You lead armies across Realms… and are merciless…” She continued, a small knowing smile tugging at her lips as she kept her eyes on him.

 

His brow furrowed and there was a moment where he paused. “Yes.” Though his tone was just as brisk, he wondered where she was going with her train of thought. It did not have any relevance in his opinion. 

 

“And yet… this…” She leaned slightly closer and looked at him, the edges of her eyes shimmering with soft joy. “You touch me like I might break…” It was not a complaint on her part, quite the opposite. She would eternally be grateful for the kindness that he was showing, regardless of his hardened expression.

 

His hands paused as he let out a long breath through his nose. “Because whoever did this to you already tried to…” Then he resumed, slower than before until he moved on to her right hand. “And I do not want to be the one to break you.”

 

At those words and what she could sense underneath the layers of imposed cold calmness, The Damsel Princess was… overcome, biting her lip as tears welled in her eyes. Not from pain, not even from sorrow. A significant amount of that had been washed away, in every sense of the word. However, the tenderness and the understanding that he showed… was truly unique. She had spent so long in darkness, surrounded by cruelty, that she’d forgotten what it meant to be seen without being dissected, touched without being owned. Even though the water still felt cold, there was a rush of warmth coursing through her from the depths of her very soul. Her vision blurred and, before she could stop herself, she reached up with her newly cleaned hand towards his bearded cheek, cupping it tenderly.

 

That admittedly simple gesture made him freeze in place for the longest time, still holding her other hand. His eyes went to her, the two shades of blue meeting as the silence between them thickened with the weight of so many words left unspoken. 

 

“... Thank you, Georgian.” It was Zelda who broke the silence, smiling gently and genuinely up at him.

 

The hardened expression of The Mercenary did not soften in the slightest, only his gaze did. He said nothing, not trusting his own voice as he finished rinsing the last of the soot on her hand and combed the strands of her golden hair back behind her pointed ears with his fingers. Slowly and steadily, he withdrew his hand but only to place it over hers. It curled around it and he withdrew it. “We should get you out now.” He suggested in a lower tone, his arms already moving to pick her up in a bridal carry. 

 

With a hum, she nodded, reaching out to him in return. He helped her out of the water, dripping from the both of them in small rivulets as he stepped onto the shore and back where his backpack, jacket and the cloth was. Placing her down, she wrapped herself in the linen and he draped the nanofibertech jacket over her shoulders before lifting her again. Dynamo held her close as they walked together toward her home at the edge of Hateno Village. The lights of the village were warm as he passed through the main gate discreetly before instantly making a right turn. Right there, just beyond the wooden bridge over Firly Pond was the home that she had been gifted two decades ago. He moved swiftly in his march, crossing the bridge in silence, though the boards creaked ever so slightly under his massive weight. Still it held without any signs of giving out… which was quite the feat.

 

Once across, he slowed down slightly and tuned his senses, feeling out the world around them. The front door was right up ahead and there was an old wooden sign on the side that had been completely scratched out, the words completely illegible now. It didn't quite catch his attention, being more careful to sense if someone was already inside. Nothing. No threats, no unwanted visitors, it was safe, almost as if fate had ordained it that it would await her overdue return.

 

In the dead of night and with a few hours to go until morning, The Princess had finally made it back home. A cold hush had settled over Hateno, the only sounds being the whisper of breeze through tall grass and the occasional hoot of a distant owl. The quaint village slept, seemingly without a worry and removed from the strife of the rest of the kingdom, the lights of the lamps doused one by one, windows darkened and chimneys long cooled. 

 

While they slept, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer was wide awake. He held Zelda close, her small frame still delicate in his strong arms, cradled with the same care he might show to a sacred artifact or wounded sibling-in-arms… if not something even deeper, more familial, or so he told himself. His boots barely made a sound on the stone path as he approached the rear door of the small home. With a gentle nudge of his shoulder, the door creaked open on unoiled hinges, revealing the quiet interior.

 

Dust had claimed the corners and the air was tinged with the scent of wood, parchment, and disuse but it was dry and intact. The home of someone once noble and studious. It hadn’t been lived in for a long time, yet it was untouched by rot or time’s cruelty. Truly, a blessing. He stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click behind him. The lanterns were cold but the silence was.., peaceful. Carefully, he walked forward and set her down steadily onto one of the two carved chairs at the old wooden table in the middle of the relatively large main chamber. The worn grooves of its surface spoke of years past, meals shared, maps unrolled, journals penned in long hours of solitude. 

 

The Lady Princess let out a breath as she settled, the seat cool beneath her, but the presence of her old home wrapped around her like a blanket whose comfort she had all but forgotten up until now. “I… I feel hungry again.” She mentioned after a pause, voice timid but honest.

 

Dynamo was already in the process of cleaning the table before setting his backpack onto it, nodding as if he’d anticipated the words. “That’s good.” He remarked matter-of-factly as he ruffled through the various compartments. “It means your body is starting to recover and wake itself up.” He pulled out a strange looking bag, at least strange to her. The Mercenary was quite accustomed to meals ready to eat. While it was certainly not a royal meal, it had all the calories, nutrients and vitamins that she needed. Not to mention that he could easily find more. With swift, practiced motions, he opened it up and had the esbit stove activated. The flame lit up gently, producing plenty of warmth but no smoke. He placed one of the three meal packs on top, allowing it to begin heating. There were images on it, chicken breast with stewed vegetables. Not Hyrulean but just as delicious. On the side, there were also biscuits, small yet tasty, so he set aside a pack for her. Though, before moving further, he had a question for her. “Would you… like to have some tea? It can help both hydrate and relax. ”

 

Zelda had already moved to grab the biscuits, the pack opening easily for her so she soon began to nibble gently at one. “Yes, please.” All the while, she remained as gracious as ever as well as warm towards him. Quite the contrast compared to their meeting just a mere hour or so earlier.

 

He paused thoughtfully and furrowed his brow, searching through and finding a packet. Removing the main meal so that it would cool down a bit, he had the water from one of his canteens heated up quickly then poured it into a cup, placing it before her. “I hope that it is to your liking…” His tone was calm, cold and calculating like always, but there was an undertone that he genuinely cared for it to be that way. “MREs can be somewhat limited with their offerings.”

 

Even with that preface, something inside told The Lady Princess that she would enjoy it. Slowly, she brought the cup up to her, sniffing for good measure then taking a tentative sip. Indeed, it was as she wished. “Chamomile…!” There was a wider smile on her fatigued expression, the widest thus far to the point that something… curious could be seen. Fangs.

 

Not that The Second Hellwalker gave any indication of being surprised since she had already told him she had Dragon's blood. On top of the fact that he had predatory canines of his own. “You are particularly fond of that one?” He inquired with idle curiosity as he opened up the steaming and deliciously smelling main meal, bringing it over to her alongside a pair of cutlery. “I merely picked it on a whim…” Came his mutterings in his beard, more towards himself. 

 

“It reminds me of… someone special.” Zelda was guarded with her words as she held the cup in both hands and close to her chest. Her emerald blue eyes went down to it, involuntary hiding the sorrow that was welling up in them.

 

“I see…” Those buried memories within The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer stirred once more, some kind of instinct telling him that he already knew who it was. Someone that The Princess had held very dear, towards whom she had looked up… and the only person towards which he had such a great respect as to kneel before them. “May I know whom?”

 

There was almost a devious smile on her as she looked up at him. “You will know when we understand each other better.” Despite the nature of her words… there was no ill intent or malice behind them.

 

No matter what the Contract might have stipulated regarding her. Even good people could be evil? Right?! She still had to die! No! To Hell and back with it!

 

“Very well.” Dynamo nodded in understanding as that was the only confirmation he needed, burying the other thoughts as he went to clean and bag the extra food for later use. 

 

Picking gently at her food, Zelda watched him, unable to help herself from pausing and propping her elbow gently on the table. “You’re… surprisingly gentle for someone who carries himself in such a terrifying way.” She remarked cheekily, a trace of amusement behind her fatigue.

 

“It is merely how I am.” He replied as he kept his gaze averted from her, opting to clean around the chamber to keep himself busy. Most importantly, to keep his mind occupied. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

 

“Still…” She murmured, smiling faintly and taking another sip while keeping her gaze on him. “You carry yourself like a blue-eyed beast… yet here you are.” A small giggle escaped her. “Making me tea.”

 

To that, he said nothing, merely turning around to look at her with a much more important question in his mind. “Is the food to your liking?”

 

She nodded gratefully, her mouth already half full as she ate bits and pieces of the chicken. After so long without any sort of real food, she would have frankly eaten almost anything. It was beyond delicious. Savory and warm, even though the taste was completely unfamiliar. It had her give an incline of her head in complete approval. However… she wasn't done with her attempts to get under The Second Hellwalker's walls. “I never imagined my saviour would be a man feared across the Realms…” The Damsel Princess said with a tone both teasing and genuine. “A demonic mutant, no less. Called worse than the ones from the Dark World…”

 

“It is what I am… and what I will always be.” Notably, he did not rebuke any of that nor did he open up with the tease. He knew what she was trying to do and he was… guarded in that regard. That initial meeting still weighed heavily on him. How could The Final Knight, of all people, have been so close to killing The Princess, let alone harming her!? 

 

Zelda looked at him with soft, searching eyes as she took another bite. She chewed slowly and let the utensils down for a moment, lowering her hands onto her lap, still wrapped in the linen cloth and his jacket. “You could have struck me down in that cellar…” She whispered with a bittersweet smile, watching him as he moved to lean against the far wall. “Everything told you to…” There was a pause as her emerald blue eyes reflected knowledge that perhaps she should have not had. “And yet you didn’t… You set me free.”

 

To that, The Second Hellwalker didn't day anything, merely folding his arms and furrowing his brow. Like a sentinel of the night, he stood guard so that she may eat and enjoy the tea in peace. He remained close overall, but a lingering apprehension in him made him keep his distance unless absolutely necessary. The time he spent around her, the more that sense of recognition grew. Discordant chords tuning themselves once more, ringing within the recesses of his mind and angering him with the notion that he had willingly let it happen.

 

Perhaps in contrast to his guardian golem demeanour and the cold front that he kept putting him, The Damsel Princess felt herself tethering more to him, with every sip of tea and every mouthful of nourishment. After all, he was the… man, yes, a man, not a demon; who had sliced open her chains, who had carried her through the woods like something sacred, who now stood quietly but present, a silent guardian. The tea warmed her body and brought back memories of childhood… But it was his presence in the now that warmed her soul.

 

When she finally finished, she set the empty cup aside, her brighter emerald blue eyes lingering on him. He had not moved from his spot, giving her space. He did not smile, his focus on other matters. However, she could see it clearly, there was something gentle in the line of his shoulders, in the way his gaze flicked to her every few moments, measuring her comfort more than any threat.

 

It made her smile, knowingly again yet… with a hint of tenderness as well. “Thank you, Georgian.” She spoke at last, her voice sincere and with even more vitality than before.

 

A nuance that made The Mercenary's ears twitch as his royal blue eyes met hers… without looking away. There was no fear in her. “You’re welcome, Pri-” He caught himself quickly. “-Zelda...” Habit… The habit was coming back. Seeing that she had finished, he rose from his spot in order to clear out the table fully and wrap the leftovers.

 

The Lady Princess remained seated, her posture eased but upright, the tea's warmth still gently coursing through her. Across from her, Dynamo leaned over the table, silently cleaning up and packing back the remnants of the MRE pack with deliberate, methodical motions. Each movement was controlled, his hands steady, efficient, practiced, but his quietness had lost its peaceful feeling. There was a heaviness coming from him, a dense feeling in the air around him, a burden on his shoulders as his mind was fixated on what had almost happened.

 

Zelda watched him closely, her eyes narrowing slightly with concern. She saw the growing tension in his jaw, how his shoulders had tightened when coming closer to her. He moved like a demon trying to burn anger from his limbs by task alone, like violence might spill from him if he stopped. While his face was neutral, hardened into that cold mask of demonic fury fueled resolve, she could feel the turmoil beneath it. "You are angry…" Came her quieter tone, not an accusation, but a truth spoken aloud and with… empathy.  When he did not answer that, nor even spare a glance, she continued, her voice gentler. "You’re angry… and you’re ashamed." The reason was obvious but saying it aloud would cement it. “Because you almost killed me.”

 

His hands paused, fingers tightening on the torn packet. “I do not enjoy being given false targets.” Like an open book, she had read him despite all of his walls. Indeed, he was livid, anger burning within him significantly brighter than the esbit stove. However, none of that rage ever spilled towards her.

 

Zelda let the silence stretch for a few moments, leaning slightly closer to him with her hands together on her lap before asking. “Are you sure you have no idea who gave you that order?” it was a tentative question as she could tell it was a touchy subject with him. Still, it was an answer that they both desired and he was in a much better position to at least have a list of possible suspects. 

 

There was a moment where his mind wandered in an odd place when looking at her… Her demeanour was… adorable.  

 

No, focus, Soldier, focus. 

 

Indeed,  focus. The Contract stipulated that she was supposed to die. Even good people were dangerous. 

 

No, just... don't focus on admiring her. Focus on the mission. Focus on the promise, on the sworn duty

 

Who would employ The Mercenary for this? 

 

He made sure that the esbit stove was out before leaning on his hands slightly over the table, forcing his eyes away from her. "It was anonymously sent to us.” Rhythmically and without really thinking it, he began tapping the fingers of his left hand against the wood. “The pay was beyond anything... and the mission was simple. Too simple, like they knew I'd accept it and banked on me being diligent like usual.” That notion made him grit his teeth as the gears of his mind churned over. “That sets up a profile of our culprit... They know me and they knew you were there at the very least." Still, the list was very long… with one person at the top, his nemesis, The Butcher of Realms. 

 

The Lady Princess had her eyes on him as he spoke, strangely calculating as she listened. ”I have to be honest…. I have no idea who put me down there.” She averted her eyes as she did not quite remember that either. “But since there was a Dungeon in the Cabin’s Basement, we know it’s magical at least.” There was a slight hopeful smile on her lips, always looking at him even if he didn't look at her.

 

Though his gaze did return at her oftentimes, especially when he felt the demonic rage begin to rise inside of him. Just her simple presence calmed him like nothing else, allowed him to concentrate and hushed the voices in his head. To put it more bluntly… he did… admire respect her. “It inhibited your power... else you could have teleported yourself out.” Simple and brutal, they both had seen it and the mere thought that it was meant to bring her the maximum amount of suffering made his hands clench into fists against the table. “I will find them…” Vengeful beyond just sheer unbreakable determination, he swore it to himself as a sharp exhale left his nostrils.

 

 What was there anything to admire in the first place…? For all intents and purposes The Lady Princess still looked… ghastly, one foot already in the grave. She  furrowed her brow at the anger that was coming from him though her compassion remained. “You’re taking this more personally than you should…” While she did appreciate his devotion, she did not want him to be consumed by it.

 

After all that she had been through, she still had concern for him. That was another thing he admired respected… the resilience that she was presently showing. The Mercenary gave a slow nod with his gaze still on her."I know…” His voice did not waver from his conviction. “But the bastard made it personal when he tried to trick me into killing you." That was the crux of his rage and that was why he vowed to make them pay, to make all of them pay for what they had done. No quarter given nor taken. No mercy.

 

Her smile wavered a little at this… bloodlust, unsure of how exactly to respond lest he just flied off the handle. ”Please… we barely know each other really.” That statement was… a tad odd, as if she was almost testing him and his reasons. Maybe this was also helping her remember better… or helping him reassert who he was to her and perhaps even more now that she was well into adulthood. “I am happy that you helped but is there such a need to be so passionate, is there?”

 

That question made something click inside his head. The Watchdog side in Dynamo was both loyal and devoted, letting instinct guide him. An instinct that, even in this circumstance, had been proven correct. His brow furrowed and he wavered in his attempt to not look right at her, his gaze inadvertently drawn to those… hauntingly beautiful emerald blue orbs of hers. "Barely?” His skepticism showed but his tone was quite… kind, less cold but just as even. “You know quite a few things about me, Princess Zelda…” This time, he failed to catch himself and he did not even realise how naturally it had come from him as he spoke in a measured way, the implications of his words quite clear. “Including the name that I only give out to those I see as family." 

 

She nodded, her expression serious even with the smile there. Her next words might have sounded odd.... almost nefarious if they were coming from someone else.  You don't intend on killing me, do you?” That question dropped like an armos to the bottom of Lake Hylia, her next words very measured. “Otherwise there will be.... problems..."

 

There was a low, rumbling hum coming from The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer at that one.  He turned his form fully towards where she was sitting, a hand still resting on the table. "I am not the kind to go back on my word, Princess Zelda.” There was a clear emphasis to his words though he did not take her question badly. In a sense… he figured that she was trying to test the waters in him… So she would be met in kind, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “You should know that, shouldn't you?" 

 

The Lady Princess only nodded at first… confirming that very fact. She let it slide that he was addressing her by her title again… at least for now. Her eyes were piercing, though benevolent and she even seemed to be pleased with the way that he was responding. "Then you only have one other clear option..."

 

"... Fifth Freedom." Perhaps his reply was odd... but he was still a Knight despite not having a Kingdom to call home anymore. All that discipline was still stuck to him and this circumstance was bringing it out. As such, what he did felt right… It was the right choice. He could have done anything but this was what he wanted to do. So, Dynamo bowed his head, bringing a fist over his heart as he took a knee in front of the Princess. There were only two other people in all of existence that had earned his respect to such an extent that he pledged himself to them, King Mihai I of Romania and King Novik of Argent D'Nur.

 

Zelda smiled, her demeanour more regal as she bowed her head to him, the very air around them seemingly changing, becoming lighter. "Then I am your liege... Forever."

 

Slowly, he rose back to his feet with a brisk nod, feeling certain of his choice. "Eternal. Understood, Princess Zelda." More puzzle pieces had clicked in his head, reassuring him that he was on the right track.

 

"Zelda..." This time she did not let it slide, correcting him with an amused look in her eyes.

 

The Mercenary blinked a few times and was quite… embarrassed, rubbing the back of his as he tried to glance away. “I apologise… the habit is coming back and it is hard to deny it.” He grimaced at himself, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks for a moment before swiftly regaining his firmer composure. Inwardly, he was glad that his beard would have hidden that mishap

 

However, she could still see it lingering in him despite it all. Underneath the grief and fury, there was a growing fear that he might never forgive himself. Her gaze didn’t falter while looking deeply into him, smiling with nothing but warmth. With the tenderness of someone who’d known deep loss and now saw the ember of something precious returning to light, Zelda leaned forward just slightly, resting her forearms on the table, chin tilted with something close to a teasing grin. “So… before we drown in too many emotions, perhaps it’s time for me to get out of these charming prison rags.”

 

That pulled the faintest twitch of a smirk from him as he found himself unwittingly softening once more before her. “Of course.” The Final Knight gave an incline of his head, brushing aside the packed remnants of the MRE. Plenty left for tomorrow. “I was going to suggest the same.” His voice was lower now, even less cold but even.

 

The Princess extended her arms toward him, delicate, still thin from her ordeal, but steady. “Then you’ll have to help me, Sir Knight…!” There was mischief in her tone, but the vulnerability remained. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of affection and amusement, and beneath it all, a deep trust taking root as she added with a slightly embarrassed giggle. “I still don’t quite have the strength.”

 

Adorable. That was the first thought that crossed his mind when looking at her, hesitating for just a moment before obliging. He stepped forward at the side of the table, his massive frame moving with surprising silence. He reached for her with that same cautious gentleness she had come to cherish. Steadily, his arms slipped beneath her legs and shoulders once more, lifting her easily from the chair before he turned towards the stairs leading to the upper part of the house where the bed was.

 

Zelda let her head rest against his shoulder, her voice a soft murmur by his ear. “You’re still the same man I remembered.” There was a faint smile lingering on her lips as she closed her eyes to settle in more comfortably. 

 

For several reasons, his guard rose within. Not just his guard but his denial. For one, he was no man, he had not been a man for centuries. Hell made sure to change him from a beast into a demon worse than all. For two, while she seemed to remember more and more of him, it was not the same for the demonic mutant. Perhaps a dark part of him still did not want to remember because of some misguided effort to save himself the pain. Still, despite that, he held her closer than before in his silence. Firmer as though afraid she might vanish if he loosened his grip. The floorboards creaked softly beneath Dynamo’s combat boots as he ascended the wooden staircase, each step measured and slow, as though the very air around them had grown sacred.

In his arms, The Damsel Princess rested in silence, one hand gently clutching the folds of his shirt near his chest. Her head was nestled near the crook of his neck, her warm breath grazing the exposed line of his collar. She was lighter than what he knew to be healthy, far too light regardless of how strong he was, but no longer fragile like crystal. Something in her posture had changed since the meal and he felt it in the way she held him now. It was not just for support anymore, but with a subtle firmness, as much as her atrophied muscles would allow but the inherent intent behind it was clear.

 

At the top of the stairs, the cozy bedroom space was sprawled to the side. It was simple yet had a cozy feeling to it. The bed was tucked neatly into the far wall near the corner, its modest frame pushed against it beneath a wide window, its panes smudged slightly from time. Moonlight spilled through, silvering the sheets and bathing the room in a serene, otherworldly glow. Dust motes floated like little fairies in the air and the silence was broken only by the distant call of crickets outside.

 

Without a single sound, all muffled by the material of his outfit, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer moved across the space. On the nearby dresser lay a stack of folded clothes, a modest light blue, almost white tunic, soft undergarments, a warm cream coloured blouse. Clean. Her own. Next to them was a framed picture… though it was so worn that one could not distinguish what or who it was anymore. He set her down gently on the edge of the bed, careful to keep one arm behind her back for support as she adjusted her posture.

 

“You’ll need something more comfortable than this…” He said quietly, his voice almost gruff in contrast to his gloved hands, which were still impossibly tender as they removed his jacket from her shoulders and the cloth as well, setting that aside.

 

“I know.” Zelda murmured, her small smile almost permanent on her lips even with her exhaustion, her emerald blue eyes fixed on his royal blue ones as she leaned slightly into him. “Will you help me?”

 

He met her gaze, one eyebrow raised slightly in what was slight confusion, but said nothing. He didn’t turn away either, thinking that it was more than obvious that he would. Then it struck him that she was playing with him again, being all adorable. A light exhale left his nostrils as he moved to gather her garments and bring them over, feeling her gaze on him the whole time. He handed them to her carefully and turned his back, giving her privacy without retreating entirely. No matter what anyone might have said or thought, it was quite easy not to look and be respectful about it. Quickly and smoothly, he threw his black jacket back on, having felt oddly naked without it. The silence lingered as she changed, slowly, awkwardly, with effort but eventually, she cleared her throat in a deliberate way. 

 

“Finished.” Her tone was sweeter as she called out to the massive golem right in front of her.

 

He turned and saw her seated at the edge of the bed again, clad in the soft light blue tunic that fit somewhat snugly around her still-slender frame, with the blouse resting around her shoulders. The harsh lines of suffering had softened, if only slightly. She looked… at peace but her eyes were not calm. They were intense and they were utterly fixated on him, close to burning a hole right through.

 

Not thinking much of it, his duty being the only thing on his mind, The Mercenary moved toward her, hands ready to help her settle back into the sheets. Her hands reached out for him again, arms lifting, but this time, there was a wholly different intent behind her gesture. He reached down… when suddenly, her fingers closed around the front of his jacket, right at the collar and, before he could react, she pulled him toward her.

 

The kiss landed like a spark setting dry kindling ablaze. It wasn’t tentative, it was fierce and borderline demanding. Her lips pressed against his with desperation, with passion, with the pent-up agony of someone who had been alone far too long and who now, finally, felt safe.

 

His eyes went wide, every muscle in his body going rigid in surprise. He had faced gods and monsters, torn through war machines and shattered dimensions, but this moment… left him stunned, completely frozen in place.

 

She clung to him, trembling slightly, her hands clenching tighter at the collar of his jacket, holding on as if she feared he might leave again. The offered kiss deepened and her soft breath mingled with his. Her lips were warm, pleading, filled with a silent cry that he hear her, see her, feel her for who she really was. Not just some royal that he was forced to look after or solely his charge to take care of, but as a woman who had known the shadow of despair and found her hope again with him.

 

Something inside him snapped. Not in rage… but in surrender.

 

His arms moved, hands reaching not to push her away, but to embrace her, to hold her.

 

After what felt like an eternity, he began returning the kiss. Slowly, at first, uncertain of his own being but then the dam burst. His hand rose to her back, the other to the nape of her neck, pulling her to him with the gentleness of a soldier afraid of breaking something holy. His body moved closer, leaning in as though pulled by gravity itself, the kiss turning from surprise to confirmation. He was always careful, always gentle, not taking a single risk of harming her throughout the kindling of their passions for one another. She gasped into him, her fingers easing slightly for a moment, then curling again in quiet insistence.

 

Time didn’t stop, it simply ceased to matter as it ticked by in what felt like both too long and not long enough. 

 

When they finally parted, their foreheads rested together, breath mingling as he supported himself over her, not domineering, but protective. Neither spoke at first, just quietly enjoying the closeness between one another. The silence that followed was not empty but full of unspoken feelings and wants, with the residual tremble of lips and hands from The Princess as she still had her eyes closed, with the rapid thrum of both of their hearts as they had only just begun to recognize one another on a deeper level again. Even as the heat of the kiss slowly faded from the air, the feeling it left behind remained etched between them like a blossoming bond. For now, fragile yet intimate and forever irrevocable.

 

The Mercenary was completely still out of lingering uncertainty as well as reverence. He had pulled away just enough to ease Zelda back against the pillows. His touch was slow, patient. His eyes, those deep, royal blue eyes, watched her with a quiet intensity that rarely made its way to the surface. When he finally did speak, his voice was hushed and slightly breathless still, as though torn from something deep within. “…Zelda?”

 

Her eyes opened slowly and looked up at him looming over her. “I didn’t want to wait.” She whispered with a note of embarrassment. “I couldn’t... I don’t know what’s coming, or who might try to tear you away again. Remember what this feels like.” She leaned up as much as she could, quickly kissing his lips again for a brief moment. “That's for saving my life.”

 

There were a myriad of thoughts invading his mind, but that second kiss silenced all of them. Only the eternal rage and… devotion remained. “I would always save you… As I always have… and always will.” There was the flash of a memory. Him, in his demonic form, yet protecting the young little Princess. It went away before he could fully process it and he lifted himself from the bed back to fully standing beside it. For a fleeting moment, there was a small smile on his bearded expression when making a promise. “Now… rest well… I'll be right here.” Taking a knee next to the bed, he adjusted the blanket over her legs with the same care he would have given to someone who was family… if not more. It was… unusual for him to be so tender, his gloved hand lingering on the mattress. 

 

With a smile, she laid beneath the woven quilt now, her breath slower, steadier. The weight of exhaustion pulled at her eyelids and though her body still bore the lingering ache of starvation and imprisonment, her bright and defiant spirit was beginning to shine through the cracks again. Such strength in her… like a shining beacon of hope, a lighthouse cutting through the murkiness of a storming sea. It was… admirable, very admirable. 

 

The Princess shifted slightly, her thin, spindly hand reaching out to rest atop his. “You’re not sleeping?” She murmured with a concerned look despite sleep taking her rapidly. 

 

“No.” He shook his head, gently removing his hand from hers. “I don’t.”

 

Her gaze studied him for a moment, intensifying as her brow furrowed a little. “Why not?”

 

The Final Knight turned his head slightly, as though to focus on the window. Moonlight spilled in silver strands over the floorboards, casting his darkened, imposing silhouette in faint, jagged lines. “Meditation allows me to better calm that which I hold inside… The DOOM Slayer.” While that was true, there was another reason that he kept fully to himself. Every single time he slept, his nightmares would be so vivid that he feared not waking up… or, even worse, succumbing to the uncontrollable state of Maddened Savagery. The cries of fallen comrades calling out to their Supreme Commander, the faces of those he couldn’t save because he wasn't strong or fast enough, the blood on his hands that not even the purest waters could have ever washed clean. For that reason, he had to essentially force himself to rest, no thoughts, no sounds, nothing but a complete stillness.

 

Zelda opened her mouth to say something, even protest… but then closed it, understanding blooming in her eyes like a silent princess flower. However, a thought was seeded. When they would both be more comfortable and she was stronger, she'd convince him. She would be the bedrock to him as he was for her.

 

“I'll be here when you wake.” He reiterated his promise as he reached out one last time and brushed a lock of blonde hair from her forehead, his gloved fingers barely grazing her skin. Then, in one smooth motion, he stood, his nanofibertech combat boots hardly making a sound as he walked to the foot of the bed. There, he lowered himself to the ground, kneeling with his hands on his knees, facing where the stairwell was. Then, he drew in a deep breath, quietly letting it out through his lips for the longest time, feeling each of his muscles contract and relax with the motions. His back straightened further and he closed his eyes with his chin tilted slightly downwards. Around him, the shadows danced softly across the walls, curling into the corners like half-forgotten memories.

 

Steadily, he began to chant in his mind in order to focus and calm him. Tei Slaven ben kar en tuk… Kar en tuk Hust en Vitar… Kar en tuk du tei exunt…(The Slayer will rip and tear… Rip and tear Hell and Heaven… Rip and tear until the death.) Over and over, he chanted and he began to lose himself to it. Meditation. Stillness in place of sleep. It was the only rest he allowed himself, the only type that could allow him to recover from the mental and physical tiredness that inevitably accumulated. Indeed, his overall endurance was beyond impressive due to his swimmer side as well, yet everything and everyone had limits. 

 

Behind him, the bed shifted lightly. He didn’t turn but his ears twitched and he was brought back more to the present. 

 

“I never said ‘Thank you’ properly.” Came Zelda’s voice, half-muffled by sleep but still sweet. “For saving me.”

 

“No, you did.” Dynamo replied without looking, reassuring her with a less firm tone despite insisting. “You don’t have to say it again.” 

 

“I know.” A pause, her tone having hints of teasing him but the gratitude was undeniable. “But I want to.” Another pause, then came words unexpected to the demonic mutant. “Thank you… Cebi.”

 

His name in her voice was a balm to his addled mind… yet that nickname had his eyes snap open. ‘Cebi’. It was the nickname she'd come up with when she was little and struggled to pronounce his middle name ‘Decebal’. Georgian closed his eyes, letting the warmth of that simple word settle into the cracks in his hardened Mercenary side. “You're welcome… Zelda.” It was all he needed to hear. All the confirmation that he did the right thing. Fifth Freedom. 

 

The room quieted once more. Within minutes, her breath had deepened into the rhythm of slumber, gentle and steady, there was no distress on the lines upon The Princess’ face. 

 

He kneeled there in the stillness, a silent guardian as his senses reached outward and inward at once. Every slow heartbeat was a pulse of the unchained predator and its reverberation was the calmness of the swimmer which tamed it. As the stars wheeled silently across the sky beyond the window to their side, Georgian Decebal Dynamo remained in vigil, sleepless, unshaken, and for the first time in centuries, no longer feeling alone.

 

Chapter 7

The first golden orange rays of dawn crept slowly through the freshly cleaned windows of the Hateno house, painting faint lines of warmth along the wooden floorboards and casting a gentle luminescence across the upper area of the one large room that made up the interior. A slight breeze stirred the curtains, lifting them in slow, undulating sways. The world outside was still hushed. Morning birds had yet to burst into song, the village wrapped in the soft hush that came just before life began to stir.

 

Zelda stirred first from her surprisingly deep sleep. Her eyelashes fluttered and her breath caught slightly as she roused herself. For a moment, she didn’t move as it was far too comfortable. The bed was warm, her body wrapped in the heartwarming weight of the blanket, her mind suspended somewhere in-between rest and waking. Her body still ached in the dull, hollow way that reminded her of how far she still had to go until being fully recovered but it was no longer unbearable. It was pain dulled by a growing inner peace and reassurance that she was not alone in this. She blinked slowly, eyes scanning the softly lit bedroom upper area and… finding nothing. No one. He wasn’t there. The spot at the foot of her bed where he had meditated was empty. Not even a physical trace of boot prints or the towering shadow of his vigil, yet she didn’t feel abandoned. Far from it as the air still carried a subtle trace of his presence. Heavy yet she did not perceive it as oppressive. It was more like the blanket wrapped around her except she could feel it around her mind and soul.

 

“Georgian…?” She whispered his name though was unsure whether he would hear it, regardless of his beastly keen ears. 

 

Then she felt it. While the footsteps were utterly silent, that presence that she was increasingly growing attached to was ascending to her. She pushed herself upright slightly, resting her weight on trembling arms as Dynamo appeared. He came up into the room with the same quiet, powerful grace she was learning to associate with him. One hand rested on the railing as he paused, his royal blue eyes betraying the surprise at seeing that she had woken up.

 

“Good morning, Pri- Zelda.” This time, he managed to catch himself. Perhaps it wasn't appropriate anymore to use her royal title but he could not help it. Part of him still remained guarded despite what had happened between them the night before. He wasn't exactly ignoring it… but he was not fully acknowledging his own sentiments either.

 

The Damsel Princess’ lips curved upwards faintly, her body sagging in visible relief. “You didn’t leave.” Admittedly, there was a growing fear of being left alone. If she was alone, then the world around her would revert back to that forsaken Basement. 

 

His words broke her train of thought. “No.” Though his tone was gentler when shaking his head with innate firmness. “I made a promise.” The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer did not need to continue as it was clear what he meant, beginning to approach the bed in the quietness that followed his statement. 

 

Smiling more, she didn’t respond with words. Instead, she lifted her arms toward him again, an unspoken gesture of trust and, now, one of growing affection as well. Her emerald blue eyes glinted as she glanced up at him, a little playful despite her weariness. 

 

He paused for a breath, then gave a soft exhale that might’ve been a chuckle, barely audible. Without a word, he stopped at her bedside and scooped her into his arms again, bridal-style. Like before, she nestled against him naturally, her head resting near his collar as though it belonged there. The slow, deliberate descent down the stairs mirrored his ascent the night before, though now, the tension in the air had faded into something warmer, perhaps even sacred and intimate between the two contrasting beings. One of the divine and one of the demonic.

 

When they reached the table, Dynamo set her down gently in the same chair she had sat in the previous night. The table had been tidied, the room filled with the faint scent of cocoa, cinnamon, vanilla and something warm and nourishing. Before her was a wooden tray with a small bowl of rice with milk. It was where the other scents were coming from as cocoa and cinnamon powder had been lightly dusted on the surface of it while vanilla seeds had been mixed into it. Next to it was a cup of chamomile tea, her favourite and, by sheer luck of the draw, available from the packets within the opened MRE. 

 

“I know that it is not a feast… as you would have been accustomed to from the time before…” He paused and measured his words, grimacing slightly before continuing. “However, I do hope that it is to your liking.”

 

Zelda blinked at the spread, touched by the care and confused as to why it sounded like he was making excuses when she gave absolutely no indication of being displeased with what she was presented with. “You made this yourself?” In fact, it was quite the contrary as her smile broadened if it was at all possible, the surprise evident in her question.

 

With a silent nod of confirmation, he sat down across from her, gaze moving to the device on his left gauntlet as he began working on it. While his main mission now was overseeing her recovery as well as bringing Hyrule back to normality, he could not avoid his other responsibilities as The Supreme Commander of the Watchdogs. Reading through briefings from all across existence, thinking up strategic plans, approving contracts of humanitarian aid, everything and anything that was required of him, he did it. Most of all, it was most important to begin coordinating with the natives of the Kingdom, with the Hero and the Watchdogs that he commanded out of the ‘Hexen’ Forward Operating Base.

 

Watching him be so serious, The Princess couldn't help but giggle a bit. He was so surly and trying to be hardened but it only came off as adorable to her. Likely because, despite that, his words and gestures flew in the face of it. She began to eat, slowly, enjoying every morsel as if it was the first one. For something so unassuming looking, it was actually quite delicious. On top of that, she was going to need all of it in order to begin regaining her power.

 

His expression didn’t shift, but something softened in his eyes as they flickered over to hers, a glint of wryness flickering beneath the stoicism. There was a subject that he wanted to broach but he was patient with it, giving her the time she needed.

 

Catching his gaze, she looked at the demonic mutant then, more closely, as she sipped the tea. The steam curled between them like something intimate and unseen. “You really mean to stay with me through all of it?” Zelda asked as if knowing what he wanted to talk about yet also seeking reassurance. 

 

His eyes had not moved from hers, his right hand brought up to lay on the table as he rested his other on his thigh. “Yes.” There was no shred of doubt to that single word.

 

Her fingers tightened around the cup of tea as she stared at the liquid, her tone faltering. “Even if I am so embarrassingly weak? Even if it takes time to regain my full strength?” For a moment, her eyes glistened and her voice cracked on the words.

 

Though The Second Hellwalker was as stalwart as ever. “Absolutely.” There was no hesitation in his response. “I will carry you until you can walk again. I will carry you until you can run again.” Each word held clear emphasis and even growing conviction, burning brighter with each passing moment. “And when you can stand on your own again, I will be right there beside you. I will train with you, I will guide you, I will swim with you.” And that was a sworn oath from Georgian, his royal blue eyes aflame with determination. “As soon as you feel that you are ready for us to begin, we can. I already have a plan laid out.” It was… quite the unique opportunity for him, to finally put all of the knowledge he had as a professor to good use, to be something other than a soldier.

 

She was quiet at that, cheeks faintly flushed from more than just the heat of the tea. It was safe to say that she had rarely felt such dedication from someone. In fact, her parents were the only ones that would reasonably surpass it, for obvious reasons. After his staunch declaration and vow, she looked at him again with those still glistening emerald blue eyes of hers. “Then… after I'm finished?” Came The Princess’ tentative question, almost as if she was afraid he might change his mind.

 

However, that was not the case as The Mercenary nodded. “As you wish.” 

 

A hush fell between them as she resumed her eating. She took a careful spoonful of porridge, her hand trembling only slightly. And he, the feared Demon Worse Than Demons, simply watched her with patient, unwavering calm. Not as the killer he proclaimed himself as but as the protector he truly was deep within .

Chapter 8

Soon, Zelda’s training and recovery would begin in earnest. Soon, she would no longer be weak.

 

As a matter of fact, that time came even sooner than she would have expected. For the duration, her house in Hateno became their world, a quiet sanctum tucked at the eastern edge of the Kingdom, where dawns broke gently and dusk came with the scent of woodsmoke and chamomile tea. There was no war here, only healing, carried out in the smallest, most meaningful of gestures.

 

Steadily, The Princess’ body began to regain its strength after it had been left weak and trembling from starvation. At first, it was only single steps across the room, her balance still wavering. Thankfully, acting as her professor, Dynamo was always there, a steady presence at her side, never allowing her to fall. He didn’t hover, but he never strayed too far either. When she faltered, his hand was there. When she stumbled, his arms caught her without hesitation. Always, without fail.

 

Each morning began the same.

 

She would wake to the smell of something simple and warm, be it porridge, broth, boiled eggs, even fresh bread and milk, thanks to a discreet trip Dynamo had made into the village under cover of night. The villagers were also very kind and helpful, trustworthy enough to keep quiet regarding the fact that the Princess of Hyrule had returned. He never explained how he did it. He simply appeared with things she needed and those she did not know she did. A new brush for her hair or an extra shawl for the colder nights. Various remedies to ease the knots in her back. Every single time, without fail, he would appear at the foot of her bed come dawn, having spent the night in silent meditation and aroused early to have breakfast already prepared for when she would wake. The Final Knight was absolutely tireless and even relentless with it, making sure that all was right with her and for her so that she would have the best chance of recovery.

 

More than once, she had tried to convince him to sleep in some shape or form, but he had only given a quiet, immovable shake of the head. Deep in his eyes, there was dread regarding that notion, one that he tried to hide from her as much as possible. Zelda needed him to be the bedrock, to be strong and stalwart, so he ignored any perceived weakness when it came to himself. At some point, she would unravel him, it was inevitable. Until then, she instead came to cherish that quiet silhouette. It made her feel safe, knowing that The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer sat beneath her window and guarded her slumber as though it were a sacred vow.

 

Her strength returned in fragments.

 

She could eventually walk across the room without support of any kind. Then up and down the stairs by herself. Soon, The Princess could stretch her arms above her head without pain, mobility returning to her joints. All throughout the day, they would tackle various aspects, everything having been already planned out by him with masterful precision. Sometimes in the evening, she would read aloud from old Sheikah research journals or Hyrule Historia, and, though Dynamo rarely commented, he always listened. His rage filled royal blue eyes softened every time she spoke. Her voice seemed to settle the restless Demon Worse Than Demons inside him… or the voice that it would roar against.

 

They didn’t always speak, but the silence between them was worth more than a thousand words.

 

Some nights, Zelda would fall asleep mid-sentence with a book in her lap. He would remove it and set it aside safely before carrying her up to her bed and tucking the blanket around her with a gentleness that did not match the hardened expression he wore or the blood-soaked burdens The Mercenary carried. On quieter evenings during rains, she’d sit with him while he prepared her tea. He never spoke of his past unless prompted but when she asked, he answered. Carefully and honestly. He told her of his Watchdogs and their triumphs to establish a Multiversal Peacekeeping organisation. His tone was quite proud and she beamed at seeing The Supreme Commander side of him, confident yet not overly boastful. Sometimes he'd tell her of the many other Realms he had been too, from cybernetic worlds to lands between and even worlds that rose out of nuclear fallout, there was never a dull retelling.

 

And every day, something invisible drew them closer.

 

There were fleeting touches. A hand on his arm when he handed her a cup. A brush of her fingers over his gloved ones when she thanked him. Once, The Silent Princess reached up to push back a lock of black hair from his forehead and The Second Hellwalker had stilled completely, as if her touch alone could cleave him open. She giggled at that, her finger tracing down the side of his face and through his beard. She noticed how his eyes lingered longer now. Not as a soldier sizing up an enemy, but as a… man, yes, a man… learning to let himself be seen again.

 

In the small backyard behind the house, she sometimes tried her old prayers and meditation, trying to unlock her sacred power, still so faint beneath the lingering weight of suppression. The Final Knight would stand nearby, arms crossed, observing silently. There was something reverent in his stillness, as if watching her reach for the divine reminded him of something long lost to time. Every time he saw her frustration boil to the surface, he would speak up. It was more than normal for it to take time, but the fact that she felt the power within her was a good start. The proverbial faucet just needed to be loosened in order to break open the damn. That could only be achieved through total training, everything that they were doing was focused on one goal, including the activities outside of the regular training as it was.

 

All the while, their bond deepened without ceremony, without fanfare. It was in the shared cup of chamomile and mint tea respectively. The slow walks around the edge of the Midla and Ginner Woods that hastened the stronger her legs became. The silence before the first stars appeared in the sky, when the world seemed to hold its breath just for them as they sat underneath the cherry tree at the top of Ebon Mountain after a long trekking session.

 

Zelda felt it most at night, when he kneeled at the foot of her bed, unmoving in his unyielding nature, meditating as if he alone could hold back the darkness that still circled just beyond the walls. Every now and then, before sleep took her, she would whisper his name, not loudly, just enough for the syllables to fill the air between them. Always, without fail, he would answer. Not with words, but with the slightest incline of his head, or a glance over his shoulder. As though her voice could guide him out of the blackest recesses of even Hell itself.

 

In those fleeting moments before sleep fully claimed her, The Silent Princess knew with absolute clarity: she was falling in love with the man who had once been sent to kill her.

 

Ironically or not, even him, Georgian Dynamo, The Mercenary Burdened with The DOOM Slayer, feared and revered across countless Realms, was quietly, irrevocably falling just the same.

Chapter 9

Come the next day, the sun was high and golden over Hateno Beach, casting long, gentle shadows across the ivory sand. Wind whistled softly through the steep rocks behind them, marking the natural eastern barrier of Kitano bay. The distant cry of seabirds wove through the hush of gently rolling azure waves. The air was heavy with the scent of brine and salt-stung blossoms, a scent that was very familiar to the demonic mutant. While he had been a native of the capital Bucharest, most of his early life until turning twenty-one was spent on the Brotherhood of Harbingers’ Home Base just off the shore of Olimp and Neptun, right in the Black Sea. 

 

Zelda stood barefoot at the edge of the sand, the water licking at her toes, her breath measured. Her pale blue lobster shirt borrowed from her brother-in-arms long ago fluttered around her thighs as the breeze pulled at it, revealing the subtle strength returning to her frame. Her posture was stronger than it had been weeks ago, chin lifted, shoulders back but there was still some tension in her spine, a hesitancy that clung to her like sea mist.

 

Behind her, Dynamo approached with quiet steps, the sand crunching softly beneath his boots. His own clothing was minimal, having left his black jacket and brown backpack against a nearby rock, only his white compression shirt remaining on his upper body. His forearms still had his gauntlets,  just as his hands were still gloved. The exposed skin of his arms was slightly tensed with lean muscle and pale scars, each telling a story of strife and sorrow, each a blow taken so another might not suffer. “You’re hesitating again.” His silence broken, he stopped beside her with his hands clasped behind his back, inwardly feeling unusually at ease near the water. His voice was low, unreadable, but not unkind or hash.

 

Slightly frustrated with herself, The Princess exhaled. “I know.” Her brow knitted as she momentarily closed her eyes. “I’m trying.”

 

“I know you are.” He gave a slow nod,  his gaze fixed not on her but on the sea, specifically on the rhythmic waves as he could see himself leaping over them in a butterfly stroke. “But, unlike regular training, which entails pushing the limits when you are at your peak, recovery isn’t about trying harder.” Once again, he was inadvertently showing that he was not just a soldier. First and foremost, he would always be a swimmer and professor. “While it is physically about bringing yourself back to the optimum baseline, mentally, it is about letting go of what no longer serves you.” Just like always, mind and body went hand in hand, with him motioning that very fact with his own hands before bringing them back behind him out of simple habit.

 

She turned to him with her cheeks slightly puffed out, sand and foam clinging to her feet. “Easy for you to say. You heal from anything in minutes.” It was a mild complaint but she did not mean anything negative by it.

 

His gaze flicked toward her, sharp, but not offended. “Not everything. Not what’s in here.” He tapped his temple as he kept his tone measured, shutting off any perceived weakness. “And not what I’ve done.” While he had spoken of his past, he was not yet willing to fully confide in her. She needed to focus on herself, not him. No distractions were needed.

 

Zelda’s expression softened as she turned to him, knowing that he was keeping something from her, those burdens of his. She didn’t want to press him, not yet but she watched him for a moment, her wise beyond her years emerald blue eyes searching his expression. “Why do you train me like this? You’re... gentler than I expected.” A soft giggle escaped her lips, for a second, covering them with a hand.

 

“What did you expect?” The demonic mutant was actually intrigued by that, idly rubbing his beard with his left hand. “It is only appropriate. I have all this knowledge about theory, pedagogy, psychology, training and performance… This is a chance for me to put it to good use.” A simple reasoning but it was not the only one. “Not to mention that I could not leave it up to chance.”

 

“I thought you would be a lot harsher.” The Princess admitted with an embarrassed giggle. “I remember faintly, the drills that the soldiers would do and how their supervisor would outright bark at them.” 

 

He grimaced at that, his hand moving to rub the back of his head. “That approach… would not have been appropriate.” Sure, he could have used that, but it would not have felt appropriate, especially when she was one of the most dedicated students possible. There was no reason to push her further when she pushed herself enough. Supporting and directing her was the right way to do it. Assertive yet benevolent. For a long moment, there was only the sea and the wind between them. Then, he figured it was time to begin, turning to her fully and dressing his tone as he was the mentor once more. “Today’s not about strikes or counters. Today is about balance. Mind and body. That’s why we’re here.” He gestured to a driftwood log embedded halfway in the sand, half-sunken in the froth. “You’re going to walk that.” He directed as he did exactly that, doing so with his hands behind his back. “End to end. Calm, cold and calculated.” His gaze was always towards her as he spoke, turning and stepping back with masterful precision. “Again and again until you stop thinking about it.” At the end, he stepped off, very much comfortable in the water as he walked through it back to her.

 

Zelda eyed the slippery wood with some suspicion. “You want me to fall into the sea.” She accused and was half tempted to try and push him into the water… though she had better concentrate on the task at hand. Surely, it couldn't be that difficult… could it?

 

“Ideally, no.” He almost smiled at her ‘accusation’, shaking his head. “But that is inevitable.” That was not the goal that he was aiming for, rather one significantly more important. “It matters not how many times you fall, but that you will succeed after repeated attempts.”

 

She gave him a wry look. “That sounds like something father would say.” For a moment, there was a twinge of sadness in her tone.

 

“I’m not your father, Princess.” Despite the words, there was empathy in his voice. Safe to say, he had known loss as well, a part of him still grieving and having never let go.

 

“No.” She said succinctly, stepping toward the log while her head was still turned towards him, smiling faintly. “You’re something else entirely.”

 

That had a softer look on him until firming up again, though nowhere near the usual hardness of The Mercenary. “Remember that massive trunk in Ginner Woods?” He asked as he began making his way around the log and to the side of it, essentially standing in the water.

 

She stopped before one end of it and thought for a second. “Yes, you had me walk across that one as well.” Her eyes went to him in silent question as to where he was going with this.

 

“This is the same, just a tad more difficult.” The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer stated succinctly, a knowledgeable look playing on his otherwise stern expression. “From easy to hard.” One of the four principles of learning anything put into practice.

 

She figured… but, at the same time, these were two separate environments. How could walking across a log in the woods, where it was embedded into the soil, come close to doing the same with it buried in shifting sand and with water constantly battering it? Still, The Silent Princess had to do it. She steeled herself with a deep breath and, thusly, began her training session. Zelda stepped atop the log, arms slightly outstretched as she struggled to keep her equilibrium. Her eyes were glued down and her first steps were unsteady, tentative. It was not long before she slipped and was forced to leap into the water, soaking herself to the knees. Then, it happened again… and again… and again. Each time, she came back up, lips pressed tight, not speaking. She'd steal a glance from The Second Hellwalker, a part of her expecting him to berate her or to look at her with disappointment. However, that was not the case as Dynamo stood in the water close to the log. His arms were crossed, watching with the calm patience of someone who could wait for centuries and his royal blue eyes held, not just the belief, but the firm knowledge that she could do it. There was no need for many words, his supportive presence was enough. Only small reminders, to breathe, to control the tenseness and to look where she wanted to get to not where she was now.

 

By the seventh attempt, at least out of the ones tbat were more successful, her footing was growing significantly more confident. Her eyes narrowed, and her steps grew fluid, like the waves that surrounded her and threaded up the beach. There was just one thing…

 

“You’re holding your breath again.” He called assertively, noticing it instantly. “All else is significantly better already.”

 

“I’m not—” She began, but cut herself short, realizing she was. There really was no arguing with him when he was in his mentoring role.

 

“Don’t be afraid to breathe.” His voice softened slightly, understanding what she was feeling. “Breathing is what gives you rhythm and calmness.” He directed as he let his hands down at his sides, his fingers touching the waves that moved past him. “Be like the water.” One of his hands was raised and he let it drip off as he directed calmly. “Inhale, step, exhale, step. Simple and clean.”

 

Zelda took in a breath, letting it fill her to the fullest before taking the next step. Then, she exhaled with the next one. Again and again, in time with the sway of the waves against the log. Before she had realised it, she had walked to the end, turned, and walked back without stumbling once. “I did it?” Even she couldn't believe it as she looked back at it then at Georgian. “I did it!”

 

There was the faintest of smiles on his bearded expression. “Yes, you did.” He gave a nod before instructing benevolently. “Now, again.”

 

With her confidence bolstered and the right technique etched in her mind, she obeyed without question.

 

It went on like that for hours, the sun dipping slowly toward the horizon. When the world began to chill ever so slightly, they stopped, her professor of sorts allowing her the time she needed to rest. As twilight began to settle upon the land, the heat of the sun lingered on the sand beneath them, they sat side by side. Zelda wrung seawater from the ends of her hair while Dynamo busied himself with the holographic projection coming from his SMI. A Supreme Commander's work was never done after all.

 

“You always speak as if the sea is alive.” She remarked with a kind smile, as if seeing him in a new light while brushing her damp lobster shirt down. “It's different from usual.”

 

“In a way, it is. The way the waves move up and down… like the ocean breathing…. In and out… In and out.” He mused as he switched off the SMI, just staring out into sea. “It washes away everything… Lifts all burdens and cleanses even ones soul.” There was a reminiscent look in his royal blue eyes, not looking at her yet. “And it always remains.”

 

Zelda was quiet as she took in his words of wisdom. The breeze played gently with her hair and the dying sun set it aglow like burnished gold. It made her eyes sparkle a bit, the fire in her now significantly renewed in comparison to mere weeks ago. However… she still had much more until she would feel like herself again and those darkened thoughts always bubbled up to the surface from the abyss of her mind. “Georgian…” She said after a pause, her tone indicative of an inquiry to follow. “Do you really think I’ll be strong enough again? To stand and protect Hyrule?”

 

By the time he'd heard the question, his gaze was already on her, much softer compared to when he was mentoring her. He didn't need any keen senses to be able to tell that she was doubting herself but there was a fact that was completely undeniable. “Zelda, that strength you speak of… You have it already. We are merely working on bringing it back out.” He assured her with the most sincerity that he could possibly muster.

 

She looked away, blinking in surprise, her heart full and aching in the same breath. “You don’t say things like that lightly, do you?” She asked with a bashful glance back at him out of the corner of her eyes.

 

“I only speak the facts as they are.” Georgian stated with a slight smile on his hardened expression, if only for a moment. After all, he did not see it as something overly special when it was just the way that things were. 

 

Following that, silence settled between them, a comforting one that held the unspoken understanding from him towards her feelings of inadequacy. That inherent warmth from the demonic mutant was what drew The Silent Princess closer, tentative as she leaned her head gently against his right shoulder. Unlike other times or other lives… this time, he didn’t flinch nor pull away, but simply allowed it to happen as if rolling with the waves.

 

The last tendrils of sunlight spilled across Hateno Beach, staining the water in hues of gold and dark crimson. The sky was a canvas of fading fire of clouds draped across it and the sea held its breath rippling softly in response. A hush had settled on the shore, broken only by the breeze that wrapped itself around the two figures seated just beyond the reach of the waves constantly climbing yet always retreating.

 

Zelda sat cross-legged while still leaning against his shoulder, her hands resting loosely in her lap. Her light blue shirt still clung damply to her skin, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her emerald blue gaze was fixed on the horizon, that unchanging line where the sky met sea, seemingly melting into one another. The fading orange light reflected in her eyes, making them appear lit from within, as if her own spirit were ablaze. “It’s strange. I come here, and everything is the same.” She spoke at last, her voice a quiet lilt carried on the wind. “The trees on the cliff, the curve of the shore, even the way the gulls call out just before dusk. Hateno Beach has remained untouched by all the pain that’s swept across Hyrule.” She paused as she averted her eyes from the view to her hands. “I used to believe that was comforting.”

 

For now, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer said nothing, only listening keenly to each word and the nuance underneath it. He sat beside her, his left knee drawn up, his forearm on the same side resting casually across it. The white shirt molded to his frame was drying quickly in the warm breeze and his short black hair stirred faintly with each gust.

 

The Silent Princess glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, brows knitting gently. “But lately I’ve started to wonder if that makes me weak. Wanting something… constant. Unchanging.” With a brief exhale, she looked up fully at the demonic mutant with a burning question. “Is that selfish of me?”

 

Dynamo let out a long exhale through his nose to the point that it might have seemed like he'd never stop. His royal blue eyes remained on the ocean, watching how the waves folded upon themselves with rhythm only the Waversplitter in him could discern. “No.” He stated firmly after a long beat. “It makes you human.”

 

Zelda looked away again, lifting herself to sit upright and hugging her knees lightly. “It’s just… the world is always moving forward, always breaking apart and rebuilding. I should want to change with it. But this place… this beach… it makes me wish that I could freeze this moment in time and live in it… Without a worry, without a burden.”

 

The Mercenary's brow creased faintly as he listened, shifting to sit cross-legged as well with his head turned towards her. His left gloved hand reached down, gathering a fistful of sand, feeling its cool grit against the thin nanofibertech texture covering his skin. Then he let it fall in a soft stream between his fingers. “I know that feeling.” He murmured lowly, his tone heavy, even burdened with regrets. “All too well.”

 

Inevitably, that had The Princess intrigued, like she was uncovering a new piece of the puzzle that was The Second Hellwalker. She was quiet yet hoped that he'd continue and tell her more as to why. If he understood her, she wanted to understand him more in return.

 

“Where I come from…” Georgian began while staring out into nothing, “There was a stretch of coast not too dissimilar to this one. Not as big… but it's beauty could compare. On the edge of the Black Sea… near the small village of Olimp.” There was a slight fondness in his voice as he reminisced, yet also longing, a longing so deep that the common tongue did not have the proper words to describe it… but his native one did. Dor. “ I used to swim in the water’s of the Black Sea for hours when I was a boy and my parents took me there… Always jumping over the crashing waves, through them, going underneath them… I used to think of myself as a master of the seas… I liked the cold wind during those hot summer days… The crash of the tide against the wavebreakers.” Almost, there was almost a fond smile on his bearded expression and he almost seemed younger, like the burdens had been lifted, if only for that fleeting moment when he was back there. “The sense that the world was much bigger than me... but it didn’t mind that I was there.” He looked out toward the sea as though trying to trace something long vanished. As if trying to spot the series of platforms that had been Home Base. “That place… is gone now.” His tone became empty as his eyes became downcast. “Nothing remains of Realm Alpha but a void… It is true that Realm Prime, Terra Prime respectively, does have its own Romania, its own Black Sea and we, the Watchdogs, have Mother Base there…” There was a heavier pause as if he was straining himself to actually say it, because he did not want to believe that it had happened. “My home… my kingdom…” His voice tightened as his left fist clenched against the sand. “It’s gone. All gone.” And he was still blaming himself for that cataclysm. 

 

Several centuries had passed yet that one single event still plagued him and had him marked in the same way it had left him with that distinct red scar across his right eye. Some wounds, not even the passage of time could heal.

 

Safe to say… Zelda did not know how to respond to that, what to say. It sounded like so much and she was frankly impressed that he was still a man after all of that. Many others would have given up after essentially losing their entire existence but he did not. Her tiny hand by comparison found the space between them, resting just close enough that her fingers brushed his. “I’m sorry.” Was all that she could say, lifting and placing her left hand over his right one, curling her delicate fingers around it.

 

Georgian didn’t flinch or draw away. He had opened up now and was… too emotional to move his hand, instead curling his fingers around hers in the sand. It was a simple gesture from her but it comforted him like nothing else had before. “It's… alright.” He tried to assure her with a fleeting glance though he was unsure whether he believed it himself. “It is… the thing that drives me most. Because I don't want this… tragedy… from ever repeating again anywhere at all possible.” Perhaps it was an unrealistic goal and he knew that he may not be able to prevent it… but he would at the very least do his absolute damndest to.

 

The Silent Princess looked down at their intertwined hands in thought, suddenly realising.  “Then… that is why you came to Hyrule.” Her eyes went up at him with new understanding. “To protect it from such a fate.” It was not that they could not protect it themselves, but when forces from outside the Realm of Virtues threatened the land that the Goddesses had created, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer would be one of the beings meant to balance out the scale of existence and preserve the natural order of events, lest all the Realms suffer a gruesome fate.

 

He nodded once, then turned to face her, adding to what she had said. “And you.” His royal blue gaze softened at those words, yet they held his unbreakable conviction. “Those that… I've come to see as family.” Despite his tone remaining lowered, at least he did not sound as burdened. Maybe The Mercenary was finally starting to accept that he wasn't alone in his own cold world anymore. “Those with the Blood of the Goddess and the Spirit of the Hero.” It was more of a confession than he had intended but he did not regret acknowledging it after far too long. Part of him did regret that it had taken all of this for him to finally see.

 

Zelda looked down at their hands again, her voice soft as she spoke. “You’ve never told me much about your home.” Her eyes fluttered back up at him with quiet curiosity. 

 

“There isn’t much left to tell…” He replied in an almost desolate tone, rubbing his beard with his left hand. “The Romanian Kingdom was once one of the mightiest countries in the twenty-first century… and our civilisation was born from two of the mightiest ones from ancient times, Romans and Dacians.” The Final Knight hadn't meant for this to turn into a history lesson, but he could see it on her expression how she was a sponge for such information. “My middle name is actually the name of the last King of Dacia, Decebal, who died defending it against one of the greatest Roman emperors, Traian.” A long and even heavy exhale left him as he was quiet for several seconds, letting the echo of the waves fill that silence. “But that is all gone now… and only I know that it has happened.” Survivor's guilt was… something difficult to deal with, oftentimes leaving him to wonder why was he the only one who had made it and thinking on what he could have done differently. Centuries of it, centuries of having his thoughts consumed by it. Though there was relief to be found when swimming, when feeling that comforting pressure around his whole body. “At least the sea is the same wherever I go, the rhythm, the waves… They always lighten some of the burden… Wash away some of the pain.”

 

The Silent Princess’ eyes filled with something unreadable, a deep longing perhaps, or guilt of some sort. Part of her wanted to not just understand but help him as he had helped her. She wanted to be more than a burden, though she knew that he would never say that of her. At least she was grateful that he was showing her something more than his hardened side. “Then you do understand…” She whispered with an almost bittersweet smile. “The need for something to stay the same.”

 

“Of course I do.” Georgian said simply and with a single nod. They were more alike than he had initially thought, yet different enough at the same time. Perfectly balanced as all things should be. “It’s not a weakness, Zelda.” His gaze remained on her as he squeezed her hand. “Sometimes… it's best for things to stay the same.” There was a light shrug from him as he mused, keeping his hand on his chin. “There's even a saying about it.” His eyes moved back to the horizon when he spoke it. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” One of the Generals that he had fought under used to say that, in the years after the Realm Alpha Cataclysm. That same General had taught him a very important lesson in betrayal and loyalty to his comrades-in-arms.

 

The salty breeze stirred around them again, cooler as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows that stretched over the beach. The tide was slowly starting to retreat from the shore, the water darkening as stars began dotting the purple navy sky above them. It was peaceful, indeed a corner of the world that dared to remain unchanging… and that was perfect.

 

Tentatively, The Silent Princess leaned into his right shoulder once again, letting out a long exhale though she did not press herself fully against him, almost as if there was an inherent inquiry from her. One that The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer understood and he didn’t hesitate. He shifted slightly, allowing her to rest fully against him, her head tucked beneath his jaw and her cheek resting against his chest. His right arm came up to wrap around her, not possessive but protective, as he always would be. 

 

“I just… don’t want to lose what we have found here.” She admitted in a whisper against his chest, staring out into nothing.

 

“You will not, Zelda.” Georgian answered, his voice low but inherently reasserting the vow he'd made. “Not for as long as I draw breath. I promise.” A sworn duty.

 

The stars had scattered themselves like diamonds across the night sky by the time The Silent Princess began to drift into the bliss of sleep, her breathing growing shallow and even against The Mercenary's chest. The tide had retreated further now, drawing a soft hush in its wake, and the embers of the sunset had long since cooled into blue shadows. The seemingly omnipresent breeze rustled the dune grass behind them in slow, whispering waves, almost in tune with the water.

 

Dynamo felt the weight of her shift slightly, her body no longer held by intention but by trust that he was there. She was asleep or very nearly there. Her warmth pooled against him, gentle like morning sun but it no longer felt fragile like when they had first met in that cursed Basement. Though she had been weathered by imprisonment she did not deserve, her spirit was just the same. 

 

Without a word, he moved. First, he made sure to grab his jacket and backpack, draping both over his left shoulder. Then, rising smoothly from the sand, The Second Hellwalker gathered her into his arms, cradling her close against his chest. She stirred only faintly, a sigh escaping her lips as her left arm slipped around his neck on instinct, her right hand gently clutching the folds of his shirt. Feeling that, he did not exactly smile… but he softened, looking down at her for a long moment, the wild strands of her long sandy golden hair catching silver in the moonlight, before beginning the slow walk back toward the village. Each step was deliberate and controlled, marching out of simple habit. After all, he was still a Soldier, The Mercenary. The sand underneath his combat boots gave way without resistance, parting and reforming in his wake. The path wound along the coastal trail, weaving between brushes and a few blue nightshades, their petals open and glowing with their eponymous colour in the dark. The lights of Hateno Village were faint, most of the peasants having long finished their work and now settled to rest for the coming day. There was no one on the streets either, though he was still inherently discreet while walking through where the shadows were darkest.

 

Zelda murmured something incomprehensible in her sleep, her forehead brushing lightly against his collarbone as her brows knitted themselves. 

 

“You’re safe.” Dynamo whispered as he momentarily leaned closer to her, his voice more breath than sound. “Always.” Then he gazed back ahead on the path he was following.

 

The village was a place of peace, even now. A pocket of hope in a land that was otherwise suffering without its rightful monarchs. Its stone walls and quiet chimneys offered no judgment, only rest. Hateno had always been that kind of place, and perhaps that was why The Princess had come here. Why she belonged here. Crossing from west to east, they soon reached her house at the edge of town, a simple two-story dwelling tucked beside a wind-weathered maple tree and shadowed by Ebon Mountain. Just like when he had come with her in his arms the first time, The Second Hellwalker crossed the wooden bridge over Firly Pond, quietly reflecting on how far she had come in just a few weeks. It was beyond impressive and even humbling, making him even more determined to support her, if that was at all possible. Quietly, he pushed the door in and stepped inside. The house was warm and even welcoming, dimly lit by a lantern placed on the table in the middle of the room with maps and tomes strewn over it from her studies. It felt like home for her. He did not turn on more lights, instead, ascending the stairs in silence, mindful of every creak in the wood. Her room was just as she left it, with the window slightly ajar to let in the air and cool a restless mind. The bed had been made earlier that morning, as it always was, with a folded blanket at its edge and a single book still resting on the nightstand where she’d left it, the Hyrule Historia, next to a potted flower, an unbloomed silent princess that The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer had brought her.

 

He laid her down carefully, gently untangling her arm from around his neck. She murmured again and reached out blindly, half asleep, half dreaming. Her hand brushed the back of his right glove and tensed there. Sensing that, he didn’t pull away even as he used his other hand to pull the covers over her. Then, he instead knelt beside the bed and let her hold that one scrap of him for as long as she needed. Her breathing slowed, fell into rhythm again. He watched her chest rise and fall beneath the soft blanket, the faintest crease still present between her brows. Even in sleep, her soul bore the tension of survival, those lingering aches from the time spent in the Cabin.

 

It… genuinely pained him so see that and he wished that he had the power to lift all of that agony from her, for him to be the one to carry it. The demonic mutant lifted his free left hand and, very gently, brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. He sat there for a long while, long after her hand fell back to the sheets and the last lantern downstairs burned itself to sleep. His thoughts wandered, quiet and stormy, like the sea at night. There was still so much ahead of them, they still had a whole Kingdom to save from the clutches of a madman. Everything that they were doing now was in preparation for that. There was comfort in the fact that she would never again face any of it alone. While he was doing his best to aid her, her brother was doing the same for the people, bringing together forces for good that would be ready when the Princess was finally returned to her people

 

At last, he stood, moving with care not to wake her. One last gentler glance lingered before he turned, pulling the covers gently up over her shoulders. Then, as silent as he’d come, he moved to the foot of her bed, where his place was. He fully placed his black jacket over his shoulders while leaving the backpack against the wall on his left, closing the zipper and adjusting the collar around his neck before he knelt. Drawing in a deep breath, he was able to begin chanting the Mantra of The DOOM Slayer, focusing and tempering his inner rage, forcing himself to rest through meditation without the risk of becoming Maddened with Savagery.

 

Tomorrow was another day. 

 

Chapter 10

One by one, they turned into weeks again. Each of these days, The Princess rose like the sun itself, slow but radiant, burning brighter with each subsequent passage of time. The fragility of her body had faded, replaced by a shimmering, luminous strength that dwelled just beneath her skin. Her cheeks were no longer hollow, and the trembling in her limbs had vanished. With each sunrise, she walked with more certainty, her voice carried further, her spine stood taller. Though she still bore the scars of her imprisonment in the Cabin, both within and without, she was no longer the broken prisoner The Mercenary had carried out of the Basement.

 

She was becoming herself again… and it was he who guided her through that transformation.

 

Georgian had become more than a savior, more than a Knight looking after his charge  He had become her professor, her protector, and her relentless coach, driven by a quiet fury against the ones that had tried to break her. Always, he demanded her best and yet never with cruelty. There was no softness in his tone when they trained, but there was always an undercurrent of care. He watched her intently during every session, measuring her breath, the shift of her stance, the twitch of her fingers as she reached deeper into her Sacred Power.

 

"Good. Now, again." He would command, arms crossed over his chest, boots planted firmly in the dirt of the backyard, royal blue eyes scanning every flare of her golden light. "Hold it steady. Focus your mind. Feel the power coursing through you, through Hylia's blood running through your veins, see that fire, see it become brighter.” While it was true that he had no such powers of his own, the very same principles applied. “Let it out.”

 

That was exactly what she did.

 

At first, she could only summon a flicker of divine radiance, and it would sputter in her palm like a candle left in the wind. However, under his stern but watchful guidance, that light grew stronger and stronger. It took shape, be it as threads of pure luminous force, glowing sigils of sealing, barriers of sacred flame and cleansing energy. When she faltered, his benevolently firm voice would anchor her. When she wavered, his hand would immediately be there to steady her body. And when she succeeded, a faint smile would tug at the corners of his mouth. He praised her with words every time that she deserved it but that slight softening in his royal blue eyes was all the reward she needed.

 

Their days had a certain rhythm that was not too dissimilar to a training camp. Once more, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer was showing his roots as an Olympic swimmer. In the mornings, he would always train right alongside her. From the basics of close quarters combat, to archery, to circuits of physical exercises, all of it weaving, combining and compensating one another in nearly harmony. It was difficult, demanding, challenging, but The Princess never once felt that it was so far beyond her capabilities. Every single time, she merely had to push a little bit more and the payout would come even sooner than she might have expected. Everything was meticulously planned and optimised by him specifically for that. Then, in the afternoons, they meditated side by side beneath the canopy near the edge of Midla woods, close to where Firly Pond  was, carrying the scent of fresh spring water and the soothing coolness rolling off the looming Tuft Mountain. Finally, at night, she would brush her fingers against his gloved hand as he handed her a cup of tea, always chamomile, her gaze lingering longer with every passing day.

 

While much of his hardened demeanour remained despite the tender moment they had shared on that first night, with each perceived success at showing him her gratitude in any way she could, Zelda grew bolder. Her hand brushing his arm when she passed and he was sitting, eyes concentrated on the SMI. Other times, she would rest her head briefly against his shoulder after a particularly draining training session. Never once did he brush her off and, even though his face did not show it, his royal blue gaze would shine a tad brighter each time. With playful smiles, she'd whisper words of admiration, disguising them as a jest as to not trigger his denial, but always said with truth in her eyes.

 

"You could’ve been a scholar, you know." She found herself remarking one time, smiling faintly as she leaned back against larger wooden log il after a long day of physical training. "With the way you teach."

 

At first, Dynamo did not answer, merely letting out a long exhale as he leaned back as well, folding his arms. His head tilted back as his gaze went to the slightly cloudy sky above. Like an open book, he felt that she was reading him, especially with the way he'd begun fiddling with his left glove. That nervous tick had never left him since he was a teen. “You are right… I could have been.” He agreed though there was a note of sadness and even lament. “I even attended the university for it, to be a professor specialised in performance in sports. I do have the degree for it… a masters one.” It was quite the contrast for someone who was currently the Supreme Commander of a Multiversal Peacekeeping Military Organisation. “I was even going to take it one step beyond, have a doctorate, basically be even more than a master… but that was the same year everything was voided.” His tone held a sorrowful sense of finality and he clenched his left hand into a fist in restraint.

 

Her eyebrows went up with a mix of curiosity and… compassion. Perhaps there were more similarities than she had originally thought… because she still had a love of research if all the books that she would read in the evening were any indication. She didn’t press him. Not yet since she didn’t sense that he would respond too well to it. She let him speak, tell her when he was comfortable. Zelda could see that there was a storm in him constantly. While, yes, he had a fearsome demonic power in him, that was the thing that protected the wounded man inside, the one she had lovingly nicknamed ‘Cebi’. However, she respected his boundaries even when knocking against that proverbial wall of his. Even as she reached for him more and more, she never forced his hand. Instead, she let her presence speak for itself, aware just as much as he was that actions spoke much louder than words. So, that was what she did, speaking with the way she brushed the dust from his shoulders and adjusted the collar of his jacket before they trained. The way her emerald blue eyes followed him when he pretended that he wasn’t looking. The way she lingered in the silence between his words, never afraid of his coldness, because she knew the warmth that existed beneath it. Every single night, he still tucked her in. That hadn’t changed.

 

Even as her strength returned, even as she no longer needed to be carried, even as she began to stride on her own and cast the power of light from her fingers like it was second nature… Without fail or exception, each night, he would help her up the stairs if her body was sore from training, he would lay the blanket over her gently, and he would sit at the foot of her bed, kneeling and calm, meditating and keeping his vigilant watch.

 

Tonight was no different.

 

The Second Hellwalker waited until she had finished brushing out her long blonde hair and had settled into the bed, pulling the silk nightgown over herself with the weariness of honest labor. The Lady Princess watched him quietly from beneath the covers, her emerald blue eyes soft and shining in the moonlight. “You’ve done more for me than anyone, apart from my own parents.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed up at him. “Even when I was at my lowest, you never looked away.” There was an ever thankful smile on her lips. “I see you, Georgian. I see all of you.”

 

At those last words, he paused, standing beside her bed, silent for the longest time. With a single nod, he gently reached down, gloved fingers curling around the edge of the blanket before tucking it just beneath her collarbone. It had been weeks but he had remained just as careful, just as precise.

 

Her hand reached out, fingertips brushing his wrist, warm and light. “Thank you, Georgian.” she said. “For everything.”

 

He met her gaze and, just like usual, his expression didn’t change. Only his eyes did, the windows to the dregs of his soul. “Of course, Zelda.” The Final Knight gave a deep bow of his head. “It is my honour to aid you.” It was incredibly humbling and, at the same time, it all felt… natural, it felt normal to him, to do what he did. And then he turned, settling into his usual place at the foot of her bed, kneeling with his hands on his knees, spine straight, head slightly tilted downwards, eyes closed. The silent Watchdog beneath the window, guarding the peace that she so much deserved, at least for this time of recovery.

 

Zelda turned and adjusted her position in the bed, looking towards his silhouette in the moonlight and allowing herself the smallest smile. She was falling in love with him, that much she could feel and, somehow, beneath all that armour, all that discipline and calculated coldness, he was falling in love with her, as well.

 

Outside, the trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves brushing together in a soothing rhythm to lul all to sleep. Moonlight spilled through the open window above Zelda’s bed, bathing the room in silver and casting soft shadows on the walls. However, within her chest, it was not the breeze or the moon that kept her awake. It was her heart, beating faster with a growing ache, an increase in tempo that had not existed the day she was freed, not to this extent. For several agonisingly long minutes, she just laid on her side, tucked beneath her familiar quilt, watching him with growing intensity, unable to sleep.

 

The Second Hellwalker kneeled at the foot of the bed, as he always did. However, something was different tonight. He'd positioned himself… closer. His broad shoulders no longer angled away from her. His posture was no longer closed off, not fully at the very least. Whether it was intentional or unconscious, he had steadily shifted in the past nights, as if some sort of magnetic bond between them had begun to pull him in.

 

Zelda’s hand curled around the blanket near her chin, letting out a soft breath as if beginning to brace herself. She watched the way the moonlight traced the edge of his form, the way his jacket caught silver gleams and swallowed them like a black hole. He was unmoving. So much so that he might have been stone but she knew better. She had learned to read his stillness. It wasn’t peace. It was discipline, restraint. Her heart swelled further, not with yearning alone, but with courage. For so long, he had protected her, guided her, taught her to be strong again. Now, it was her turn to reach out. To be brave. “…Cebi?” She whispered, sounding half-asleep.

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer didn’t move, only his head turned slightly to the left, the moonlight catching the edge of his face as his beard brushed itself against his own collar. “Yes, Zelda?” His voice was as deep as ever but there was a softness reserved only for her to it now. “What is it?” That second inquiry had his concern slip out as well since this was unusual. 

 

She hesitated and bit her lip for a moment, her fingers tightening around the blanket as her eyes searched his left one that she could see. “Would you… stay with me tonight?” There, she dropped the question like a bomb. Still nervous, she swallowed the lump in her throat and further clarified. “Not there…. Here… With me.”

 

Georgian didn’t answer her immediately, his head turning away for a moment as he tensed with… uncertainty regarding himself. Then, 0hHe turned fully, his royal blue eyes catching hers in the low light. He said nothing for several heartbeats as if running over the words through the gears of his mind more times than either could count. She could see the battle that had just escalated deep in them, the warring instincts, deeply carved boundaries, and something far more delicate beneath it all. The man she was looking for. Finally, he spoke… “Pri- Zelda...” His tone was… almost uncharacteristically tentative as he rubbed the back of his head. “You… don’t need to ask that of me.”

 

“But I want to…!” She retorted almost instantly, her voice firmer now but not losing its warmth. “I just… I don't know how to explain it… but I need you here… next to me.” It was not weakness or fear… more so… a desire for a comfort that she hoped he'd bring. “Because you’re the one I trust. Because you’ve become… more to me than I ever expected.” Those words came as a confession, even if it was indirect for now.

 

The silence stretched again before his shoulders shifted and he began to move. When he stood, it was slow, uncertain, as if his body was not his own and he was struggling with his own nature. Perhaps it was the opposite, his real self was wrestling back control from his hardened Mercenary side. Like always, his boots made no sound on the wooden floor as he moved around the side of the bed, his words the very opposite of his actions. “I’m not-…” He began, then paused immediately, letting out a burdened exhale. “Zelda, I don’t rest like you do.” Surprisingly or not… he appeared to be quite nervous over the matter, despite trying to refrain from showing that. “I don’t know how to be… what you need.”

 

Zelda met his gaze, her eyes shining with unspoken emotion and her smile reassuring. “You don’t need to know.” She lifted herself to sit, looking at him quite expectantly as she requested kindly… if not with an even more… passionate emotion. “Just be here. With me.”

 

Inevitably, Georgian could not deny her. Part of him really did not want to either. He nodded almost mechanically and slipped off his combat boots. His movements were precise but subdued, every motion soaked in caution, as though afraid that if he moved too quickly, the fragile moment might break. He peeled off his jacket, revealing the white molded combat shirt underneath, the nanofibertech fabric hugging the shape of muscle and muted scars. Then he sat, perched on the edge of the bed, rigid and unmoving, his hands holding on to the side of the matters as if dangling over an infernal chasm within Hell itself. 

 

From behind him, The Silent Princess reached out with both arms and gently took his hand with one of her delicate ones while her other wrapped itself around his right forearm. “Please.” She whispered over his right shoulder. “Lie down.”

 

He inhaled sharply through his nose at that simple request, eyes darting over to her. Then, with a breath that was more surrender than anything else, he eased himself down beside her. The bed creaked faintly beneath the weight of him but it held without any signs of giving out. The Mercenary was laying beside her now, just as she had asked of him. Part of him wondered what her intentions were…

 

There was nothing nefarious regarding them, only a deep and tender desire. Zelda turned into him, her hand resting on his chest, over where his heart was, feeling it beating, deep… and becoming slightly faster underneath her touch. Almost as if responding to her silent invitation, his massive arms slowly lifted and wrapped themselves around her, strong yet incredibly careful. He held her as if afraid she would vanish.

 

“I’m here…” Georgian whispered at last, voice almost inaudible in his beard.

 

The Princess smiled and tucked her head beneath his chin. “And I’m the safest woman in existence...”

 

For the first time since that long, harrowing night when he’d carried her from the darkness of the Basement and broke out of the Cabin, The Mercenary allowed himself to feel… peaceful. She further nestled herself against his chest, his arms carefully around her holding her as close as she wanted. His warm breath was slow and controlled, brushing over the crown of her head. Neither of them spoke for a time and neither slept either. Outside the window, the wind had quieted and only the sound of crickets along with the hoot of owls could be faintly heard. Zelda had her eyes closed, but her mind was still awake, taking in every single second of comfort that she felt in that moment. With every minute that passed, she became more aware of the strength of the… man… Yes, he was no Demon Worse Than Demons, just a man… holding her… Holding her with an impossible gentleness behind all of that Hell razing strength. One of his arms was beneath her back, the other across her waist, and, in his characteristic silence, she found a wordless kind of care. Her breath deepened and her heart steadied in her tentativeness. She pressed her palm lightly against his chest, right over his heart. It was steadier now too, beating much slower than any regular heart… but it was powerful, unyielding. It comforted her more than she could explain. 

 

And then, at last, she whispered, but with no hesitation. “Cebi… I love you.” The words slipped from her lips like a truth long carried within her soul that she now finally set free. There was no fear in them, no tremble. Just certainty. Her voice held the weight of everything she had come to feel in the long, steady months of recovery…

 

A long moment passed where even the world itself seemed to hold its breath until… she felt his arms tighten ever so slightly around her not out of instinct, but out of intent. His breath caught in his throat, a sound that might have been a sigh or a silent admission.

 

“…I love you as well, Zelda.” Came his quiet reply, honest, from the deepest recesses of the remains of his soul. Simple and undeniable, like it was fated to be so.

 

At those fateful words, she smiled against his chest, content and relieved. Her fingers curled gently into the fabric of his shirt, and, as if in response, he shifted just enough to press a reverent kiss to her brow. His lips lingered there for a moment longer than needed, not out of duty, but out of a deep desire that was steadily being kindled. When he pulled away, he settled again wordlessly.

 

After that, The Princess’ breathing softened, and The Mercenary listened to the fading tension in her frame as her body eventually began to surrender to sleep. His eyes remained open for a time, his gaze fixed on the shadows dancing across the wooden ceiling. Thoughts stirred behind in the depths of his mind… memories of all that he had been… regrets over what he had lost and abandoned… Though, now… there was a… hope… one newly awakened by the tender peace he felt in these moments together that she had so graciously given him. Only once he was completely certain that she had drifted into a peaceful, untroubled sleep, he closed his eyes as well. His meditation came easier tonight. Not the cold detachment of the Mantra of The DOOM Slayer that he often sank into to silence the screams in his mind, but something much more peaceful… something closer to real sleep.

 

Tei Slaven ben… arapraetor vul… Priestesa. (The Slayer will… protect you… Princess.)

 

Chapter 11

Morning came with the hush of distant chirping and the herald of the cuckoo's cries. A soft wind drifted through the open window, stirring the petals of a potted silent princess flower where it sat on the desk in the upper area. Outside, the birds of Hateno were only beginning to stretch their wings, their songs tentative at first yet becoming increasingly energetic with every passing moment. Inside the house, all was still quiet. The Princess stirred slowly, drawn back from the depths of sleep with a kind of peace she hadn’t known in decades. As consciousness and awareness of the waking world was coming back to her, she could feel that her body was warm, yet supported not by the bed alone, but by something far more solid. Someone. Still a little groggy, she opened her eyes and her breath caught with surprise… along with something more tender. 

 

All this time, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer was still holding her. His left arm was firmly around her back, the other across her waist. He hadn’t moved, not once throughout the entire night. His posture hadn’t shifted from the way she remembered falling asleep. He was still guarding her, cradling like she was the most precious in all of existence and he was present just like he had promised.

 

She tilted her head back slightly, trying to see him better, careful not to disturb the moment. His ever fierce royal blue eyes were wide open. He was awake, in fact, he had been awake for longer than she had and yet, he hadn’t stirred. Not a word, not a shift in breath that had the slimmest chance of disturbing her. He was just… silent, an unmoving and yet comforting presence. It stood in stark contrast to the feared Demon Worse Than Demons, the infamous Bearer of The DOOM Slayer, the hardened Mercenary that was the Supreme Commander of the Watchdogs. Here he was… just a man who had cradled her through the night with the patience of a statue and the soul of a true knight. For a long moment, she looked into his face, into his eyes and… she saw it, he wasn’t resting, he was… contemplating.

 

His gaze was distant, not unfocused but faraway, as though staring into a landscape that only he could see. There was a note of regret etched on the lines of his brow, barely showing but they stood out to her when she was so close to him. Deep in those royal blue eyes of his… where that burning rage and hatred smoldered… there was… sorrow, a sorrow so profound that he could not keep it from surfacing, despite his most valiant attempts.

 

Zelda didn’t speak just yet as it just… did not feel right. She watched him quietly, reading what she could of his silence and discerning the ever intriguing puzzle that was the depths of his beautiful mind. She'd hoped that this, them being close, would bring him peace, maybe even some happiness but… she was quietly resigned to the notion that peace together was still a faraway fact. Her Romanian Knight still had to come out of his shell when it came to showing his more positive emotions.

 

The Second Hellwalker in question was not unaware. Inevitably, he had felt her stir and he knew she was awake now. Though she did not move in a way to indicate that she wanted him to let go… so he did not move either. Part of him was… reluctant, since he could feel how relaxed she was and that… humbled him. It had been a long time since he had held someone in such a manner... so very long since he felt that his existence had more purpose than just survival, because else all the Realms end with your demise. Eventually, the thoughts that had been quietly devouring his mind forced their way out through lips. “I regret the fact that I left this place…” He muttered in his beard, still staring ahead into nothingness. “I allowed my obsession to rule me…” There was a low growl to these words, anger rising at himself for what he had done to a place he supposedly loved like a home. “I chased him… The Butcher of Realms… across the Realms, thinking that I could prevent suffering when I just caused more of it.” All of these thoughts that had festered in him were boring their way out of him. The dam had burst and there was no stemming it now. “Vladimir Nero Makarov.” The name of his once older brother-in-arms came flatly from him, though there was little that he could do to hide the disdain he felt… and the shame. “From here, I went to a Galaxy far far away, I spent two decades in a war that spanned planets and took countless lives… just to forget what really mattered.” A sharp exhale came from him and he corrected himself with grounding hate at his own nature, clenching his jaw as his grip tightened ever so slightly around her involuntarily yet still protective. “Just to force myself to focus on the mission… That mission almost made me kill you…” There was no understating the level of regret The Final Knight felt as he spoke those last words. He'd believed that he was taking a calculated risk… and that hubris had almost cost him more than he thought he could lose.

 

Zelda blinked slowly as she absorbed all that he was saying. The name was familiar to her as was the weight of the title stuck to it. Their own Hyrule Historia spoke of this husk of a man as a usurper wielding a tainted divine power, the self-proclaimed Cardinal Tsar of Hell. Driven insane because of it, this Mad Usurper God was not to be believed, no matter the words spoken. They had no concrete evidence but the circumstances pointed to him being the one to have issued the Contract. She reached up slowly, her fingers gently resting against his jaw, stroking his beard before gently pulling his face so that he would see her. So that he would feel that he had not failed her. “You came back.” She whispered with an almost bittersweet smile. It wasn't that she blamed him… especially she did remember them being in a time of relative peace and him promising to return…“That is the only thing that matters right now. You kept your promise.”

 

Despite her genuinely reassuring words, Georgian's mind had descended direly, becoming much more emotional when muttering. “When I did, it was to kill you.” He whispered lowly as he gazed at her, that feeling of hate at himself burning as well as… unworthiness. “I had buried all my memories of you…”

 

“I know…” She nodded and her voice did not waver in her conviction. “Yet here I am, alive and… well.” Her smile became sweeter as she still gazed up at him. “You chose me, Georgian, saved me.” It would forever be etched in The Princess’ memories, the way that The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer himself had carried her out and cared for her. The way he still cared for her.

 

A long silence passed before he let out a long exhale, as though some small fragment of the burden he carried had finally loosened. She reassured him. That much was more than clear. His head lowered just enough to rest against hers and she accepted the gesture without hesitation, lowering and placing her hand over his heart again. The silence that followed Zelda’s touch and words should have been enough, they should have soothed him… Unfortunately for the decrepit mind of The Mercenary, the weight of his actions were not was not so easily dislodged by gentleness or grace, even one as warm and inviting as hers. His body remained still around her for a moment longer, so unmoving that he could not just hear, but feel her heart beating steadily against his form. It resonated deep within his core, each systole bashing itself against him… constantly reminding him of what he had nearly done in his downright foolishness. Then, slowly, he exhaled… but not in relief, in resignation at himself.

 

With a motion careful not to disturb her further, he loosened his arms from around her, shifting the weight of his body away from the warmth they had shared. The bed creaked faintly beneath the burden of his movement as he sat up, his gloved hands resting at his sides, curled against the mattress, his back bent slightly under an invisible weight no amount of strength could brace against. He stared down at the floor, his feet planted firmly on the wood, as though preparing to bolt at any moment to escape the suffocating sensation. His hardened expression was faltering as his brows knitted together, trying to keep himself together, to keep from falling into the trap of his own pessimistic nature. What was he even doing here? Did he even deserve this? No, this was not his mission. Selfish. Selfish demon. Worse than all of them. He made her suffer and now he only reaps the rewards,  profiting off her kindness.

 

Almost as if she could hear the darkened thoughts that were consuming him, The Silent Princess rose only a few moments later, pushing herself up with deliberate intent. The blanket slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her waist as she leaned toward him, still in the hush of morning. Her emerald blue eyes held concern, not pity, never that, but the understanding of someone who knew too well what it was to carry pain in silence. “Georgian…?” Came her inquiry in no more than a murmur.

 

“I don’t deserve to be here…” The Final Knight said, his voice rough like the Umbral Plains. There was anger in him… but not at her, never, ever. It was laced with a weary frustration aimed solely at himself. “I disappeared. Vanished from this world like it was nothing.” He seethed through gritted teeth as the image of how he found her started to play over and over in the back of his mind. “You suffered… All that time… while I was chasing my own obsessions across the Realms.” And there was no going back in time to change it.

 

She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, feeling his tension there. Just underneath the nanofibertech layer of his white shirt, beneath the hardened scar tissue, his muscles felt as solid as stone… and yet in this moment, he seemed anything but unbreakable. “You couldn't have known.” She said softly. “You cannot predict everything.”

 

He frowned, deeply so, his hands clenching further, “I should have. I was meant to protect you. I swore—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening, a harsh breath coming through his nostrils.

 

Zelda moved to his side, pulling herself closer now, wrapping both arms around one of his. Her cheek rested lightly on his shoulder as she whispered. “You can protect me now.”

 

That simple sentence silenced him more effectively than anything else could have. Of course The Second Hellwalker would protect her now and for all of eternity, for as long as there were stars in the sky and the Realms burned bright with life. A promise made was a sworn duty. For a long minute, they sat together in the quiet though the slight tension still lingered in the air. He was thinking it all over, his brow still furrowed as he stared at the floor. There was much still eating away at him. “What happened, Zelda?” He asked lowly, sounding more sudden than he intended but he needed to hear it from her. “While I was away… what happened?”

 

There was a very long pause as The Silent Princess swallowed the knot in her throat that had suddenly appeared. While the fact that he posed that question did not surprise her it still hurt to answer. “After you left, things were quiet… for a while.” . Her voice was careful, brittle in places, as she began, recalling what she could and what she had remembered herself over the past weeks. “We believed Hyrule would remain strong. Mother was still prone to sickness but she remained strong. Father… father was a pillar to the people, a beacon. But then… everything changed.” As she spoke, she removed her hands from his, lowering them to her lap. “The Royal Chancellor… Burton Coleburn… he was supposed to aid father, especially after mother passed away.”

 

Something about that made Georgian stiffen, his gaze narrowing in suspicion at that fact. This Chancellor… he wasn't unknown to him but something told him that there was a more nefarious intent behind the man. There was only one interaction that he'd had with the man before leaving Hyrule decades ago… and that had left an almost literal bitter taste in his mouth, the man was slippery and cunning… like a snake.

 

Zelda’s voice was tight with the kind of pain one buried for so long that it was seemingly forgotten… but now was coming back like a tidal wave. “Coleburn, he… found my mother's body when she had passed…” Her tone hitched as she recounted the details, the pain and grief so raw that it felt like it had happened yesterday. “Then he- he claimed to have found evidence, proof, that father had poisoned her!”

 

Rage. 

 

A rage so terrible and vast that there was no quenching it. His royal blue eyes burned even brighter with vengeful hatred towards the Royal Chancellor, knowing full well that it had been all a set-up… and he could already tell why. This was how he had ascended to the throne of the Kingdom of Hyrule and this was why the land was suffering.

 

“It was all a lie…” Zelda said quietly, bitterness cracking her tone as she fought back the angry tears welling up in her eyes. “But lies are easier to believe when they come with certainty. With manufactured evidence. And Coleburn… he played every piece like a master.” Her fingers tightened on the blanket beneath her. “They didn’t even give him a trial… I watched them, the soldiers that were supposed to protect the Royal Family… drag my father from the throne room in chains…” It had all happened so fast and so sudden, the death of her mother and finding the culprit. The people had been vengeful… and the Royal Chancellor had given them the perfect scapegoat. “He was hanged in the middle of Castle Town within the day…”

 

 The Mercenary closed his eyes as he was processing all of this. That endless rage stirred inside him, the vengeful fury of The DOOM Slayer, that hunger to Punish the guilty. He didn't want to imagine what it must have been like for her and it only made his regrets regarding leaving even worse. Unfortunately… there was one more piece to uncover in this decrepit canvas. “What did they do with you?” He asked in a tone so cold, it would have extinguished Hellfire.

 

“I was a child…” The Silent Princess lamented, looking down at her hands. “I was too weak to oppose him… and too naive. One of them told me that they had a ‘special place’ for me.” Her voice trembled now as it was becoming too much to contain. “I followed them… right to the Cabin… They locked me away in that Basement… told the world I’d gone on a pilgrimage in the Emblem Regions to atone for the sins of my family…” Eventually, they spilled, quiet tears rolling down her cheeks. “And no one ever came…”

 

Whatever was left of Georgian's heart clenched and ached, almost instinctively turning towards her. There were no words from him as he felt that no amount of them would ever be soothing enough. As she silently cried, he cupped her face in his massive gloved palms and used his thumbs to wipe her tears. Drawing her gaze up to his, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her brow with the utmost reverence, as a lone knight would to his Goddess. 

 

When he pulled his lips away, she leaned towards him, resting her forehead against his chest and closing her eyes as she let out a long sigh upon . “I endured… because I believed someone would come…” She continued after that pause, her tone steady again and even… smiling ever so slightly. One of her delicate hands reached out, her fingers at his chin as she turned his face towards her glistening emerald blue eyes, meeting the furious royal blue without hesitation. “And… you did.”

 

For a long moment, the world felt still again as they stared at one another, a thousand unspoken words passing through the bond between The Princess with The Blood of the Goddess and The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer. Then he let out a slow breath, reaching up and taking her hand in his, drawing it to his chest where she could feel the steady beat of a massive heart that had refused to stop even when he had been reduced to nothing but his Adamantine skeleton by horrors beyond human comprehension. “You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known, Zelda… Stronger than me, even.” He said with a fond look and almost a small smile.

 

“And you’re not as far gone as you think.” She replied with a knowing look and sweeter smile as their foreheads touched lightly, staying as they were for just a moment longer before the day would start.

Chapter 12

At her request, they had planned to do something different on this day. After breakfast and with the morning sun still tentatively rising over the forests and mountains amidst the white clouds that dotted the otherwise clear blue sky, The Princess was already preparing herself. By the open doorway, she laced her knee-high steel toed boots, before wrapping her brown traveling cloak and hood loosely about her significantly broader shoulders. Her royal blue research tunic fit snugly on her significantly healthier body and she made sure that the golden accents and white waist fit well as well. Her expression was calmer now, but there was still a lingering sadness after remembering what had happened before her imprisonment, a sigh leaving her as she tightened the brown belt with the pouch around her. Her pointed ears twitched more when she felt the approaching presence rather than a sound in particular. 

 

The Final Knight approached, stretching his arms above his head for a moment to allow the fresh outfit to settle better on him. When he let his hands down, he adjusted the colar of his jacket, leaving the upper part of it to hang open before picking up his brown backpack, quickly swinging it on his back and clinching the straps. His eyes met hers watching him as he checked the straps of his gauntlets. “All set… Zelda?” He'd almost called her ‘Princess’ yet again. That habit was stubborn as a mule…

 

“Yes, I do believe that I am prepared.” The Princess nodded, looking quite… proud and confident, especially at how far she'd come.

 

“Good.” He gave an incline of his head before motioning with a hand to step out. “Then let us begin our ascent to Ebon Mountain.” Another option would have been Mount Lanayru to the north… but it did not feel like that would be appropriate not yet at least.

 

They left the village just after sunrise, when the light still cast a golden glow over the land. Necluda had clearly been spared by much of the suffering that was beyond the Dueling Peaks… but, now that they had brought the matter of the Usurper Chancellor back to the forefront of their attention, the peace which surrounded them felt like it was on borrowed time. They did not take a particular path to the top of Ebon Mountain, instead climbing straight up from Zelda's home. They did so in companionable silence, the occasional chirp of distant birds, and the rustle of the breeze through the evergreens made words unnecessary. The air was cool with a promise of later warmth and smelled of pine and soil. The stone was just rough enough to be grabbed and offer the right amount of grip yet not damp to have one's hand slip. 

 

Zelda ascended with purpose, a slight bounce to her motions, as though each pull helped her loosen the knots in her mind. She paused often out of the wonder brought on by the landscape around her, not out of fatigue. She pointed out a blue-winged heron perched high above, the soft white blooms of flowers growing against the mountainside and the way the forests stretched like waves on a sea of verdant green. Her fingerless gloved hands grabbed onto the rocks with increasing certainty the further up they got, her eyes took in everything like a traveler returned after a long exile.

 

Dynamo followed up right beneath her and slightly to the side, once in a while giving her pointers or encouragement when they'd reach a more difficult section. The three point rule was a must, always having three points of support before attempting to go higher. However, much to his inner satisfaction, she was handling herself more than well and she had plenty of energy left to give. That training was paying off and… he couldn't be more proud of her. She deserved it, all the good, she deserved all of it… and he… wanted her to have it.

 

The climb to the summit of Ebon Mountain proceeded at a steady pace, not too fast nor overly slow. They reached the top by afternoon, where a sole cherry tree bloomed over the broken-hearted pond. The Princess recalled that if one desired to break off all connections with someone, they were required to walk the length of it while chanting their name. Of course, that did not apply to her. Her gaze instead turned to Mount Lanayru and its snow covered peak. She couldn't see it, but the Spring of Wisdom was there. One day, she would make a pilgrimage there… but not today. All of Necluda spread out before them, fields rippling in the wind, rivers glinting like silver threads, and the faded silhouettes of distant mountains across the land. They sat beneath the cherry blossom tree to rest for a brief while before they would descend back to the village. 

 

Quietly at first, Zelda stepped up from the edge of the cliffs and into the clearing at the peak, her breath hitching, not from fatigue, but from awe. “Finally…” She murmured with a sigh, already tugging at the laces of her boots. She let them fall to the side and curled her toes into the grass, soft and springy beneath her feet. Then she stretched her arms out and flopped backward into the turf with an exaggerated groan of mock suffering. “Ohhhhhh… that climb was terrible…!” she said dramatically. Her voice was petulant, playful but her face betrayed her. There was a bright, satisfied smile there, unguarded and pure.

 

Dynamo followed behind at a more even pace, crouching to adjust a strap on his belt and pouches. He arched a brow at her display, the subtle grooves of his expression amused beneath his rough exterior. “It was that bad?” He asked, tone deadpan and even skeptical though the corner of his mouth twitched with a knowing edge.

 

“Excuse me, Mercenary!” She replied with a mock pompous huff, lifting her head slightly to glance at him. “You didn’t spend your entire life locked away in a Cabin like I did!” Came her complaint of sorts though it was more than obvious that it was in jest.

 

That almost got a chuckle out of him as he sank down beside her, the weight of his massive frame pressing a neat impression into the grass. “True… and you are excused…” He gave an incline of his head in mock graciousness, playing along with her even if… some thoughts began to invade his mind… “However… I do know what that’s like, not for a lifetime but for a prolonged amount of time. Basement, Catacombs they become just as cold.” His eyes briefly lost focus and it was as if he could still feel the chains around him, holding him underneath one of the most decrepit Citadels within Hell, where souls lost all their hope. “Anyway.” He continued, regaining himself and cutting off his line of thought for her sake. He didn't want it to seem like he was posturing his suffering to make hers invalid in any way. She was more important. “I’d say that was a successful session.” His hand briefly went to his cheek and he rubbed his beard while gazing ahead. “And now… we can sit, and enjoy the view.”

 

Inevitably, The Silent Princess had caught onto those words and it wasn't too much of a stretch to put together the fact that he was so supportive because he'd been through similar… but he didn't have anyone. At least, that is what it seemed like. “My legs huuuuuurt…!” Zelda groaned again, but this time it was theatrical misery, draping an arm across her face but sneakily looking at his back with one eye from underneath it. “Will you sit with me…?”

 

“Yes, of course.” He responded without a moment of hesitation, smoothly lowering himself to lie back beside her, letting out a long breath that he didn't know he held as he clasped his hands over his abdomen. Even he was surprised at how peaceful this felt, no matter how fleeting he knew that it was. 

 

For the longest time after they had finished their ascent, the two simply lay side by side, eyes on the clouds. The sun had begun to dip underneath the Dueling Peaks in the west, casting warm amber hues across the endless sky, the soft shadows of distant birds roaming high above.

 

“Sorry…” Zelda said quietly, after a while, her voice quite sheepish. “I’m such a Princess.”

 

That remark made his ears twitch and The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer turned his head towards her in genuine confusion. “I don’t see how that’s a complaint or detriment when it’s the truth.” He remarked matter-of-factly and with a slight raise of his broad shoulders. “You are a Princess.”

 

She gave a weak laugh, her smile faltering and bittersweet. “But I’m high maintenance.” As she spoke, she lifted herself to sit with her legs underneath her, hands fiddling absent-mindedly in her lap. “Like one of those fluffy kitties in the fancy nobles’ quarters…”

 

Safe to say, he was very much perplexed by that line of thought. “You call this high maintenance?” He asked as he lifted himself to sit cross-legged next to her, forearms loosely rested on his knees. 

 

“Yes!” She exclaimed though her smile remained even with its bittersweetness, looking away from him in embarrassment as she argued. “Well… You’re with me all the time. In all fairness, you’re lucky I don’t ask you to help me with my routine.” Her tone was slightly teasing towards him… but deflecting at the same time.

 

“I appreciate that last one.” He said in slight jest though his tone was entirely sincere. Habit made him rub at his chin again. “But more than that… everything I’ve been doing, I see it as part of your long-term recovery process. Even if…” He exhaled slowly as he looked off into the distance, admitting out of the corner of his mouth. “Even if some circumstances were… unforeseen.”

 

The Silent Princess’ gaze shifting towards the blades of grass beside her, idly placing a fingerless gloved hand among them in the quietness that followed. “Are you referring to… that moment?” Her voice dipped into shyness, but not shame, her smile sweeter and even a slight dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to say yes to… um—”

 

He noticed that she could not quite say it and he, surprisingly, felt somewhat anxious over it as well… though, most importantly, not uncomfortable. The demonic mutant turned to her again, his voice quieter as he asked tentatively. “Spending the night with you?”

 

Her ears colored pink as she averted her gaze, going flat against her head. “Yes…” It was rather adorable as well as so profoundly vulnerable. It was just one simple word, but it hung with a certain emotion that she couldn't quite say it but she felt it. Perhaps even more than just one, hence the name being… elusive. 

 

Georgian was still for a moment as he took it all in. Then, to her surprise, his composure cracked, just slightly. A hint of pink rose beneath his black beard and he cleared his throat as if trying to gove himself time to find his words. “Well… I was surprised when you kissed me on that first night…” He rubbed at the back of his head while muttering under his breath. “I didn’t think you’d just… fall in love like that.”

 

She looked at him again, brows creased in slight confusion but with some intensity as well. “You saved me.” She whispered sharply but with quite the innocent smile, as if that explained everything.

 

A thought crossed The Final Knight's mind… Was he being a hypocrite? Love did not need much reason… if any sometimes. It wasn't something that one could put into words. “I did.” He murmured with a long sigh of relent, not saying a word about his… doubts regarding why she'd fall in love with The Demon Worse Than Demons. Maybe it was that simple, just because he saved and cared for her… though the thought that it wasn’t that special still lingered. “And I’d do it all over again. In a heartbeat.” It was a promise etched in the remains of his heart and soul. Though… he was a tad… tense. Opting to ignore that feeling in his throat, he rose to his feet and stretched his arms and back. “Let’s head back down.”  He offered her his gloved hand, which she took without hesitation even though she was a bit… surprised by the shift in him.

 

“Oh… okay then.” She stood barefoot, brushing loose leaves from her blue tunic before lacing her boots back on. The sun had begun to dip low and their shadows stretched long down the path they had taken up. 

 

Together, they began their descent, which went by much easier and faster than going up. By the time the two of them reached the eastern edge of Hateno, the night had crept in. Stars glimmered shyly through the twilight of the slightly cloudy sky. The village lights were warm and welcoming, flickering through shuttered windows as the people had already retreated for the night. They reached her home just as the wind picked up again, brushing the leaves of the trees like a lullaby. Her lullaby. 

The Mercenary was the one to step off the wooden bridge first, The Silent Princess keeping right at his side, taking comfort in the feel of his hand on her. Neither of them spoke as they stepped onto the stones leading to the front door, the familiar rustle of the tree in front bringing a welcomed comfort. The door opened easily beneath his touch though he paused when he noticed that she had paused in the threshold and looked back once. Her eyes were intense when meeting his, almost literally glowing in the night.

 

“Thank you.” She whispered as she turned to him and placed a hand on his arm.

 

At first, he seemed surprised to hear that, ears perking up before giving an incline of his head. “Of course… Zelda.” Then he stepped inside after her despite the lingering inner tension and rising denial, the door shutting softly behind them.

Chapter 13

The quiet hush of late evening going into night was draping itself over Hateno Village like a velvet shawl, the last rays of sunlight having disappeared underneath the distant mountain ridges and plateaus. Inside the discreet home that stood somewhat separated from the rest within Hateno Village, the unlikely pair of The Mercenary and The Princess was enjoying a quick dinner. At least Zelda was as Dynamo was quietly insistent on keeping watch, leaving her to genuinely wonder when and if he ate. A matter for a slightly later time as her mind was preoccupied with many other matters as well as plagued by tiredness from the day. Still, she was… happy with herself? Was that the right way of putting it? Perhaps… but she needed to prepare more in order to take back what was rightfully hers and avenge the memory of her parents by restoring the rightful rule over the Kingdom of Hyrule. 

 

That was for tomorrow. For now, she pulled her Romanian Knight along and up the stairs, prompting him to sit on the bed with her. She didn't have any ulterior motive, The Damsel Princess merely wanted to enjoy his soothing presence. Like a sanctuary where she could let all of her guards down and be at peace. So, they sat together on the edge of her neatly made bed, both half-turned inward, their foreheads pressed gently together just as she wanted. The air between them shimmered with something unspoken, the weight of what Zelda wanted to say hanging like a physical weight between them.

 

“I… I want to be with you…” She whispered tentatively, her voice almost breaking from the weight of honesty. “Not just for a season… not for a few golden years. I want forever.” There was a pause before she repeated, holding his gloved hands tighter as she nearly pleaded. “I want you, forever.”

 

Georgian did not answer immediately though his royal blue eyes did widen at the sincerity of her request. Part of him almost doubted that she fully understood the ramifications of such a request towards someone like him. Another was… terrified, utterly terrified of being with her and then losing her. It was a notion that was unbearable to him… but even more unbearable was leaving her after these past weeks. As much as his darker thoughts sought to isolate him, her light extinguished them. His gaze softened for a moment as the words settled in his mind and he just… looked at her. Deep within them, that eternal rage and hatred seemed to end be eclipsed by something that was even more potent somehow. He blinked a few times, trying to get himself out of that momentary surprise before something involuntary spread on his bearded expression, a smile. It was small but there, definitely this time. There was no denying it and there was no hiding or restraining it anymore. Even with his innately rugged features, it made him seem younger.

 

She noticed it immediately and her heart skipped a beat as she did not expect it. Well, she would have hoped to see him smile but actually seeing it was… even better than he'd expected. Despite everything he had endured, countless trips to Hell and back, battlefields across Galaxies far away and all over variations of Earth… there were still reasons for him to smile and she was one of them. That smile. It was everything to her, however she wasn't done. “I should have told you sooner.” An uneasy breath left her lips as she averted her gaze in what seemed to be shame. “I just… didn’t want it to change anything.” Her tone quickly dipped into excuses, the words coming faster from her lips. “About how you see me and what we have because I’m not just Hylian and I am not just blessed with the Blood of the Guardian Goddess Hylia. I don't have just my sacred power.” Her voice trembled a bit when looking back up at him, hastily speaking. “I… I have inherited the Light Dragon’s blood too, it runs through me, and- and…” The Princess cut herself off and looked away again. “Because of it, I will not age. I won’t die, not like others do. I’m immortal… like you.” As her words trailed off, she slowly looked back up at him, tentative still since… she knew that this must have been one of his deepest desires… and she was in a position to fulfil it, not to mention willing.

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer seemed to be thoughtful over her words though there was still that small, soft smile on his bearded expression. His thumbs brushed over her knuckles gently as he drew in a deep breath through his nose before letting out. To her surprise, he did not seem all that astonished to hear that… or elated. “I know.” He replied plainly though not unkindly in the slightest. “I knew from the moment we met.”

 

She blinked a few times, brows knitting together. “You… what?”

 

A huff came from him, seemingly amused as he tilted his head to the side with a knowing look. “When you first told me you had dragon’s blood, I knew that you had to be immortal age wise.” He explained simply, wondering how she had forgotten about that… but it did not matter much in the long run. “Dragons already tend to be very long-lived, divine dragons even more so. That tends to hold true in every Realm that I have been to so far, to the point that I might even call it a cosmic constant.”

 

Zelda stared at him, almost incredulous. “I thought… you would be happier…” Came her nervous words, spoken under her breath. It almost pained her to admit that.

 

However, Georgian seemed to be quite understanding. “Zelda…” He began in a somehow gentler tone, taking her hands fully into his and bringing them slightly closer to him. “You should know… that I am happy. I know that I do not show it, but I have been happier than even in these past few weeks.” There was nothing but sincerity and gratitude in his words, in a sense expressing what he had been feeling deep down since that grateful gesture she'd offered him on that first night. “The fact that you want this… to be forever… is incredibly humbling for me.” That was regardless of the fact that he had sworn fealty to her. This was beyond just being her Shadowed Knight.

 

Her breath hitched at that, a soft noise escaping her lips like a crack in the dam of all her tension. Hearing that confirmation was the greatest relief that she could feel. Part of her had inevitably braced herself for refusal, for conflict and resistance… but that was not the case this time. When with him, she felt that peace was… attainable, so she wanted to give it back. She wanted to… love him… and, even though he did not say the words yet, his actions indicated that he wanted to love her in return. “You care for me like no one else outside my family ever did…” She murmured, voice barely above a whisper but a smile like the sun spreading on her lips. “Of course I would want you by my side.”

 

“It's still humbling… for one such as me.” Georgian spoke with significantly less hardness at this point, insisting on that fact as another long breath came from him. “I’ve spent my whole life losing so many… and never forgetting their names and faces…” There was more to it… a deeper ache, because he had not only lost the ones he had loved… but their memories had been used against him… to torture him. “I do not… want much… just reassurance.”

 

She swallowed, reaching up to brush her fingers gently through his short, dark hair. “Reassurance?” She questioned though she quickly comprehended what he meant. “I will always be here.”

 

To that, he had no verbal reply, though he did give a single incline of his head.  There was silence again, but this time it was lighter. They leaned back together, foreheads pressed once more, breaths shared. Neither said another word for a while. There was no need to as both merely drew on this bond that was growing deeper between them. Rays of moonlight cast a dim aura around the both of them, as if encasing them in a protective veil, at least for a brief time.

 

However… something was amiss and The Princess tried to ignore it at first, thinking that it was just her tired mind imagining it. Though the closeness between them remained, their foreheads brushing and fingers gently twined… Zelda could feel something unspoken within The Second Hellwalker lingering just beyond the warmth. It was like the whisper of wind in the back of her head, a tension that refused to fully dissipate, making her pointed ears perk up.

 

Georgian had smiled, yes. He had reassured her and yet… there was something behind those beautiful royal blue eyes of his. Something that still refused to let him be at peace.

 

Perceptive as always, she leaned her head back just slightly, letting her gaze fall upon his scarred and bearded expression. The demonic mutant looked back at her in silent question… this man, because she saw him as a man and not the proclaimed Demon Worse Than Demons, who had fought more wars than any mortals could imagine. There was peace in him noe, yes, but it lived beside a kind of weariness that could not be named. He had accepted her without flinching and for that she loved him all the more… but it was his reaction after that moment that left a quiet ache in her chest. She had hoped, perhaps even foolishly, that the shared nature of their endless lives would lift something heavy from his shoulders in a more visible manner. That the prospect of no longer being alone until the very light of the Realms went dim would bring not just a smile, but a lightness. Unfortunately… while there was happiness in his face and eyes, it was measured… and as she watched the subtle furrow return to his brow, that ache in her deepened.

 

“You’re thinking again.” She murmured gently as she tried to keep a smile on her face, drawing small, absent-minded circles across the back of his hand with her delicate and now steady fingers. “Serious again... Even after all that.”

 

He blinked and looked down at her fingers tracing the Triforce mark on the back of his left hand, his royal blue flitting up to her enchanting emerald blue ones. “Apologies…” He let out a sigh with a wry look, the smile he'd had on having faded. “I do tend to have… a lot on my mind more often than not.” Trying to deflect it, he shrugged with a glance towards nothing. “Side effects of being a Supreme Commander… that's all.”

 

The Princess gave a soft huff through her nose and shifted slightly, pulling one leg up onto the bed to sit cross-legged, still facing him. She gave him an exaggerated squint, putting on a mock expression of deep scrutiny that was completely adorable. “I’m starting to suspect you don’t know how to not think…!” She teased while poking at his chest with her pointer finger a few times. “Do you even know how to relax? I’m beginning to doubt it.”

 

Georgian arched a brow, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly upward. “I have my ways… like swimming.” He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his head as he gave more examples. “Training, riding around, playing the guitar and such…” But his voice, while fond, was still quiet, restrained in how much of anything he would show at any given time. 

 

Now that she was actively looking for it and paying more attention to him, Zelda could see it on The Final Knight, her tiredness long forgotten. The tightness in his shoulders, the faint tension in his jaw, the way his gaze would flick towards the window and the door as if expecting something to burst through them at almost any given moment. He softened when she teased him and he even had smiled, but it never fully reached the place behind his eyes, where The Demon Worse Than Demons lurked. At least that was how it appeared. So, she quite stubbornly tried again, leaning forward with emerald blue eyes glittering full of mischief. “Do I need to do something drastic to distract you?” The Princess asked playfully while tilting her head to the side. “Should I steal your gauntlets? Hide that device of yours?”

 

He let out a breath of amusement but said nothing, only shaking his head with a slight smirk. For a second, it even seemed that his tension grew before staying there, coiled, almost as if he was ready to battle at the drop of a rupee. A crimson pulse behind his royal blue irises. It wasn’t visible to anyone else. Not in the way magic flared or light shimmered, but Zelda felt it, like a sudden pressure drop in the air. A ripple in the emotional plane that connected them. His demonic essence, the fearsome Demon Worse Than Demons… stirred in him.

 

She froze, just slightly, her teasing expression falling away as she saw the slight change in his breathing. The barest tension that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Turning his head away from her, he closed his eyes, almost as if he was hiding it from her and hiding the inner struggle that was always present. Zelda’s throat tightened though not in fear of him… but concern for him. He hated it when he sensed it. Hated being reminded of what churned just beneath the facade of the calm, cold and calculated Mercenary.

 

“I’m sorry.” She said softly, her voice instantly more serious. “I didn’t mean to—”

 

“No, you didn't do anything wrong.” The demonic mutant assured her immediately, glancing back at her as he did. “I enjoy the teasing from you.” That certainty was not the reason why there was a continuous tension in the back of his head. It was just… how he had come to be. That preparedness to rip and tear at a moment's notice was just because… he wanted to always be ready to protect her.

 

Still… that did not bring her any ease, her brows going up in growing concern at what she felt in him. “What is it then…?”

 

He didn’t answer right away, trying to find the right words to… but failing. Instead, he sat straighter, pulling his hands gently from hers and letting them rest on his knees, gaze fixed beyond the wooden railing of the upper bedroom area as he turned his body and leaned over. For a moment, his lips parted for him to say… something, anything… but nothing came out. There was no answer that he could think of that would be satisfying. 

 

“I hate that you hate yourself…” The Forlorn Princess frowned gently, her heart aching as she put it more succinctly than ever. “It is not right.” That was the Goddess honest truth that she believed. “Please don't hate yourself… You're way too precious for that.” It was an innocent plea… perhaps even naive but she had to say it.

 

“It is not just that which keeps me continually tense…” Perhaps it was time for The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer to fully open up to her. After all, it was only fair… he had seen her at her most vulnerable… In a way, he owed her to do the same. A heavy sigh left him as he stood to his feet with seemingly laboured motions, a heavy burden upon his shoulders. “The hate I have… it is endless…” He began while pacing about, feeling her intense gaze on him as he continued. “Ironically, it makes the Slayer in me even more powerful…” Turning on his heel, he looked back at her, his tone a mix of resignation, pain and determination. “I hate myself because… I was not powerful enough… to save those that I had cared about…” Then he leaned back against the drawer, staring at the floor again as he muttered in his beard. “More than once… Too many times.” His tone had darkened slightly, not in menace, but in sorrow. A sorrow so deep it felt like a hole carved through his being… and Zelda understood not just the suffering of his past, but the war he waged every hour within himself. He was immortal, yes, as she was, yet fate had ordained that his would be an eternal fight… his strength a shield and his will a sword. “I know that it is not right.” He confessed while bringing his left hand up on his face, covering the unblemished left side. “But I feel it… Always…. I can’t stop it... I’ve tried anything… and you quiet it. God, you quiet it better than anything I’ve ever known… but it’s still there. The uncaged beast… the unchained predator… It will always be in me and…” His words trailed off as he drew in a sharp breath, his voice almost cracking in its… vulnerability. “I don't want to see you hurt, Zelda…”

 

“You’re supposed to be different…” Slowly, she stood from the bed as well, striding over to The Mercenary. “I thought you'd be the exception… A Demon that loves instead of hates is a very rare thing.” Her tone had hardened ever so slightly but it did not lose an ounce of its compassion as she stopped before him. “Please do not let it encompass you.” Zelda reached out again, slowly this time, cupping his right cheek in her palm. He didn’t pull away as she felt her thumb against the unnaturally red scar tissue across his right eye and down his cheek. “You won’t ever hurt me…” She spoke with firm conviction though still saddened that it had come to this. “I remember you telling me why they call you Demon Worse Than Demons… Those same records of you are within the Historia… I know it’s part of you… but it doesn’t define you, please. You are more than your hate and pain.”

 

He looked at her then, truly looked, and for a moment it was like the world stilled around them. His left hand went over to hers over his as he let out a long breath, a thought crossing him. “Then… you know why I was able to relate to your imprisonment…” It had been one of the most… defining times in his long life… Two entire decades chained underneath the Citadel of Nekrovor within Hell itself, tortured by Hell Priests masquerading as specters of his past significant others and forced to constantly listen to the screams of human souls as they lost all of their hope before being transferred to the soul extraction chamber… “And why I hate it.” 

 

The Forlorn Princess gave a slow nod, her brows still knitted together. “Yes…” Her tone had quieted to a whisper yet she quite adamantly repeated. “Please do not let it be all that you are.”

 

Georgian… seemed thoughtful as he looked at her, his massive hand cradling her comparatively smaller one… yet he could feel how her grip was much firmer on him. “I cannot say that I have…” His bearded expression was marred by a frown. “If I had… I do not think I would have-...” He cut himself off before he could say it, glancing away in… shame at what he was going to say.

 

She knew, of course she did. She wasn't the Goddess-Blooded Princess for nothing, that blessing of Wisdom meant something. “Everything is fine…” She assured, hoping to keep his mind from descending down into darkness… Zelda leaned forward then, resting her forehead against his chest lightly and even gentler than before. 

 

They stood as they were in the dark, the moonlight flickering through clouds in rays of dimming silver right next to them, as if offering a bridge between where they were and the inviting comfort of the bed. The tender closeness they had shared on it just moments ago had shifted into something uncertain. The Forlorn Princess remained where she was, standing before him, holding his hand firmly with her regained strength, her eyes closed as her forehead was resting against his muscular chest. They snapped open when she felt him shift, lifting her gaze to see him move and slip right out of her grasp…

 

Georgian's movements were deliberate, slow, as though every limb carried the weight of the Realms themselves. He turned from her without another word, walked over to the side of the room, and leaned heavily against the wall near the stairs. Then, he quietly descended, almost as if he was controlled by some outside force and grabbed one of the wooden chairs and dragged it out from underneath the table. The wooden legs scraped softly against the wooden floor, his ears hearing her soft footsteps following him... inwardly knowing that all that he was doing was making her more worried. He turned it and sat, leaning forward, elbows on the back of the chair, one arm over the other. The light of the one lit lantern cast shadows across his face, cutting along the hard lines of jaw and cheek, revealing more agony than fury now. “Fine… fine…” He repeated that one word as if trying to convince himself of that fact. “It… isn't… The rage never leaves… The hate… it is endless.”

 

Zelda’s heart clenched at the finality in his tone. Her bare feet made no sound against the wood as she let a hand fall on the table, stepping closer tentatively, the noise of the fabric of her nightgown against the floor being the only noise heart. It was… a somewhat familiar scene between the two of them… except, this time, the positions were reversed.  “No.” She said in no more than a whisper yet firm and benevolent. “That’s not true. You've convinced yourself that it is… yet something else in you, Georgian.” Her eyes shone with that conviction… and sorrow that he was putting himself through it. “Every day, I feel something else in you…” Her steps stopped right in front of him, her right hand moving from the table to one of the arms propped on the back of the chair. “And I know you… I know you hate yourself for what you carry…” Then her right hand traced the edge right forearm before resting on his gauntlet, close to the distinct scar across his eye. “Don’t…” She pleaded again, her voice breaking slightly as she couldn't stand this abhorrent wall that he was putting around himself. “Don’t hate yourself.” 

 

However… The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer said nothing. There was no real reaction from him. Even his breathing seemed to have gone unnaturally still, as if he was more of an Adamantine golem than a man. It was unclear whether he was listening or not… but he was, despite wallowing in his own pit of despair. A far cry from the hardened and composed Soldier that he usually was…

 

“You say your hate is endless.” Zelda’s words were tentative but unyielding as she slid her hand between his forearm and face to cup his bearded cheek. “I know you carry it like a shield… The Slayer protects you… that deepest part of you… The Cebi I know… and, even so, you let me in.” The emphasis on that one word lingered. Her. The Princess of Hyrule. What was so special about her that she had such a privilege? It was a question that only he could answer and one that she was quite determined to make him answer in some way, shape or form. 

 

Still, he didn’t lift his head even when feeling her comforting, delicate touch against the hairs of his beard. His royal blue gaze burned into the floor, distant and unblinking, but there was pain in the way the fingers of his left hand flexed slightly, his whole fist trembling for a moment before relaxing again.

 

Zelda stepped even closer and lowered herself before him, her mere presence demanding his gaze. “Please.” She whispered, still benevolently firm in her worry. “Tell me you don’t truly believe that this hate has to rule you forever.”

 

Finally, the demonic mutant seemed to stir in some way. His shoulders rose as he drew in a very deep breath through his nose, letting out one that was four times as long. He'd.. tried to regain himself with that but was not quite successful… At least there was comfort to be found in the emerald blue eyes that were staring at him… even if he… hated himself for making her worry so. They were going around in circles with this and he hated that as well. Everything, everything that he was doing made his ire towards his own being rise. “I told you already… it makes me more powerful, it drives me.” A notion that was not entirely untrue… but it sounded more like an excuse in this instance. An excuse for him to remain in the familiarity of misery, a twisted comfort. 

 

“I know that you are more than what they call you.” Quite stubbornly, The Goddess-Blooded Princess insisted on her point, bringing up her other hand to his face and letting the shawl around her shoulders fall to the floor without a second thought. “The Demon Worse Than Demons is for them. For the denizens of the Dark World and the wicked of the Realms. You are not that for me and for all the good people, for those who look up to you as their leader.” Even though her tone did not rise, it had become sharper with each word, stroking his cheeks all the while. “They may curse you… warn others of you… but they are wrong, because they only see one piece of the truth.”

 

Even though he leaned his head into his hands and quietly accepted that comfort from her, Georgian was still forlorn. “They only see what I let them see… and they only have need for The DOOM Slayer… or The Supreme Commander.” There was an implication to his words… that he, as a person, was not important, not anymore. “Do you know why they call me Demon Worse  Than Demons?” His voice was softer now… but it carried an almost menacing undertone. “Because no demon from Hell itself could stand up to me when they tried to invade the Realm of Fallout. Because I tore through the Umbral Plains when their torturing made me too powerful to be contained and I alone killed one of their Gods… one of the Aranea Imperatrix…”

 

Zelda drew in a breath and firmed up even more, looking quite… regal even, like a Queen attending to one of her closest subjects. Indeed, she had heard and read the stories about what he had done across the long history of Hyrule, but those tales never called him ‘Demon Worse Than Demons’. Even though what he had just described matched perfectly with those other actions… for her… he was not that and the more he said he was, the more she was determined to deny that very motion. “Yes, I know.” Her tone rose slightly as she leaned her face closer to his, demanding his attention even more. There was no more hiding from her. “I’ve read them. I’ve heard them. However, you are more than any of your titles… and you are a man, you are human. As long as you are here, with me… those titles don't matter, don't define you.” Her words sounded like a decree set in stone. “Because you've shown me anything but those, Cebi.”

 

His jaw tightened in growing denial, but he didn’t find it in himself to interrupt her… because she was right. Again. She was absolutely right…

 

“You didn’t come back into my life as the demon they feared.” The Princess with The Blood of the Goddess continued, her voice rising with passion and a smile starting to spread on her lips. “You came as the man who carried me from the prison of that cursed Cabin. The man who listened to my every need. Who cared when I was too weak to walk on my own. Who stood beside me and helped me regain myself.” There were almost tears in her eyes as she thought back to how far she'd come in an admittedly short amount of time, only a few weeks. “And if you say that the rage and hate in you is endless... then believe that my love for you is just the same.”

 

That cracked something in him before a piece snapped into place. His grim expression faltered with a look of shock and… realisation. Of course it was endless. The Final Knight should have expected her boundless compassion to extend to him but, for some reason… he discounted himself. That… shamed him and, as his eyes finally flickered up to hers, the tight line of his lips broke just slightly. “I don’t deserve you…” He whispered almost brokenly, so low that even he barely heard.  

 

“Yes, you do.” Zelda replied gently, drawing up his face as she straightened, one of her hands moving to delicately comb his short black hair. “You earned me the moment you broke through the Cabin's door… and helped me bathe in the pond.”

 

Letting himself sit on the chair a little straighter, his arms fell from the back of the chair before coming back up. His gloved hands were… hesitant, ghosting along her waist before resting lightly on her sides. 

 

The Princess leaned in, forehead resting against his again, just as they had done earlier, only this time she was the one watching over her Knight. “I don’t want you to be perfect, Georgian…” She whispered as she closed her eyes. “I don’t need the rage to disappear… but I do need you. All of you. Not hiding from me. Not carrying this burden alone.” It was a simple request, but a sincere one. She wanted eternity with him… but that also meant knowing more about the man she'd fallen for.

 

All of him. All of The Mercenary. All that he held inside. She needed it… yet… she also had not been exposed to all of it… yet. Now… it was time. As Zelda's hands remained on either side of The Second Hellwalker's face with their foreheads gently pressed together, there was something in the silence around them… a shift. It was subtle at first, barely more than a stilling of breath, a slight tensing of his large frame, yet The Princess felt it instantly. Like the quieting of the waters just before the coming of a massive tsunami. 

 

He pulled back slowly, just enough to look her in the eyes, removing his hands from her figure and leaving them to hang at his sides. His face was unreadable, if not still slightly sorrowful… and beneath that, deep in him, that signature rage and hate stirred in his eyes. “You’ve never seen him…” When he finally spoke, his voice was low and hollow. “The DOOM Slayer.”

 

Zelda blinked in shock. “I don’t need to!” She answered at once, her hands tightening reflexively at his jaw. “That doesn’t matter—”

 

“It does.” He interrupted gently, his tone not rising but hardening. “You’ve never seen it. What I become. What I am. Even before you were imprisoned, I never let you witness it. I kept it from you.” There was no malice in his voice, no anger, nothing but resignation. He extracted himself from her delicate hands as he stood to his feet, continuing as he stepped away from her. “I kept it buried, Zelda, because I didn’t want you to see that thing... yet you say you need all of me.” His eyes flickered with the first crack of something deeper, a crimson, demonic shine deep in his pupils. “So I will show you what you say you accept... Even if you hate me for it.”

 

“No.” The Goddess-Blooded Princess shook her head, frozen on the stop and with her hands still in mid-air, rushing to assure him. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t have to prove anything—!”

 

“I do.” He cut her off again but his tone, his whole demeanour was… apologetic. “I’m sorry.” That was when he closed his eyes and began to chant. “Tei Slaven ben kar en tuk…” (The Slayer will rip and tear…) So it began… the Mantra of The DOOM Slayer that would make him focus and bring out that which lurked within. Already, there was a faint red glow emanating from his body, the pressure of the atmosphere suddenly doubling.

 

“No—no, Georgian, stop!” Zelda cried out, stepping forward in a panic. Frantically, she surged to him, clamping a trembling hand over his mouth, desperate to silence him. Her other hand gripped his shoulder tightly but it was too late…

 

The chant didn’t stop… because it no longer needed to be spoken aloud. Rip and tear Hell and Heaven… Rip and tear until the death. His royal blue eyes shot open and they flared with a crimson blaze, brighter and deeper than ever before. The room darkened immediately as though every gram of light had been devoured by his menacing presence. Shadows lengthened and twisted as the very air vibrated with an unnatural hum that would have made even the bravest and fiercest of beings flinch while sending any lesser ones cowering to the blackest pits beyond imagination.  The moment she pulled her hand away in disbelief, the full transformation began. 

 

A searing heat rolled from his body as the crimson aura fully burst forth, coming off him in undulating and constant waves. His teeth gritted as his predatory canines became more pronounced, muscles bulging underneath his outfit as he tensed under the release of this inner pressure. The sclera was invaded by that same crimson rage, burning with the hate that he had spoken off, almost fully drowning out his royal blue irises. Teeth still bared, his fists clenched as he towered to his full two meters height, breaths controlled like a predator ready to strike until it was done. His entire being was coiled, the uncaged beast prepared to rip and tear.

 

The DOOM Slayer had risen… and he was standing right before The Princess. 

Chapter 14

It wasn't not the sight that had made Zelda stagger back, but the gesture. Her breath came in shallow, uneven pulls. The sight was too much and it… infuriated her. Her hands trembled at her sides, her voice barely a whisper. “No… no, this isn’t you…”

 

He didn’t speak, not yet. He stood just there, towering, silent, and unmoving. He was fear, he was nightmare, he was death incarnate.

 

“No!” Zelda yelled in full denial, striding forward now in tears. Her hands were small and pale against the infernal armor, but they began to beat against his chest with growing indignation…“This is not you! This is not the man who held me when I cried! This is not the man who carries the hopes of the Realms on his back. You are more than this demon of agony!”

 

Even with that staunch declaration… The DOOM Slayer did not raise a hand nor did he move. He didn’t react to her fists pounding against him, he didn’t move when her voice cracked into sobs, he didn’t respond to the shivering desperation in her touch.

 

“I love you!” She cried, pressing her forehead to his chest, tears freely streaking down her cheeks. “But I don’t love this. I didn’t fall in love with a demon. I fell in love with you!” She reiterated while striking at his chest again, close to begging him to give something, anything, any sort of reaction other than this Goddess-forsaken silence…

 

Still, no words came. The towering figure only looked down at her with the same haunting stillness. His demonic power radiated off him in waves but it was colder for the absence of his voice, colder for the silence she had never feared before. There was no way in the Ghostly Ether or the Dark World that she would fear him now…

 

“I know you’re still in there, Cebi.” The Silent Princess whispered through clenched teeth, lifting her head to look right into his crimson royal blue eyes. “And I’m not leaving until you come back.” Her fists slowed but her resolve didn’t falter slightest as she lowered her forehead to his chest again. If anything, she was even more stubborn than her father so she was not giving up until she would have her desired outcome.

 

Then… something changed. It was faint but her ears twitched immediately, curving upwards with a flicker of hope. Had her voice reached him? Had she broken through to her Cebi? Or… maybe, he had been listening this whole time…

 

Slowly, The DOOM Slayer’s hand rose, not to strike, never that… but to touch her cheek. His gloved hand was innately warm and… surprisingly gentle, even trembling.

 

Feeling his touch, that undeniable familiar comfort, it had The Princess letting out a soft breath, her eyes fluttering closed at the contact, her tears still fresh, but her heart no longer shattering thankfully. “Cebi…?” She murmured the question tentatively while looking up at him, searching his eyes.

 

The Slayer’s grip on her face didn’t tighten. His fingers lingered… uncertain, almost afraid. Then… he spoke, a voice so deep and raw that it was capable of sending demons fleeing to the darkest pits when hearing his roar. “Vul trebar avuld atcea den man…” (You must hear this from me.) Argenta… it came natural to him in this state, like a native language. 

 

Hearing those words and being able to comprehend them thanks to having the Blessing of Nayru's Wisdom, Zelda’s frown deepened as she looked up at him, defiance glinting in her gaze even through the wet shimmer of tears. Her small hands pressed against the warmth of his chest, curling into fists. She stood her ground, her voice low but laced with firm disbelief. “Why this?” She demanded through gritted teeth. “Why do you have to speak to me like this? In this form?”

 

On the outside at the very least, The DOOM Slayer stood unflinching and unbending. However, his hand on her face still had a small yet distinguishable tremour. For all of the palpable fury that was coming off his being… his expression was not one of anger. It was solemn and even grave… yet, at the same time, determined to see this through… and with that familiar conviction and devotion that she had come to… cherish. “Phentera ri arnewoye sar wyno den Tei Slaven.” (Because it needs to come from The Slayer.) His demonic voice reverberated through the air of the room and deep within the core of her being… However, not once did he notice her shy away or show a hint of fear. “Richi den tei urnul cyne akund atcea phartre den vul sar tiste vul lu rardare.” (Not from the one who hides this side from you to keep you at peace.) There was a slight raise of his tone… the anger boiling towards himself… though there was comfort in how liberating it was to show this.

 

The Goddess-Blooded Princess shook her head slightly, her brows knitting together. “I don’t understand…” She whispered in confusion since that was certainly not how she saw this. “What could possibly—?”

 

However she never finished the question. Before she could even draw her next breath, he stepped bridged the gap between them, not with menace, but with the slow deliberateness of a mere man approaching a Goddess. She stiffened at this, slightly uncertain as she watched him with wide emerald blue eyes.

 

Then, The DOOM Slayer reached out… and did something that she did not expect. His hand moved and his arm came  to rest around her shoulders, pulling her gently forward. His other arm encircled her waist with shocking tenderness, careful even with the weight of his strength. She didn’t resist, frankly she couldn’t bring herself to resist as she was drawn against his chest, her breath stolen not from fear, but sheer disbelief.

 

He embraced her. It was warm, the way his body cradled her as if she were the most sacred being all of the Realms. “Man uldire vul.” (I love you.) His voice was low and gravely, downright demonic… but his words, his sentiments, were sincere. “Man ben meran uldire vul.  Neer mathery ke man'e.  Neer mathery ke man diaviron. Man ben meran arapraetor vul, Zelda.” (I will always love you. No matter what I am. No matter what I become. I will always protect you, Zelda.)

 

For a very long moment, The Silent Princess stood there, utterly frozen, her breathing catching in her throat. The DOOM Slayer’s declaration hadn’t simply pierced through her very being, it had shattered something inside her. Not in pain… but in awe. She could feel it. Not just the words, but the truth that came with them. The purity of his intentions, buried deep within this Hellwalker who had strode upon the Umbral Plains with one goal in mind, to punish the guilty, all those who had wronged him, to redeem himself from his greatest failure… and, yet, he was still capable of such raw, unwavering devotion. It shook her… but it also comforted her. With great emotion coursing through her veins, her fingers trembled where they clutched at his arms. Her lips parted, but the words caught in her throat and no sound emerged. She didn’t know what to say, how to say it, how to meet something so powerful with anything less than her whole soul. At last, when her voice returned to her, it came in a whisper… 

 

“I love you too, Cebi.” The words slipped from her lips without hesitation and with great warmth. She rose onto her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her head tucked beneath his chin, cheek pressed against his chest as she felt his embrace tighten ever so slightly, drawing her fully into him as though he feared she might vanish. She could hear the faint, almost imperceptible sound of his breathing, slow, deep and measured. Not the haggard pant of fury, nor the sound of battle. Right with it, she could hear his heartbeat, faster than usual and almost… nervous. In an odd way, she found that quite… cute. “I love all of you.” She murmured with a bright smile breaking over her countenance. “Even this part. I don’t care if the Realms fear you. I don’t care if legends call you a demon. You are more than that to me…” Came her staunch declaration, even though her voice did not rise. “You’re mine… and I will never leave you.”

 

At first, The DOOM Slayer said nothing, though his arms tightened around her once more. Protective, gentle, a stark contrast to how savage he would have been even in this base Berserker state of his demonic side. Frankly… he did not need to say anything, he just needed her and that promise… was enough to set the dregs of his soul at peace, to ease at least some of his fears. He was hers… as she was his. They did belong together… Maybe, just maybe… this was fate. Gradually, the crimson glow of his form began to dim, the red rage in his sclera starting to fade away as he closed his eyes with a deep, calming, even content breath out. Steadily, he fell out of his demonic form… but the… man… the demonic mutant … that was embracing… was now trembling. Anxious yet grateful, a whole host of emotions that he could not hold back were coursing through him now that the rage holding them at bay was gone. Georgian opened his eyes, pure royal blue gazing upon her laying her head against his chest with both trust and tenderness. It was… humbling…

 

The Princess quite quickly had her gaze met his, her head still against his being and that bright smile still etched on her lips. “There you are.” She whispered fondly, her emerald blue eyes glittering ever so slightly. He was… so very warm… “My Knight in Shadows…”

 

Those words made the corners of his mouth quirk upwards slightly, yet visibly. “I never left.” He answered in a voice just as low… as it was cemented within the both of them. “I could… never… again.” As the warmth of the moment settled him, he merely relished in the feeling brought by holding her close. Was it indulgent? Yes… it absolutely was. He stared at her, watching her hands come down to hold his face, feeling her thumbs caressing through the hairs of his beard. Georgian stood still, his breathing slowing as he stared at her… absolutely gorgeous countenance,  framed by her hands. Compared to his massive, paddle-like ones… they were small, soft, and even delicate.. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to simply feel her, letting out a long breath, just… living in that one moment. Then, as though a dam had cracked somewhere deep in the recesses of his fractured memory, it all began to return. His breath caught in his throat as he stepped back from her suddenly, looking dazed as his hand searched behind him for the chair, thankfully finding it quickly enough to sit. “I remember…” He murmured with a growing look of shock, the images flashing before his eyes as he covered part of his face with a hand.

 

Quickly following his steps, Zelda leaned closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from his face, concern flickering in her eyes. “Remember what?” Despite asking that… she knew what he meant and it made her heart leap.

 

His eyes opened slowly and there was something new in them now. A recognition that was beyond words, lowering his hand and resting it on his leg as she met her gaze again. “You.” Came his initially brief and even simple reply before he drew in another breath to centre himself. “All of it... I remember everything from the time before I left for the Galaxy Far Far Away…” His voice shook slightly as he glanced away. “I remember when you were just a child.” His voice grew heavy as all this did was bring back his regrets, rushing over him in full force. The fact that he had grown to love her only made his sorrow worse. “When I arrived in Hyrule for the first time in this Era… after more than ten thousand years over here. When the rightful Royal Family, your parents, still ruled.”

 

The Silent Princess’ breath hitched for a second as she searched his face with wide, uncertain eyes. “Your memories all came back?” In all fairness, it did not really matter how that happened now. By his own admission… he could have buried all of them… and this rekindling of the bond between them and taking it further… unlocked those memories.

 

Dynamo nodded slowly though he kept his eyes averted, watching the floor emptily,  the way the shadows of the night lengthened and mingled with the moonlight. “I came following a potential outside disruption… Someone of great power from another Realm, coming into this one. Like always… my first order of business was to establish contact with the Royal Family… Let them know that The Supreme Commander himself has returned. We've been allies since even before Hyrule was established so it was only natural.” There was a pause as he leaned back heavily into his chair, rubbing his beard and doing his best to keep his tone even. “I met with your Father… His Highness was quite receptive and I was pleased with how well we communicated… even if the fact that I did not kneel to him was… curious.” It was merely a personal principle since he was very young. The Final Knight had only ever kneeled to a very restricted circle of people. “Then I met with your mother… Her Grace was remarkable as I would expect and yet somehow beyond that. Strong, sharp and kind… with a compassion that few could even hope to match. I kneeled before her and she had me rise before I could say my full name, let alone all the titles stuck to me.” He couldn’t help the slight upturn of his lips at the memories, they were pleasant… but there was a growing bittersweet note to them… especially when glancing back at Zelda. “Then there was you… You tried to hide behind your mother's dress when I first came… She had to coax you out… Then, when you heard my name, it sent your mind spinning… So you gave me that nickname.” There were almost tears in his eyes because he could not help but see her how she was back then… and how he had found her in this present time. “You were a whirlwind tearing through the castle… both you and the son of the Royal Guard Captain. Not a day went by without you trying to sneak into the training yard or interrogate the guards. You were... radiant… full of life...”

 

Zelda’s lips parted, her heart thudding in her chest as the memories flickered within her too. Faint, childish recollections. A tall man with a calm voice. A warrior who always made time for her, even when others were too busy. A guardian draped in shadow who treated her like she mattered. He had been like a brother both to her and the Captain's son. “Yes… you were him, Cebi…” She whispered with a bittersweet smile of her own. “I always wondered… You disappeared with little warning… When you said ‘goodbye’ on that day.”

 

“I had to leave...” Georgian muttered, the burden in his voice returning as he could see the exact scene play out in his head. He'd lowered himself to her level… told the little Princess that he would be gone for some time… and then just left… Not planning to return any time soon. “The Watchdogs had informed me of a great threat rising. It wasn’t supposed to be long… though that is what they always say about war.” Any hint of a smile was gone as he lowered head in his hands. “It dragged on for around two decades… if not more. I lost myself in battles that went from planet to planet, from Core Worlds to the Outer Rim and even beyond… into the Unknown Regions.” Part of him… did regret it, even though another did know that had he not been present, the casualties for those who served the Light Side would have been far greater… even catastrophic and yet… he had not achieved his goal. He had not found his lost brother. “When I came back to this Realm… dragged back by the Contract…” He looked at the floor, closing his eyes as guilt rippled across his hardened features. “I ignored it… I ignored everything… Everything that I might have cared for…” And yet he had the gall to consider Hyrule like a home to him, the wretched Demon Worse Than Demons.

 

The Silent Princess gently cupped his hands between her own, her touch grounding him, her voice unwavering in her conviction. “You came back.” Was all she said at first, her words soft as she drew his gaze to her compassionate one. “And you found me. That’s what matters.” When he looked into her eyes, she saw the boy he had been before the rage, before the sorrow, before the blood, dust and gust. Innocent, yet stalwart. Playful, yet devoted. The one she called ‘Cebi’. The one that only she could really see.

 

His expression became strained, gritting his teeth as he spoke. “I promised your mother…” That bitterness at himself grew though he wasn't angry this time… just… saddened. “I promised Her Grace that I would watch over you. That I would always protect you…” But he didn't. “I failed.”

 

With empathy beyond bounds, Zelda shook her head, firm but gentle. “No.” She said immediately and there was a very good reason. “You didn’t. You didn’t fail me. What happened, what they did, it wasn’t your fault.” It was something that he had to accept, because she would never blame him for the nefarious choices of others. “Not then. Not now.”

 

However, The Final Knight just couldn't, becoming more distressed. “I wasn’t there—”

 

“And I don’t blame you!” She cut him off, raising her voice for a moment and making him flinch… but only so she could speak her mind fully on this. Still compassionate, she took his gloved hands in hers and pressed them against her heart. “And you need to stop blaming yourself. You still carry every death on your shoulders… but you forget that you also saved me. You found me in that basement. You brought me back and I won’t let you punish yourself for what you couldn’t control.”That was the crux of the matter… “You can't control everything, Georgian… You can't predict everything either.”

 

Ironically, that latter one was exactly what he had trained his mind to do as a Supreme Commander. To look at each and every possibility, no matter how improbable, to be prepared for the unexpected and face it… However, at the end of the day… he was just a man. His jaw clenched, emotion coiling within him like never before, letting out an exhale that made his shoulders sag. He turned his head to the side, feeling the comforting pull of her arms around his head and shoulders. breath slightly ragged but steady.

 

Zelda cradled him, threading her fingers through his soft black hair, whispering gently as she curled herself slightly over him. “I need you here, Georgian.” She… enjoyed this, comforting him. It felt good… and she loved giving back to the man that that given her so much already. “Not as a soldier. Not as a mercenary. Not even as a knight. Just as you. The man who told my mother he would protect me. The man who came back.”

 

They stayed like that for some time, enough for it to become midnight. The sole candlelight flickered low in the room, casting dim, soft gold across the walls. The distress felt by The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer had been soothed by The Silent Princess, her presence alone easing his guilt. It would still take time for him to fully loosen the shackles… but, at least for now, when he drew back to look at her again, there was a small smile on his expression, one that wasn't haunted. It was tired, yes… but sincere. “You know that I will stay, Zelda…” He replied, voice rough with lingering emotion. “I made a promise… I swore fealty to you… A promise made is a sworn duty.” There were countless reasons for which he would stay, but one stood above all others. Even though he could not quite say the faithful words yet, his actions spoke clearly. 

 

Grateful for his devotion, she pulled away only slightly, her hands trailing his arms until taking his gloved ones again. “Come.” She beckoned him gently while starting to walk backwards towards the stairs.

 

Without needing to ask where, he followed, letting her lead him.

Chapter 15

They ascended the stairs side by side, the boards creaking faintly under The Mercenary's heavier step. Above, the lofted bedroom welcomed them with its low ceiling and the moonlight gently streaming through the opened window. Heading right for the bed that seemingly was waiting for her, The Princess climbed in slowly, the blanket falling back to reveal the warm folds of the quilt he had tucked around her each night since their return. As she settled into the bed, she turned to look at him looming over. “You’re not joining me?” She asked with slight disappointment, her brows turning upwards as her pointed ears drooped slightly. 

 

He stood at the side of the bed for a moment, looking down at her with an expression that wavered between guilt and reverence. “Not… tonight.” He said with a slight grimace, reaching to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve comforted me enough… I should keep watch.” It was an… excuse, one that he hated making but he didn't want to seem like he was using her to soothe himself.

 

She tilted her head faintly, looking at him with concern again. “There’s nothing threatening us here.” If anything, she was the safest woman in all of the Realms.

 

“I know.” He looked away, a flicker of melancholy passing through his eyes before rubbing the back of his head. “But it helps me focus. Ground myself especially after letting The Slayer out. My body may rest eventually, but my mind… it’s better if I sit. Breathe. It helps to prevent Maddened Savagery…” That was the last thing he wanted her to have to deal with… which was why he was being extra cautious to prevent that most dangerous and volatile state of his.

 

“Still…” She murmured, taking his lingering hand in hers as her voice grew heavier with sleep. “It was nice… having you close...” Her breathing began to slow and her eyes fluttered shut, her expression becoming more peaceful. “I saw you. That’s what matters…” The words were spoken so quietly that the only reason he had heard them was the fact that it was so keen.

 

He leaned closer, his lips right up against her ear and his breath warm. “Sleep well, Zelda.” Then he stepped to the foot of her bed and kneeled like usual, his back straight, hands resting on his knees in a practiced meditation posture. He didn’t close his eyes immediately. Instead, he looked at her over his shoulder almost longingly… That was the first time she had seen him, all of him, even the parts that had lost their humanity… Though… even being human was a flexible concept. The Second Hellwalker lowered his head slightly, shadows playing across the ridges of his back and the silent churn of guilt in the back of his mind. He’d fought monsters across Realms, shattered Gods of Hell and Icons of Sin, defied angelic beings that sought to sacrifice others for their benefit… yet nothing had ever undone his every wall like the warmth of her words. Her unwavering truth. 

 

Finally, after drawing in a deep breath, his mind settled into the usual rhythm of chanting the Mantra of The DOOM Slayer. His usual instincts were becoming prevalent again, eating away the grief and sorrow. At this moment… she was safe… and he would make sure that would remain so.

 

The Slayer would rip and tear any who would dare threaten her.

 

Come next morning, the first light of dawn broke gently through the windows of the secluded Hateno home, accompanied by the sound of cuckoos and birds chirping amongst the canopy of the nearby woods. The sun had not yet risen in full from the ocean, but its long rays already painted the sky in hues from violet into orange. The chill of the night lingered, accompanied by currents rushing down from Ebon Mountain. It was the kind of cold that would awaken one, refresh them and fill them with energy to face the heat of the coming day.

 

The Princess stirred beneath the quilt, sandy golden strands of hair tumbling across her face as her emerald blue eyes slowly opened to the increasing luminosity. Looking towards the foot of the bed, her protector was not there… but part of her had come to expect that. Still, she took comfort in the fact that she could feel his presence near, that unique mix of divine and demonic which resided within him. He was just down the stairs and, judging by the smell, breakfast was all set for her… just like every morning, Still in her simple night clothes she rose to sit on the side, briefly adjusting her light blue shirt before placing her feet down. The cold floor greeted her soles like an old friend. Not bothering with a cloak as she stood, she found that some part of her liked the vulnerability of mornings like this… Barefoot, quiet, human… even if it was fleeting, at least she knew it would always return in some way.

 

Descending the stairs, her fingers grazed the strong dark oak banister as she went and she could already smell it. The familiar, grounding scent of roasted vegetables from one of his many MRE packs, seasoned with some Hyrulean herbs and greens, and the unmistakable warmth of the chamomile tea that she was oh so very fond of.

 

When she reached the main room, there he was.

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer stood in profile, his massive frame subdued as if he was clinging to the fading shadows around him. His backpack was on the table, the main compartment half opened. For all intents and purposes, he was fully equipped, gauntlets over his jacket and its collar framing his face. It was rather obvious that part of him was still slightly tense from the day before, almost as if that meditation had not fully calmed him and the rage of The DOOM Slayer inside still kept him on edge. He moved with calculated precision, having already set the table. Just one plate placed on the side along with the mug of the tea that was her favourite. His concentration was on wiping down and cleaning up, extinguishing the espit stove and closing the bag before placing it back in his pack for safekeeping. Everything in his movements was careful. Mechanical.

 

However, it wasn’t the breakfast that held her attention. It was him and his silence. 

 

While she did not see it as him ignoring her, she could tell that the air felt heavier with the mix of emotions in him. It was as  if a curtain had fallen over their sweeter and more vulnerable moments, that wall of his that she tore through attempting to build itself back up. That was unacceptable, so she crossed the room wordlessly, coming at him from a perceived blind spot… but he had sensed her, of course he did and he had also heard her… yet he pretended not to notice. She could see it in the slope of his shoulders, the way they held tension like rocks on a mountainside, as though the ridges were pressing down upon him and he was buried within an infernal chasm. Without hesitation, Zelda stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Like always, her embrace was gentle. No fanfare, no declaration, just warmth and her breath on the back of his shoulder. Her cheek pressed lightly between his shoulder blades.

 

He froze at first, his eyes instantly widening before he let out a breath, involuntarily relaxing. “Zelda…” He began in a hoarse tone, turning his head to the side slightly to see her there. “You do not have to-”

 

The Damsel Princess held on tighter, her eyes shooting to look up at him. “Don’t finish that sentence!” Her words cut him off sharply and she continued while laying her head against his back again. “I know that I don't have to… but you and I both know that I want to.” Those phrases left little to no room for argument.

 

Though that did not mean some retorts would not exist. Still… he was compelled to give in to her. They sat in silence as he did not want to say anything that he might regret or hurt her. He should have been better, he should have felt better… he had to. He just… had to.

 

“I sleep soundly because you are here.” She confessed in a whisper, resting her chin against him while looking up. “And I mean it every time when I say you saved me.”

 

The Second Hellwalker turned slowly in her arms, his massive hands barely brushing her back as his arms moved to return the embrace she had so graciously given him. The motion was so careful, so full of restrained force, as if he feared breaking her. Perhaps he was being overprotective but he really could not help it

 

Zelda rested her chin between his shoulder blades, her emerald eyes soft and unguarded as she squeezed him slightly in her embrace. “You’re not the only one who’s haunted, Georgian…”

 

That had a frown marr his expression for a brief moment, speaking through slightly gritted teeth. “But I should have done more—”

 

“You did what you could!” She interrupted gently, her fingers resting over his heart as she pulled only slightly away, her other hand going up to his cheek. “You got me out.” There was a bittersweet smile on her lips. “You’ve been at my side every day since. You think I don’t see the weight you carry? You think I don’t know what it means to live with regret?” Her questions, while earnest, were rhetorical, because they both knew that the answer was a resounding ‘yes’.

 

The demonic mutant looked away, his jaw tensing, but she caught his chin with her still delicate fingers and turned his gaze back to hers.

 

“You are not your guilt, Georgian.” She emphasised while raising her other hand to his face as well, her fingers trailing the uniquely red mark across his right eye, feeling its roughness in contrast to his surprisingly smooth skin,  You are not your scars. You are not the demon the world tried to make you believe you were.”

 

Her words cracked something in him, that long standing belief that he was The Demon Worse Than Demons… Yes, he would always be demonic… his home would be Hell, its Gates readily embracing him when doom would come.., Though… he did not need to be that here. The Mercenary didn’t show it in tears or tremors, but she could feel it in the way his frame softened ever so slightly against her. With perseverance, even the mentalities that had plagued him for centuries could be… alleviated. He closed his eyes and almost smiled, muttering in his beard. “You always say the right things, Zelda...”

 

“No.” She murmured but her smile became sweeter seeing that he was not denying it, resting her forehead against his chest and letting out a long exhale. “I say the true things… and you need to start believing them.”

 

They stood there in silence until he eventually moved again. Just as slowly and even reverently, he pulled his arms further around her, drawing The Silent Princess into the safety of his embrace. It was different from the protective way he’d carried her before, different even from the meditative presence he offered while guarding her sleep. This time, his guard had been lowered and he was the vulnerable one… It was her turn to hold him, to support him. It made her heart flutter in ways that she did not think possible, that he trusted her to this extent. Smiling, she stayed there for as long as he needed, present. She reached up again, her hands playing with his hair, running her fingers back through. 

 

Their shared moment shifted, however, not into coldness, though it did become quite… solemn. Even in the aftermath of such gentle honesty, the edges of guilt still dug at his mind and soul like hellish thorns within The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer. Zelda could feel it in the way his muscles remained tense beneath her touch, how his breath was not drawn out and calm, but instead he was forcing each inhale and exhale. She had felt the moment he'd made his faithful decision even before he'd begun to pull away.

 

 “I just… I need a moment…” He murmured underneath his beard, disentangling from her all too comforting hold before holding his hands up in a placating way. “I am… I am not thinking right.” He turned and placed a hand to the side of his head.

 

Zelda frowned with burgeoning concern, not allowing him to put too much distance between them. “Georgian?”

 

His expression was faintly pained, his mouth a line drawn with restraint. “I’m alright.” He replied gently, offering her a fleeting glance as he tried to convince mostly himself with that. Lowering his hand, he kept opening and closing it, trying to stem his restlessness… “I promise.” That was sincere… and he realised what was the best way to cool off and wash away this nagging sensation… quite literally. “I just need to go through my routine. Clear my thoughts.”

 

She followed his movements as he took his backpack off the table, every shift of his muscle honed and controlled even now, like that discipline was an indispensable part of him. There was something beautifully tragic about the way he moved, like a guardian golem that had come to life but never forgot the weight of the stone that made up his being. He adjusted the straps on him before straightening his jacket and making sure the collar was all well, drawing in a deep breath that squared his shoulders and back. It was as if he was slipping into the persona of The Mercenary again, putting on a second skin, a mask to protect his true self. “I’ll be back before long… Just heading to the pond for a bit.” He assured her, already heading for the door. “Your breakfast is on the table… Chamomile, like always.”

 

Further pressing him this time did not feel right, so The Silent Princess did not go after him. Instead, she remained next to the table, a hand idly resting on it. “You’re avoiding something.” Her quiet and almost aching words slipped from her lips as she gazed at him knowingly.

 

Georgian paused at the door, his hand resting on the frame. “I merely… need to get my thoughts in order.” His eyes did turn to her as something else in the back of his mind was screaming that he should not leave, that he should remain. However… she was going to be fine, right? The pond was literally next to the house, nothing was going to happen to her, right?! 

 

She nodded reluctantly, heart heavy with the silent pain of wanting to help but knowing he needed this brief solitude. “The bond is still open.” She reminded him softly while tapping the side of her head in a manner similar to the gesture from when he carried her.

 

“Thank you…” He mirrored her with an incline of his head, his face shadowed but his words were grateful. “That helps more than you know.” And with that, he stepped out into the soft morning light.

 

The breeze over Hateno was crisp, the dew still clinging to the grass and the leaves of the tree next to the cozy home in the shadow of Ebon Mountain. The Second Hellwalker walked with measured steps right to the edge of the cliff, not even bothering to cross the bridge and take the long route. Deftly, he just leapt off and landed right on the edge of the pond, the environment surrounding him barely disturbed by his motions and presence. When he straightened and turned, he took a moment to just… appreciate the sight. Firly Pond shimmered like a polished mirror as he approached the embankment. A slight mist clung to the surface as the tall rocks shielded the waters from all directions except for west. Without much preamble and growing anticipation for the Waversplitter within, he swiftly removed his backpack before taking off everything else that was a part of his outfit. However, habit made him keep his hidden blade sheaths on the inner side of his forearms. Only his navy blue skin-tight knee-length competition speedo was on his imposing figure now, the rest within his backpack and left against a boulder in his line of sight.

 

In his hand was a pair of blue with white trim swimming goggles, his royal blue gaze turning to the horizon for a moment. The sun was still low, just high enough to bathe the surface in golden hues. It was the perfect time… for a swim.

 

Goggles over his eyes pressed, he stepped into the water.

 

It was cold, very much so as it shot through the scars and muscles to the core of his being, yet, this kind of cold, he welcomed it wholeheartedly. This kind of cold, it made him feel more alive than ever. It soothed him, nourished him, reminded him of what he truly was deep down, a swimmer… and an absolute master at it. Taking in a deep breath through his lips, he dove underneath, moving through the water with an ease that would have made anyone confuse him with a Zora. Eventually, he paused, still holding his breath but not feeling uncomfortable, at least yet.

 

Sitting at the bottom of the pond, he felt the water undulating the strands of his hair and how the chill was sharper on his scalp than every other part of his body, including underneath his speedos. For a long while, he remained there, beneath the water. The world above was muffled and all he could hear was the soft current waddling around his body. However… within, he was anything but calm, thoughts spinning like a whirlpool 

 

I saved her. He tried to tell himself despite the image of an emaciated Zelda in chains being forever burned into his retinas the first time he saw it. I brought her back… I brought her home.

 

I almost killed her… His Adamantine lined blade had been unsheathed for that purpose… How could I not realise sooner?! 

 

Yet… I trust her words… There was no moment when she had blamed him. Frankly… she did not need to. His penance was helping her recover, spending every waking moment in her service. As far as eternal fates went… being bound to The Princess… This is what she wants as well… Alright then… Alright… all… will be right…

 

Slowly, he surfaced, water streaming from his hair and shoulders, eyes opening to the gentle sky. He inhaled, long and steady, letting the lake wash away the bitterest of thoughts. He did not cry. The tears had long since dried from his soul. But, as he allowed his body to fall back into the water's embrace, Georgian, finally, relaxed.

Chapter 16

Back in the Hateno Home, the scent of chamomile tea wafted through the house as The Princess poured herself a cup, humming a ballad softly. She moved through the main room with the grace of one used to both royal ceremony and quiet domesticity, though there was something impish behind her eyes, an idea that had been budding since her Knight in Shadows had gone out the door. She stole a glance through the window toward the cliff's edge overlooking the nearby pond. Her mind trailed back to the tension he’d carried out with him, the heaviness he couldn’t quite shake. It hurt her to see him like that, so alone in a burden he so stubbornly refused to lay down but it also gave her a spark of inspiration. She set her cup down, drawing her hands together before her as if in prayer. “Let’s see if I still remember how to do this…”

 

Having changed into clothes that more resembled her ceremonial gown, Zelda stepped into the center of the room and let out a slow breath. The familiar surge of ancient power gathered in her core, warm and pulsing like the rhythm of a certain royal lullaby. Her sclera shifted to a royal purple shade as her emerald blue glowed brightly, eyelashes shifting to gold as they shimmered, pearly white scales shifting up the length of her arms. Her nails elongated slightly into turquoise claws, delicate but sharp, while her hands were covered in black scales. A pair of shining turquoise horns grew on the sides of her temples, curving backwards and up, branching like a reindeer's while a serpentine tail grew behind her, covered in the same pure white scales and with turquoise spikes protruding out from it.

 

“I did it…! ” She whispered proudly, a grin playing on her lips as she stared at her hands before turning around to see herself. 

 

The transformation had been halted at the halfway point. She didn’t want to lose control of herself, especially since this was the first time she had attempted this. Sure, she had practiced accessing her sacred power with The Mercenary plenty of times… but not shifting into her draconian form. Even just as a hybrid, the surge in sheer power was almost overwhelming and exhilarating, borderline intoxicating yet this was where her training and discipline was bearing fruit. This would do, it was enough and she had control over her dragon self, not the other way around. With playful focus, she walked out onto the back garden, her steps now slightly heavier with her draconic legs and tail counterbalancing her stride. The morning breeze weaved its way through her still long hair, tangling a few strands though it wasn't uncomfortable thanks to the braid on the crown of her head. She grinned again, heart pounding with excitement when her purple-green eyes turned to the blue sky above.

 

Without much preamble, The Draconian Princess took off, the wind catching beneath her like an old friend and rustling her gown. She was a golden comet streaking across the blue, circling once above the village rooftops before banking hard back towards the house with that same mischievous thought that had started all of this in mind. If The Final Knight wouldn't let go of the past, maybe she ought to remind him of what the future could feel like.

 

Her senses far more outreaching and attuned, not to mention the growing bond between The DOOM Slayer Bearer and The Goddess-Blooded Princess, she could feel where he was exactly, right underneath the waters and at the bottom of the pond. With the cliffs shielding it, she had the perfect opportunity. With a mischievous gleam in her eyes and her body angled for speed, Zelda began her descent, the pond shining beneath her and the man she loved floating, unaware, directly in her path.

 

Meanwhile, underneath its surface… like every single time he'd submerge himself the water was a balm, a familiar and forgiving embrace that wrapped itself around Dynamo’s sinewed frame like an embrace. To many others, it was just water but to him, it was almost something sacred. The silence beneath the surface was a symphony. The way it muted the world, the way it pressed against his skin with weight and soothing cold, it always brought him peace, however fleeting. He moved like a specter through the depths, slicing the still waters with the grace of a creature born to it, his Olympic discipline honed even in such a strange and far-flung corner of the world. Here, no eyes judged. No voices followed or plagued him. No titles bore any importance because everyone was equal underneath the ripples. Only the pulse of his heart beating once every two or three seconds and the serenity of submersion.

 

After what felt like hours, though it had only been minutes, he dove with a final surge toward the stony bed of Lake Floria. There, he settled once more, crossing his legs and letting his arms rest on his knees with a brief exhale of bubbles through his nose in order to adjust his lungs to the pressure. Beneath his goggles lenses, his royal blue eyes watched a few tiny fish darting past him, ignoring him. Sunbeams pierced the depths in slow, dancing spears of gold. His eyes closed, and he listened, feeling the water ebb around him, feeling its flow with his whole being.

 

When… suddenly, a disturbance.

 

The water shifted, faint ripples coursing around him and making his ears twitch as he let out another stream of bubbles when shifting his position, his feet on the floor now as he prepared to push off at maximum intensity. A force coming in hot from above had broken the surface tension. He opened his eyes and he did not need to see it to know who it was… but the sheer presence of it was… significantly bigger.

 

In one motion, sleek and swift, he kicked off the lakebed and carved his way upward through the layers of cold, rising like a dolphin toward the surface. The world above burst into clarity as he broke through, droplets flinging into the air like shattered crystal before he set his sight on her.

 

Zelda.

 

She glided overhead, sunlight gilding the golden shimmer of her scales. Her half-draconic form cut the sky with a serpentine elegance, each weave of her body strong, confident, but not without a hint of awkward joy. She dipped slightly when she saw him, caught mid-flight, the way one might be caught mid-laugh with a mouthful of stolen strawberry fruitcake.

 

Their eyes locked and her expression tightened with a touch of panic. Not deep terror but it was just enough to show vulnerability. Her turquoise claws steadied her as she hovered above with her gown ebbing in the wind, watching him tread water beneath her. “Don’t…!” She called down, her voice melodic and uncertain, even laced with slight panic. “…Don't sell me out…! Please…!”

 

The Waversplitter tilted his head, the water coiling and folding around his torso in a perfect rhythm that made sure to help keep him afloat without much extra effort. His strong arms folded across his chest, he remained perfectly balanced, using only the subtle motions of his legs to stay afloat. Not a single muscle strained. His control, especially here, was absolutely impeccable. “Sell you out?” He repeated, tone edged with bemused confusion and outright outrage at the mere thought of it. “For this?”

 

Zelda nodded slightly, biting her lower lip as she was still suspended in the air. Her white scaled, turquoise spiked tail flared with tension. “You’ve seen how people can react… to the blood I carry. It’s not always welcome, even among allies. I—! I just—! I didn’t mean to intrude!”

 

Georgian's brow arched upwards, his soaked hair clinging to his brow as he stared up at her while threading the water in a manner that was almost like he was showing off. There was no mockery in his eyes, just a quiet depth, a gravity that she had come to recognize as uniquely him. “I may be a demon…” He began, his voice going low and gravely with the fury always in him. “But what kind of Godforsaken individual would I be if I choose this exact moment to betray you.” His teeth gritted slightly at the notion, as was his conviction clear. “After everything we’ve been through.”

 

The Draconian Princess blinked as if something had been snapped back into place within her, her posture softening midair. She eased into a gentle descent, landing at the water’s edge with the quiet rustle of grass and the fabric of her gown. She folded her clawed hands over one another, her toes curling in the ground as she walked toward the shallows. “Demons still have genders, you know.” She began, trying not to let the sentence trail off or her unquiet purple-green eyes… though it was clear that she was different when in her hybrid form, more emotional. “I know you love me too much to do such things… but one cannot be too careful.”

 

"Man or not, regardless, my point still stands, Zelda.” The Waversplitter emphasised sternly, his eyes becoming more intense underneath his goggles. “It would go against everything that I have done and told you to sell you out." Her words got to him and he wanted to further reassure her. “No one among us would ever consider such a vile action.”

 

Thanks to her sacred power and current form, The Damsel Princess stepped into the water, her talons barely disturbing the surface. “I thought I was being clever…” She murmured softly, looking down at her reflection. Despite the draconian features, there was still a gentle beauty about her. “Coming to find you like this. I thought I could surprise you.”

 

Relaxing slightly, though still tense from the thoughts of someone actually potentially doing that which she feared, The Mercenary let out a breath, leaning down to blow bubbles into the water before straightening again in his continuous, effortless threading. “You did.” He assured her plainly though more stern. “I wasn’t expecting to see a half-dragon princess dive-bombing my position.”

 

She laughed genuinely, covering her lips briefly with the back of her clawed hand as she was amused by the absolute seriousness with which he had said that. Not to mention him trying to seemingly impress her with her swimming skills… not that he needed to. It all came together into one… quite adorable package. 

 

“Though I am glad you did…” He added, softer now especially that the water had helped him refresh and feel better.

 

Zelda looked up, surprised at the note of spoken affection. “You are?”

 

Georgian's expression was unreadable for a moment, before he glanced away with vulnerability in his eyes. “Because, despite my nearly perfect memory… I seem to forget sometimes… That you are joy… a beacon of light and hope.” His gaze was away from her as he unfolded his arms, lowering himself back in the water to the level of his neck and watching his hand idly feel the water. “And… maybe I still deserve to be reminded of it.”

 

She stepped closer upon its surface. “Then let me remind you every day…” Her tone was beckoning him sweetly and even innocently as she motioned with a hand. The golden light of morning spilled over the rippling surface of Firly Pond, casting dancing reflections across Zelda’s face as she stood quietly on the bank, waiting for The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer. The air smelled of wet stone, fresh water, and distant pine. A gentle breeze stirred the strands of her golden hair as they fell like silk over her shoulders. Her draconic tail and scaled features had receded now, tucked away beneath the illusion of her human form. She stood barefoot in the dewy grass, her delicate toes curling against the coolness, arms loosely folded beneath the hem of her white gown.

Chapter 17

Her emerald blue eyes followed Georgian as he threaded the lake’s surface with effortless rhythm, each movement sleek and precise as he shifted to pull the water in a few broad strokes to make his way to the shore. There was something meditative about watching him, the way his arms cut through the water in practiced strokes, the way his broad shoulders barely broke the surface as he glided across it. A quiet power, controlled, tightly reined and applied in the right dosage for maximum efficiency. It really showed why he'd always say that he was a swimmer deep down. That quiet joy emanating from him when he got to showcase his skill, even briefly… it made her smile to herself. A small, private smile but a genuine one. She had only wanted to try flying, to see what this other side of her could do and, yet a part of her was still left longing despite being content with her brief but enjoyable flight around Hateno… That part longed to have caught him off guard, to succeed in surprising him with an embrace from the sky, to show him her love and gratitude in a manner that only she was capable of. 

 

Now, watching him in the water as he was coming closer, all that faded. The Princess giggled lightly, the sound soft and sincere. “Well, so much for my grand gesture.” She murmured under her breath, brushing a strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

 

The Second Hellwalker didn’t hear her… Well, better said, he had but chose not to say anything. His silence hadn’t been broken since the earlier exchange. Though she knew he had meant every word of his promise, the thought that she feared betrayal, even in jest, had hit him harder than she’d anticipated. The Damsel Princess saw it in the tightness of his jaw, the way he put more force into his strokes than it might have seemed necessary and the increased focus on his expression, that piercing glare coming from underneath his goggles.  

 

Still, when he lifted his head out of the water as he was too close to the shore…  he saw her standing there, waiting for him, and he… paused… His features softened before letting his whole head fall under the water for one last time, enjoying its cooling sensation on his scalp before lifting it back up. Without a word, he began to pull himself up the shore.

 

Zelda’s eyes drifted downward almost involuntarily and, despite herself, she bit her lip lightly to keep from laughing. As he emerged from the pond, the water cascaded down his sculpted frame in torrents and, of course, she found herself blushing. The fact that Georgian only wore a tight, navy blue, knee-length competition speedo that clung to him like a second skin for minimum drag… was not helping. Safe to say, it left little to the imagination. She brought a hand to her mouth and giggled again, this time with more mischief but also bashfulness.

 

He glanced at her briefly, raising a brow, his expression unreadable as water streamed from his hair and shoulders. “Something amusing?” Came his question while taking off his goggles and running his other hand back and forth through his hair rapidly to dry it out faster in the sun.

 

Zelda gave him an innocent look that didn’t match the blush rising in her cheeks. “Nothing at all.” She assured with that same mischievous glint in her eyes before reaching out and giving him a playful push toward the boulder where he’d left his backpack. “But I am not going through with my plan until you are fully dry, mister Mercenary!”

 

Said Mercenary made a quiet sound in his throat, not quite a chuckle, more a low huff with hints of amusement. “What, scared of a little water?” That snark… from his swimmer side, The Waversplitter, it showed for a moment. Only for a moment. He still bore the traces of that hardened edge, his posture slightly rigid, the fury deep within his core simmering still from the accusation she hadn’t even truly meant. “Maybe it will make you into a water dragon.” He muttered dryly, though couldn't help but be slightly cheeky even teasing with his words when reaching his spot, grabbing his folded clothes and turning his back to her.

 

The Princess turned politely, though her smile widened as her motion was slightly exaggerated on her heel, making her hair sway with the motion. “Maybe leave the jokes to the court jester, my love.” She teased with mischief but it was all in good fun, not turning back around for now. “Are you dry yet?” She couldn't help but peek over her shoulder, poking at his slightly damp one… not to mention surprisingly firm.

 

Georgian paused and rubbed the back of his head. “I think so… the sun dried me out. Even the speedos are dry.” He motioned to himself, clearly feeling no shame. After all, he'd been well-used to a sight like this since he was young and going to the pool.

 

She narrowed her eyes in mock annoyance, trying her best to look disapproving. “Get dressed then. I am not hugging you while you’re naked…” That last part was spoken under her breath as she was doing her best to hide her growing blush.

 

He made a small noise in his throat while furrowing his brow, distracted from the task that she had given him more or less. “Being in knee-length speedos is not being naked…” There was almost a side grin at that retort.

 

Her hand swiftly came down and gave the back of his head a gentle whack. “It is if it’s skin tight!” The Damsel Princess argued with a huff, puffing out her cheeks and looking adorable in the process.

 

He scoffed and gave her an exasperated look as he protested. “Hei, nothing’s showing—!”

 

“Oh-hoh?” She leaned forward with mock menace, cutting him off, then had the audacity to reach up and pinch his nose between two fingers. “Don’t ‘hei’ me, Mr.!”

 

His left hand instinctively flinched up toward her wrist but stopped short. His slightly widened royal blue eyes flicked to hers, realizing what he’d almost done. Slowly, his hand dropped, fingers flexing once, then stilled. “You think I can’t breathe?” He asked with a teasing note, trying to mask the moment with humor. “I’m a master swimmer, Zelda. Holding my breath for a very long time is in my nature.”

 

She stared at him for a beat… then burst into laughter. Her head fell back, the sound ringing through the trees like a bell. “Why are you talking like that? Like I’m some terrifying threat?” Pushing those buttons of his was part of her favourite pastimes. 

 

Georgian looked to the side sheepishly, inadvertently making her let go of his nose and allowing him to speak and breathe properly. “Um… no, you’re not. Just... trying, I don’t know…” His voice softened and dropped slightly, his words trailing off as he couldn’t find the right ones for his rampaging thoughts and emotions 

 

Her gaze narrowed, not out of suspicion, but in amusement as realisation was dawning upon The Princess. Slowly, a knowing grin crept across her face. “Awwwwww…!” She kept teasing, drawing out the word with delight. “You do have pride in yourself!”

 

His eyes went wide as that instantly made his denial rise. “I—!”

 

“In swimming!” She added quickly, cutting him off again before there could be even a hint of a descent or negation, teasingly bouncing on her feet to reach close to his face, her golden hair and white dress undulating with each motion. “That’s your thing. That’s your moment of triumph.”

 

Thankfully for her impatience, even though Georgian knew full well that she was being joking with it, his Soldier side made sure that there was efficiency in every motion. Blue camo fatigue pants first, then the white with the red stripe compression shirt. “…Some in swimming only. I know I’m… masterful at it. By necessity. And passion.” His voice lost some of its awkwardness then, growing distant but at the same time sincere. Nanofibertech tech boots were followed by the kneepads and belt with pouches, all straps latched securely. “I consider myself a swimmer before anything else, Zelda. Even before a mercenary or Supreme Commander…”  Then came his black jacket, neatly adjusting his collar before putting on his gloves after which were the gauntlets over his forearms, first the kaki one with the SMI, then his grey one with the multipurpose launcher. Georgian zipped his jacket up in one fluid motion, as though to mask the tenderness of what he’d just said. “I think… that side… the professor… the mentor… shows it. Sometimes…” Lastly, he swung his backpack on and pinned the front closed before he reached up to ruffle out the last of the water from his hair with a hand.

 

Zelda stepped closer, no longer teasing, her voice gentler now and her hands cupped together as if in prayer. “I see that in you.” Her emerald blue eyes were both knowing like they were when she spoke from the depths of her blood-inheritance and innocence akin to the purest damsel. “I see that in you, Cebi. The swimmer you speak of, the professor who possesses boundless knowledge on his passion, the mentor who guides his pupils to the greatest heights beyond even their own imagination… because you can see their potential from the beginning...”

 

There was no retort that he had for that, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer falling completely silent as he just took in her words.

 

“You are not a demon, Cebi…” She continued, stepping closer and stopping right in front of him. “You’re not just The Mercenary or The DOOM Slayer. You’re… more, so much more.” Her smile widened and shone like the sun, unlatching her hands and placing them on his muscular arms. “The part of you that loves the water? That loves movement, not just battle… that’s the part that heals. The part that hopes.”

 

Something flickered in his eyes as they widened for a moment with… something like fear. The kind of anxiety that only exists when someone truly sees you. “…Thank you, Zelda.” He muttered quietly, his walls having not fully come back up yet thanks to her.

 

Without another word, The Princess closed the distance between them, no hesitation and no words, she simply threw herself into him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, cheek pressed to the rough fabric of his jacket, the scent of fresh water still lingering around them. His arms instinctively caught her around the waist, stumbling back a step due to the surprise from it. For a long moment, he said nothing… yet she could feel that his body was no longer tense, no longer distant. The wall was still there, yes, but thinner now, cracked in places.

 

“I was going to hug you from above…” She murmured against the folds of his clothes, a smile still playing on her lips. “But I think this is better.”

 

Georgian rested his chin lightly on the crown of her head, his voice quiet and low. “Agreed.” A long exhale left him and he felt quite… content as they were.

 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” She added with sincere remorse, her voice small as she spoke into his chest. “With that joke earlier... I never thought for a moment that you would sell me out.”

 

He lifted one of his hands and began stroking back her hair. “I know. It is alright.” His words were gentler, slightly muffled by her hair but he could tell by the twitch of her pointed ears.

 

“I was scared.” She admitted, her ears dropping at her confession as she drew herself further into him. “Not of you.” Came her quick clarification. “Just… scared of losing you. Again.”

 

Hearing that, his arms tightened around her, not possessively, but protectively. “You will not.” Georgian promised sincerely. “Not now. Not ever.”

Chapter 18

A while later, when the sun had climbed the sky to reach its zenith among the few clouds… The Silent Princess stood at the center of the meadow just beyond the woods near her home, her breathing expertly controlled and her emerald blue eyes steady. A light sheen of sweat glistened along her collarbone, catching in the sunlight. Her long hair had been tied back into a high ponytail but she still kept the braid along the crown on her head tied at the base of it, her light blue tunic clinching with precise tautness. Long gone was the unsure figure she had been after her rescue, her body had strengthened and regained its lost power, her spirit had been honed and tempered. 

 

At the edge of their little training field, like always, stood The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. He was the eternal observer, the stern professor, yet also her quiet supporter. His experienced royal blue eyes missed nothing. Every shift of her weight, every flick of her wrist, the subtle strain in her movements, he tracked it all. He never raised his voice, never barked like some irate drill sergeant whose purpose was only to break and humiliate. His way was more exacting, more personal. A tilt of his head in approval. A step forward with a quick demonstration accompanied by a succinct explanation. A correction murmured low, just enough for her to hear, yet while also pointing out the good in what she was doing. When she faltered, he would be at her side before she could blink. When she succeeded, he nodded with a satisfaction that could only be understood by a mentor guiding his pupil towards their ideal… and even beyond… A beyond that she craved, she craved to see that shimmer in his royal blue eyes.

 

Today’s lesson had been on complex footwork, parrying and countering an armed opponent using just her hands in close-quarters combat, CQC as The Second Hellwalker would call it. The rhythm was brutal and ruthless on her endurance. Five-count strikes that she had to weave through followed by a spin on the heel and countering with an abdominal heel kick. Again. And again. Each repetition grew more punishing than the last yet she endured, not just because she believed she could… but because the demonic mutant did.

 

By the afternoon, the sun had started its descent above their heads. Zelda stood still, somehow, panting and doubling over, her hands on her knees just after the final drill had been completed successfully. Her legs trembled beneath her and sweat dripped down her face but she was… happy. Dynamo came forward quickly enough, his hand catching her elbow before her knees could fully give out on her first step. A faint ghost of a smile brushed his lips as he handed her the canteen of water with courser bee honey.

 

“You’ve improved.” He remarked quietly while watching her straighten before guiding her to a nearby fallen log for her to sit and rest in the end. 

 

Allowing herself to be led, she smiled tiredly but graciously took the canteen, taking small sips. “You say that every day.” The words came with a long breath, watching him sit down beside her with shining eyes.

 

Now the knowing look was within his eyes and there was still that ghost of a smile on his bearded expression. “Because it is true every day.” And that was no exaggeration. With the way that he had structured her training, each day was dedicated to a particular area and that meant that there was just enough of a break until any of them would repeat that the principle of overcompensation would take hold. “You are still progressing, improving with each session that we go through.”

 

Her eyes sparkled with pride and her heart swelled with joy at his words. They were sincere and earnest, though, thankfully, they did not go to her head. The Princess did not want to disappoint him by becoming overly confident and growing her ego. She still wanted to be humble… but a little pride in one's achievements never hurt anyone.

 

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly as they went through various recovery techniques, the main reason why she had progressed so quickly, along with sharing a modest lunch beneath the shade of the canopy of Midla woods. Of course, there was no rest for the weary as he would quiz her on anatomy and physical fitness while she reclined, drowsy but still focused based on how her pointed ears would twitch and point upwards. He never let her slack, not even intellectually.

 

Of course, Zelda had begun to tease him for it. “You’re merciless!” She joked, laughing warmly though she could not say that she did not admire this side of him. “A true professor of all facets of fitness.”

 

Despite his usual denial regarding his own merits… The Supreme Commander of the Watchdogs notably did not deny that fact. He was finally putting that master professor side of him to good use.. . and it was more satisfying than anything… Except swimming, of course. 

 

When the sun began to sink and a rosy blush swept across the sky, they returned to her house. Their dinners were never grand but the MREs were very delicious. Tonight, her meal consisted of roasted root vegetables with grilled sizzlefin trout and Tabantha wheat flatbread, which was quickly warmed up on an espit stove and, just as the packet said, ready to eat. Every night, the demonic mutant would have her meal already prepared after she'd wind down from the day and get changed. Zelda didn’t complain since she loved watching the way he handled setting the table, arranging everything with millimetric precision and, always, always, setting her favourite tea in a mug next to her plate.

 

However, on this particular night, as they sat at the table, mid-meal, she blinked slowly and didn’t open her eyes again for nearly ten seconds… Something that The Second Hellwalker noticed immediately and knew exactly what the cause was. When her head dipped slightly, chin just grazing her collarbone, his gaze was already on her and he had tensed, prepared to bolt on the next second. She stirred, blinked again and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, fighting the onset of it.

 

Though it was a losing battle, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer knew it. Quietly, he rose, moved to her side and, without a word, stooped to sweep her into his arms. There was no motion to prevent it from her. 

 

She stirred with a soft sound, somewhere between protest and amusement. “I wasn’t done…” She murmured as she turned her cheek further into the folds on his jacket.

 

A long exhale came from him as he began ascending the steps to the bedroom area. “Yes, you were.”

 

She didn’t argue, a light blush dusting her cheeks. Her head rested against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck as he carried her through up the stairs, every step slow and calculated, his boots silent as always on the wooden floor. The moonlight streamed through the upper window as they passed, casting long silver shadows across the bannister and to the main room below where the leftovers remained on the table.

 

By the time he reached the side of her bed, she was mostly asleep. He laid her gently on it, carefully retracting his arms from her form before his gloved fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her countenance. She murmured something he couldn’t make out at first… but then, she did it again, louder, clearer yet still under her breath. “Lay with me again… tonight.”

 

His hand was halfway through pulling the blanket over her and he hesitated. There it was again… That quiet request, almost begging for warmth and reassurance. He closed his eyes for a moment as he wrestled with himself still. It was moments like these that made his denial rise. A part of him still resisted, not because he didn’t want to, certainly not… but because he still feared… himself. Feared that closeness would shake loose something best left buried. He was The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer. The Mercenary who strode through Realms with Hell itself in his wake. Could such a… being… such an individual… lie beside her? Beside someone so pure?

 

However her voice graced his ears again, soft and sleepy… but undeniably pleading… “Please…”

 

His chest tightened.. and then, at last… he nodded. He could not refuse her, could not find it in the dregs of his heart. Quietly, he removed his jacket and boots, setting them neatly aside but leaving his gauntlets on out of habit… and a dash of paranoia. The bed dipped slightly as he joined her, careful, respectful, lying beside her atop the blanket at first.

 

But she turned, eyelids barely open, her small hand, by comparison, searching and reaching out to his gloved one. “No distance…” She whispered. “Not tonight.”

 

He swallowed the knot in his throat and nodded again before he shifted. It was… slightly awkward for him… especially with how big he was… Then, before he knew it, she was in his arms again, curled against him, her breath evening out into sleep. He held her like always… gentle and protective… even… reverent… As if she were the most sacred being in all of existence, something precious not to be marred ever again. He could hear her heartbeat slowing down… and even his own was slowing, calming and even… synchronising with hers. Almost. It almost felt like peace. Like always… he did not sleep, not anymore, but, in his sleeping meditation, as the Chant of The DOOM Slayer centered his rage filled thoughts… But he watched over her, every minute of the night, just as he always had and always would.

Chapter 19

The first light of dawn crept quietly through the window, accompanied by the morning breeze pushing its way inside, crisp and cool, perfectly refreshing to those who'd rise early and reach far. The hum of nature beyond the window steadily sprung to life, leaves rustling as birds chirped and flew to and from among the canopy. 

 

Steadily, thanks to this symphony of the wild, The Princess’ lashes fluttered open, the world coming back to her in waves, gentle yet present. For a moment, her mind remained in that ethereal space between dreams and wakefulness, content to merely lay there. The weight of the previous day, the training, the beach, the deep conversations, the exhaustion, all still clung to her mind and body, yet they felt as comforting as the warmth of the one around her… Her emerald blue eyes moved to the side, and she was met with a sight she hadn’t expected in her drowsiness. The Mercenary was still lying beside her.

 

His large and unmoving form was sprawled across the bed next to her. His breathing was steady, even, a stark contrast to the usual intensity and the calm coldness that The Supreme Commander would exude. He had his back to her and she could see that the massive muscles in his back and shoulders were loose… relaxed. There was still an ever so slight note of tension though it did not bear comparison, he was relaxed as he would be in the water. The warmth of his presence filled her and a softness washed over her, one that made her hesitate to move. It was… just too peaceful. Memories of the night before came back to her, how she had almost fallen asleep while eating… and he just carried her to bed without a word or hesitation. That was when Zelda remembered that, in her drowsy state, she had asked him to stay. She had asked him to lay beside her, to rest with her. It almost felt like it had happened in a dream but the realization that it was real made her heart flutter in a way that was both familiar and new, comforting and unnerving. She had been craving it, the simplicity of being close to someone without the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders.

 

She reached out, her delicate fingers brushing against his arm. His skin was warm and, despite the hard edge of his exterior that he always appeared to put up, there was a tenderness in him that she hadn’t fully understood until now. Her fingertips traced a small, unconscious line along the scars on his skin before pulling away, as though remembering to respect the space between them.

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer stirred wide awake at that, his eyes shooting open and blinking a few times as he assessed his surroundings. His hand that was still resting on the bed clenched instinctively before he pushed himself up, turning to look at The Princess and seeing that she had awoken as well. "Good morning-…" He murmured and caught himself before using her royal title… again. He really could not help himself.

 

Zelda smiled to herself, the gesture almost imperceptible. She had not expected him to wake so easily, but then again, his mind and body were always on alert and he did not exactly sleep. “Good morning.” She replied, with a soft and tender voice. She felt a warmth spreading in her chest when watching him blink slowly, as if adjusting to the light and the waking world around him.

 

The Second Hellwalker rolled fully onto his back, stretching slightly. His eyes met hers, those piercing blue depths on both ends  filled with something different today, something deeper. For a long moment, he just stared at her, as if trying to read her expression, trying to understand what this moment was to her.

 

Zelda's smile softened as she sat up in bed, folding her legs beneath her. "Part of me didn’t expect to wake up with you still here." She admitted, her tone light but sincere as her eyes didn't leave him. 

 

Hearing that, his brows went up in genuine surprise, which was something very rare for him. Though, he did not harden as he lifted himself up on his elbows. "You asked me to stay, remember?" His voice was rougher but there was a certain gentleness to it that was clearly only reserved for her. "I was not going to leave you in the middle of the night just to sit at the foot of your bed.” 

 

She laughed lightly, though there was a hint of hesitation in it. It was strange, this feeling… strange but welcome. The Princess wanted more of it, to embrace it more within her. "Yes, I remember now…" She said, her gaze finding his with gratitude. It was why she had slept so soundly. The vulnerability in the room felt palpable, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The outside world, with all its responsibilities and struggles, seemed far away… At least for now.

 

The Mercenary propped himself up to fully sit cross-legged on the bed, looking over at the window. "What’s on your mind today?" He asked, his voice suddenly quieter and more tentative, as though he could sense the shift in her mood.

 

Zelda blinked and looked away briefly, her thoughts briefly slipping from the warmth of the moment to something more pressing. "I was thinking..." She paused, her gaze returning to him, thoughtful as she fiddled with the blanket on her lap. "I think I should go check on the castle. I haven’t been there in… so long, and I... I need to see for myself what’s going on." There was no more putting it off, she had to see with her own eyes what had been done to her home and, more than that, she had to fix it.

 

Georgian's brow furrowed slightly, though his eyes never left her. There was a quiet understanding in him, one that saw the unspoken urgency behind her words. He knew this was something she couldn’t ignore and they never had. All of her training, it was leading up to this. Her responsibility, her duty to the land, her people, all crying out for salvation. Still, something about it unsettled him. He could feel it in his Adamantine bones, the subtle way her shoulders had tensed when she'd mentioned it. He turned his body to her and leaned forward slightly, his voice low but clear as he placed his hands over hers, holding them still in silent reassurance. "You don’t have to do it alone, Zelda. I will be right there, with you, in your shadows."

 

She met his gaze with a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes completely. "I appreciate that, but I think this is something I need to do myself. You’ve been beside me every step of the way. I can’t keep pulling you into every part of this." She paused, glancing down at her hands folded in her lap and his massive paddle-like ones holding hers. The Silent Princess shifted her fingers, running her thumbs over the back of his hands, her eyes staring at the Harbinger Triforce sigil on his left one. Then, she found her words again, her tone fond even if her smile was bittersweet. "Besides, you’ve been so much to me already, Cebi... I don’t want to add more weight to your shoulders."

 

So alike… They were so alike in thinking in such a manner that it was remarkable. Altruistic to a fault. The demonic mutant didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his eyes softened further yet shone with that same innate determination as he reached out, his fingers lightly brushing her wrist as he pulled her hands slightly closer to him. "Zelda…" He began quietly, voice barely above a whisper. "You don’t have to do it all alone, either. I’ll always be here, I made a promise, a vow to do so. Don’t be like me…" His voice dropped a fraction lower and there was a vulnerability in it that was uncharacteristic of the usual calm, cold and calculated persona he wore. "You’re not a burden, not to me. You never were and never will be."

 

Her heart caught in her chest at the tenderness of his words and she felt the sting of guilt and affection both stir within her. Perhaps he had rubbed off on her. "Thank you." She said softly, averting her gaze for a brief moment before meeting his again. "I’ll remember that."

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer offered an incline of his head, the ghost of a smile on his bearded face. "Whatever you need, I’ll be here." He promised again, squeezing her hands lightly before leaning forward and kissing the crown of her head briefly.

 

A comforting silence lingered between them as she absorbed his words and gestures. She had so many responsibilities pulling her in different directions, but in that moment, she realized how much she longed for the peace he offered her. How much she needed it. It was exactly why she had to go through with this, because the Royal Chancellor was the biggest threat to the peace she desired. The Silent Princess let out a long breath, the weight of the day’s plans settling into her chest. "I’ll go later this morning. After breakfast. I just want to..." She trailed off, glancing toward the window, her thoughts drifting to the castle and the many uncertainties and threats that waited there. "I want to make this right… I cannot let my people suffer anymore."

 

"I understand.” Georgian nodded, his gaze never leaving her countenance. “But remember, you don’t have to carry the burden of everything on your own shoulders. We’re in this together." The irony of him saying that very fact was not lost on him. After all, he did have a bad habit of doing that very same thing. Perhaps it made him a hypocrite yet, at the same time, even he could change and share the load when needed.

 

For a long moment, she said nothing, allowing his words to settle within her, feeling the warmth of his sincerity filling her soul. Finally, she smiled, brightness returning to her emerald blue eyes. "Thank you, Cebi. I think I needed to hear that more than I realized." A light giggle left her lips at that one, leaning towards him and pecking the tip of his nose as thanks. 

 

That had him freeze for a moment before an exhale of relent left him. Quietly, he squeezed her hands again… then slowly shifted, letting go of her hands as he stood up, putting his boots back on and throwing his jacket on him while descending down to the main room to prepare her breakfast. 

 

Zelda remained still for a moment longer, her eyes on the wooden ceiling staring at nothing in particular, her thoughts quieting as she let the silence of the room settle around her. The weight of the day ahead hung heavily in the air, but she tried not to let it burden her soul. A passing thought crossed her mind… Ever since mentioning that she wanted to scout out the castle… Georgian's movements had been unusually slow, more deliberate, like someone who was waiting for something terrible to happen, waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop after these few weeks of relative peace. She caught the faintest hint of something in his posture, something like reluctance or even anxiousness, but it was fleeting, as he often was quick to catch any… leaks of emotion. The Silent Princess exhaled softly, resting her hands over her chest for a moment before rising from the bed herself. The sheet brushed the side of her skin as she swung her legs to the floor. She moved methodically, the familiar motions calming her nerves over what she had planned to do. The house was quiet, safe for the occasional creak of the old wood beneath her bare feet, a comforting reminder of this place she’d called home for so long. She dressed quickly in her usual research and travel tunic, the light blue blouse missing the usual golden inlays because she did not want to attract any unwanted attention to herself. Though she enjoyed how form fitting the beige outer corset of it felt to her now, especially when she had managed to reach close to her peak again. It was practical for the journey ahead, but it felt oddly comforting in its simplicity. Zelda paused for a moment in front of the mirror by the door, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face and adjusting the braid on the crown of her head. 

 

The reflection staring back at her was one she had come to recognize more fully… yet The Princess who stood before her was also someone she had not completely understood until now. A Princess, yes, but also someone who had known loss, who had known pain, and who, despite everything, still moved forward, because she had every reason to do so. 

 

With a deep and filling breath, she took one last look at herself in the mirror, making sure she was composed and ready for whatever the day would bring.

 

The scent of breakfast wafted up the stairs, mingling with the crisp morning air that was coming in through the window. It stopped her train of thoughts on the future and brought her back into the present time. She smiled softly to herself while closing her eyes and bringing her hands to her chest as if in prayer, an old habit of hers. There was no doubt in her mind regarding who had prepared, after all, it was more than obvious that The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer had made it a staple of his routine. With all of his coldness, all of his expressed hardness and militaristic nature, his quiet acts of care spoke much louder. Those were both a comfort and a constant reminder of how much he had become a part of her life since they had been reunited appropriately two decades later.

 

As she descended the stairs, the warmth of the main room greeted her like an old friend. The soft light filtering through the windows caught the edges of the room, giving everything an almost golden sheen as the rays streamed through from above. Dynamo was standing by the table, his back to her as he moved about with fluid motions. The simple act of preparing food seemed to ground him, as though it was a moment of peace he could carve out before the inevitable trials and tribulations of the day. His movements were precise, practiced like always, his gloved hands setting the contents of the plate with care. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a simple meal from one of the many MRE packs that he carried with him and some other additions from Hateno. This time, it was boiled eggs, toasted bread along with various fruits, like berries and mighty bananas. Simple, yet even that simplicity held a sort of complexity by itself, almost like a reflection of the demonic mutant who made it.

 

Zelda stepped into the room and leaned against the frame on that last step, watching him for a moment. She admired how easily he navigated the space, how natural it seemed for him to take on these small, quiet duties. The tension that had gnawed at him earlier was gone for now. He was calm, centered, as though preparing for the day was a small, manageable task he could control. "Smells wonderful." Her kind words came softly, breaking the silence and making Georgian pause for a moment, turning his head just enough to meet her gaze out of the corner of his eyes.

 

"Good morning… again." He replied, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. There was a warmth in his eyes, a softness that she knew was reserved only for her. “I thought you’d appreciate something familiar before we... head out.” His words were chosen carefully as he tried to keep himself from dipping into his Supreme Commander and Soldier side, at least until their mission would begin.

 

The Lady Princess smiled back, stepping forward as he slid the plate with her meal over to the chair at the head of the table that was obviously meant for her. “It’s perfect.” Came her immediate reply, her voice light but with an undertone of gratitude. She sat down at the table as he placed the cutlery in front of her as well, the food still steaming. She reached for the fork, her eyes following his every movement with her usual intrigue over him filling her gaze.

 

In his silence that had followed, he went to sit down at the side of the table, close to her. Like usual, he was tapping through the SMI on his left gauntlet, taking care of his own responsibilities and duties, mainly making sure the Realms were not on fire and his men were keeping everything and everyone protected and balanced. It was a monumental task, but there were enough of them spread out. So far… all was fine on that front, which meant that he could focus on today, on their objective of finally confronting and confirming the state that the Kingdom of Hyrule was in.

 

“You know, Cebi…” Zelda spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, breaking the comfortable silence. “Sometimes I think I’d prefer to stay here... Just the two of us, without all the chaos waiting outside.” There was… a note of shame in her tone, thinking herself a coward for wishing that. She had paused after a bite of the egg and toast, her emerald blue eyes staring at him. 

 

Those words broke him out of his focus, letting his left hand down on the side of the table while his head turned to her. He said nothing, but subtly nodded to indicate that he was listening intently to what she had to say. He knew exactly what she meant.  The castle, the kingdom, everything outside this small, quiet home, they were all waiting for her to return to them. During her recovery, this had been her refuge, her sanctuary, the one place where the weight of responsibility could be set aside, even if only for a brief while in hindsight.

 

“I would… I truly would…” She repeated, her lowly spoken words almost broken by the shame welling up in her, carrying more weight than she intended. She set her fork down and leaned back in her chair, meeting his gaze fully. “But I know I can’t stay here forever. The kingdom needs me. They need their Princess.” Saying it aloud seemed to cement that very fact and she was coming to terms with it herself.

 

All this time, hearing her lament but also catching onto the determination in her at this, The Second Hellwalker had said nothing, just took in her words. A long exhale left his nostrils as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his own seat. “They do… but that does not mean you do not deserve to have your moments of peace, even after we reinstate you as the rightful ruler.” There had to be some way to balance it out and he would be damned before he would give up on helping her find it. Even if it would prove fleeting, he wanted her to have the luxury of letting go of the burden of responsibilities, even if only for a few hours. “I know that it will not be easy, but you have the full support of all of us on this.”

 

Zelda’s heart ached at the words, at the deep-seated loyalty that he showed her. It was humbling as it was reassuring. She reached across the table, her left hand brushing against his before her spindly fingers curled around it. He didn’t pull away and she found a small measure of comfort in the gesture. “You’ve been by my side through all this time and I…” There was a pause as a wider,  fond smile broke over her gorgeous countenance. “I can’t imagine facing all of this without you.” She confessed while running her thumb over the sacred mark on the back of his hand. 

 

Georgian's gaze softened as her words settled between them. He didn’t speak at first, but she could see the wheels turning in his mind, the internal struggle to accept something good happening to him without his anxiety over some inevitable tragedies befalling him. After a long silence, he gave a single incline of his head “I made a promise, did I not?” His question was wholly rhetorical and it served to underline his eternal commitment to The Silent Princess. Once, he had made a grave mistake, never again. Now, he was doing everything to undo the dire damage done. “Whatever happens, I will be right there with you.” Inevitably, his mind turned to the coming confrontation. “Just... be careful out there, Zelda... Don’t let it consume you.” Maybe it was hypocritical, coming from him, but he meant well, sincerely so. Perhaps this was a way for him to confront his own bad habits and negative qualities, to do better in order to feel worthy of her.

 

Zelda squeezed his hand gently, offering him a small, yet reassuring smile. "I will not." Even though it did not rise, her tone carried her unwavering conviction. "Not as long as I have you by my side to catch me when I fall." She could feel the weight of the world pressing on her shoulders, but in this moment, in the warmth of her home, with the man who had stood by her side through her whole recovery, she felt lighter. Though… the way she looked at him… something was amiss.

While he had half-expected her to stand up and leave… she didn't. Instead, her gaze was boring into him with an intensity that he should have been familiar with by now. 

 

The Princess’ eyes were alighted with mischief as she pointed toward the remains of today's MRE. For her part, she had already finished her meal, having savoured every bite as though it were a rare delicacy. “Georgian…!” She began, her tone teasing, but there was a hint of benevolent authority beneath it. “You’re not going to leave without eating, are you?”

 

He glanced up from where he had been staring at her hand over his, his face half-hidden in shadow. His usual resolve seemed to falter just for a second as his eyes met hers. It was rare for her to insist on something, but when she did, it was almost impossible to resist. Her stubbornness was something that he admittedly loved and appreciated. He had never been one for fussing over food, on the contrary, he oftentimes skipped meals even if it was detrimental. However, seeing her gaze fixed on him with that particular intensity, the same intensity she had when she asked him to train her or when she sought his help with a challenge, reminded him that she did this because she cared deeply. 

 

With a slight sigh of relent, the corners of his lips quirked up just a little. The Final Knight nodded and adjusted his seat, pulling over the packet and taking out a few of the bars and biscuits. “You’re very insistent on this, you know that.” Despite wearing a slightly more serious expression, his rough tone had an undertone of amusement. 

 

Zelda raised an eyebrow, a playful smile dancing on her face as she rested her chin on her right palm. “Of course I am. If I don’t push you, you’ll end up forgetting. Now eat. I won’t tolerate you starving yourself while I enjoy this.” Her smile was gentle but firm and The Second Hellwalker could not help but huff as another side of him softened before her. 

 

Every time his walls would inherently come back up, she would just tear them down. He did not need a fork this time, picking at the bars in a comfortable silence that lasted for a few minutes. The only sound was the occasional rustle of fabric as either of them shifted in their chairs. As she watched him eat, the weight of the coming day loomed in the air over her. This meal felt like a small island of tranquility before the storm of responsibilities and tribulations would inevitably find her… find them. They both knew what was coming now that she had made the faithful decision to make the journey back to Hyrule Castle, the uncertainties that lay within its stone walls, and the kingdom that desperately needed its Wild Princess.

 

Though her gaze did not leave The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer’s form, her mind did, even if it was wandering. There was no avoiding it, no matter how much the thought did bring some… anxiety. She had to go back and face the past. The castle, the people, the burden that lies in waiting. It wouldn't just disappear.

 

Georgian remained silent for a long moment, half of the food that he had picked out for himself still uneated. He stared down at the remaining food, letting his hand on the table before lifting it and looking at his palm… then he adjusted the glove. He knew what she must have been thinking about and he had known this day was coming, but that did little to ease the sense of unease that gnawed at him now. He was not afraid of returning to the castle, it was more than that. It was the heaviness that surrounded her return. It was not going to be one with open arms, but with swords and spears. Part of him genuinely wondered if there were any who remembered her… and how many were still loyal. His eyes lifted from his palm to meet hers, and for a moment, he allowed the warmth of her gaze to calm him… though he noted how she seemed a tad distant. The Mercenary tilted his head to the side and reached out with his right hand to hers this time.

 

That gesture snapped The Goddess-Blooded Princess out of it and it made her smile softly, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. She leaned across the table, her hand reaching out in return to gently take his. The simple touch, the warmth of their fingers intertwined, was enough to offer some comfort. She knew that she was not alone when with him and even when distance separated them, they had their bond to rely upon. A bond that was growing ever deeper and more powerful. Their minds, their souls growing closer as one.

 

There was no need for words as The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer squeezed her hand slightly, but just enough to convey the promise that he had made to her. Yes, he would always be hardened and driven by rage… but there was one more feeling driving him. That fondness which shone in his royal blue eyes only when he would look at her. 

 

She rose from her seat and stood before him, her expression serious but warm. “Let us go. It is time to face what is ahead of us… and begin taking back our kingdom.” Still holding his hand, she pulled him to stand with her.

 

Of course, The Mercenary obliged and gave a firm incline of his head, his gaze steady. There was no hesitation in him now, only the quiet resolve of someone who had already made his decision. Together in step, they walked outside though they did not get too far. After a few more moments of shared silence, Zelda released his hand when stepping out onto the grass around the Hateno home. By this point, the sun was fully up though there was still some time until it would reach its zenith. Over in the direction of the castle, there was quite the significant cloud formation, like a storm coming from the northern territories. 

 

“I’ve been thinking.” The Goddess-Blooded Princess began, her voice thoughtful as she stared out towards the castle, where it would be, at the darkened sky that was symbolic of the plague rotting her kingdom. She bit her lip for a moment before she turned back to him. “I’d like to try something... If you’ll allow it.”

 

The Second Hellwalker tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows rising in intrigue. “I probably will.” He remarked while running his left hand back through his hair. Again, there was no denying her though she did know how to get him curious. “Namely what?”

 

Zelda bit her lip while lacing her hands behind her, the playful glint returning to her eyes in an almost childishly innocent manner. “I want to fly… but not just as myself. I want to try my half-dragon form and see if I can use it to get to the castle faster.” Her smile became wider as she turned fully to him, her hair swaying with the motion. “It’ll give us a bit of an advantage.”

 

Well, she certainly did not need to beg him for this. The only thing that might have been a concern for him would be her endurance for it, but they had adequately trained that. They had trained everything and she had already proven to have the ability to hold a hybrid form for an extended duration of time. “Yes, that is true, it would be the fastest way of getting there.” Comparatively at least since he had fast means as well, even though his means were four-legged. After rubbing his beard, he gave another nod to her. “I think you are ready.”

 

At first, The Princess seemed surprised by his quick acceptance. She had expected him to hesitate, to question her readiness or argue that she needed more training. After all, the dragon blood within her was powerful, unpredictable and had only manifested its potential in the past weeks, even then not fully so. However Georgian's approval felt like a balm to her restless spirit. It confirmed what she had felt deep inside, that she was, in fact, ready for this step. With a smile, she clasped her hands together and nodded. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course.” He said simply, his voice low, but words sincere. “I trust you and I’m right here with you. Always.”

 

With that, Zelda moved toward the clearing, stepping out of the shadows cast by the house and into the rays of the early light day. Georgian moved to stand back a little, folding his arms as he observed. Already, his presence had shifted into that of the benevolent mentor… though, today, was a moment of truth for his pupil. Still, even with the inevitable nervousness, she felt the reassurance. The world outside around her was quiet, the grass swaying slightly in the morning breeze. There was a peacefulness to the land that always made her feel grounded, even when the winds of change were close at hand. The Princess With The Blood of the Goddess closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. She could feel the rush of energy brought on by her light dragon blood stirring inside her, that ancient, potent power that pulsed with a deep, untamed energy of pure light capable of healing and purging evil. The power of it thrummed beneath her skin, urging her to release it, to embrace it fully. She raised her hands, her fingers curling into fists as she focused. 

 

Slowly, carefully, she allowed the transformation to begin. The air around her seemed to shift as her body glowed faintly, the first signs of her dragon blood overtaking her human form. Pure white scales appeared along her forearms, her skin shifting from soft human flesh to the smooth, iridescent scales of her draconian side. Her eyes shimmered with an ethereal glow, the sclera turning purple as the iris shifted to a bright emerald with her senses heightening, eyelashes turning into the same shade of gold as her mane-like hair. There were no wings, but her hands were overtaken by blackened scales, fingers elongating and turning into sharp, turquoise claws. A serpentine tail sprung out behind their, lining her spine with turquoise spikes. The crown of her head was now adorned with a pair of glowing, turquoise horns, the golden light around her as her hybrid form had been achieved.

 

All the while, The Mercenary watched with an unwavering expression, his arms folded as he stood quietly. However, there was something in his eyes, something that was generally rare for him. Pride, deep pride but it was pride for The Draconian Princess. He knew this was a monumental moment for her. She was no longer just The Princess of Hyrule, but something more, something ancient and powerful, but still undeniably benevolent.

 

When she finished, she spread her arms and tilted her head back as if allowing the sheer rush of energy to fill her from her core to the extremities. Letting them down, Zelda turned to face him, the features of her countenance slightly elongated but still undeniably harmonious and even beautiful. However, the effort it took to maintain the transformation was visible on her face as she kept her breaths deep and controlled. “I’m ready.” She stated firmly, her voice carrying a note of certainty.

 

Dynamo nodded, still looking at her fondly but his expression steadily became firmer as he gazed at her in this new form. “Let’s go then.” He stepped closer and held his arms at his sides as if getting ready for her to pick him up and fly off.

 

With that, The Draconian Princess walked closer to him and placed her arms around his waist before she launched herself into the air, her tail ondulating behind her as if further propelling her upwards, lifting her higher and higher. The Second Hellwalker remained as still and relaxed as possible, quietly impressed that she did not seem to have any issues so far in carrying his three hundred kilograms self across the sky. Together, they made their way toward Hyrule Castle, the vast expanse of the land beneath them stretching out in all its glory. From above, all seemed quiet and peaceful, all seemed as it should be, but both knew that the rot was within and it was time to begin rooting it out. The wind rushed past them with a force that tugged at their hair, the landscape below blurring into a patchwork of greens and browns, the towering Dueling Peaks fading behind them on their right as they passed by the Peak of Awakening, leaving Mount Lanayru behind as well. Now fully in her half-dragon form, Zelda could feel the wind lifting her, urging her higher when passing the Lanayru Promenade and coming over Rabla Plain. Her form was quite difficult to spot with how high in the air they were, slicing through the air with effortless grace as they quickly passed over the Lanayru Wetlands.

 

Admittedly, The Final Knight was momentarily taken aback by her sudden surge of strength, but he steadied himself quickly as she soared with him in her grasp. His keen royal blue eyes scanned beneath them for any signs of movement or any sort of threats… but there was nothing. There were no caravans or traders travelling between stables, no farmers going to the city to sell their wares, nothing, absolutely nothing. It was as if the kingdom was abandoned. Even the land itself seemed to become more… decayed as he glimpsed Zora's Domain to the east… looking like it was going through a severe drought along with water contamination based on the colour of it. It was something that he could spot even from this distance.

 

However, there was no time to dwell or discuss it, at least for now. The Draconian Princess veered westwards, passing over the Crenel Peak and Hills with their landing zone in sight. The Hyrule Forest Park which had been tended to by the Royal Family since ancient times, with each pair of rulers planting a tree until it had become a blossoming expanse… That was when she was a child… because most of it seemed to have been either burned away or left to decay, like the rest of the Central Hyrule region. Zelda glanced down at him, her face a mixture of determination and sorrow at the state that her homeland was in, but there was also a quiet joy in her, one that only someone truly free to show what they held within could express. Dynamo's grip tightened subtly on her, feeling the strength and power of her movements as she carried them. It was something he had never quite imagined, The Princess, in her half-dragon form, soaring through the skies with a confidence he had not seen in her before. It was as though she had unlocked something inside herself, something that had always been there, waiting to be set free.

 

"You’re doing well…!" The demonic mutant remarked loudly, his voice almost lost in the wind. His breath caught in his chest as they rose higher, his eyes scanning the landscape beneath them. He could see the mist ridden Lost Woods and the massive cherry blossom tree in the heart of it, the one and only Great Deku Tree. To his relief, it did not seem like there had been any damage done to Korok Forest where the pedestal of the Master Sword was located. However, he was fairly certain that The Blade of Evil's Bane was in the possession of The Hero of The Wild. After all, he did maintain communication with him ever since he had made his return and settled in Hateno temporarily. 

 

Zelda nodded at his words, her purple and green eyes focused ahead, but there was a hint of surprise and pride in her expression. “I didn’t expect it to feel this... right.” Her voice was strong, yet there was a gentle reverence to it, as though she was in awe of her own power. “I can feel the connection between my human side and the dragon blood inside me. It’s... like everything is attuned to this moment.”

 

The Mercenary didn’t respond at first, letting the silence settle between them for a couple long seconds. He understood, of course he did considering the fact that he had gone through a similar process in tempering, controlling and accepting the rage fueled Demon Worse Than Demons within him. Now, he could see it in her eyes, the way she had come to terms with her identity, the way she was no longer hiding from the past, no longer fearful of the dragon within her. He had witnessed her growth from the moment they had first met again, the uncertainty in her eyes during her first days of training, the fragility of her spirit when he had carried her out of the Basement. Compared to then, she was radiant, confident and yet she was still unmistakably herself. "You've always been more capable than you believed, Zelda.” He murmured with a knowing edge to his voice and glint in his eyes, especially since he had a knack for seeing the inner potential. "But remember, you don't have to carry it all on your own." Was it a tad hypocritical of him with his lone wolf tendencies to say that? It was but his words were sincere as always.

 

Her eyes flicked toward him for just a moment, her gaze soft but knowing. “I know.” She murmured quietly, her words almost lost to the rushing wind but managing to reach his keen ears. They were heavy with the weight of the responsibility that lay ahead but also with the resolve that now made her soar through the slightly clouded Hyrulean sky. There was a long pause before she spoke again, her voice filled with determination. “I have you… and I’m not going to let anyone make me feel weak for it.” He was her greatest support and, despite his flaws… she could not deny how deeply she felt for him. 

 

His gaze softened more as he met her eyes, and, for a brief moment, they shared a silent understanding through their growing bond. No words were necessary between them. He had always feared that he would be a burden to her, with all of the trauma that he carried from his long life, the sorrow stemming from losing his Realm and so many people that he had loved, the inner demons that plagued his mind… but she had never hesitated. She had never seen him as anything less than the person he was, anything less than a man despite him unleashing the feared unchained predator right before her. It was a comfort he had not known he could have again until she gave it to him.

 

For a moment, it seemed as though nothing in the world could break that bond they shared, that quiet understanding between them. However, all too soon, the looming shadow of Hyrule Castle was rapidly approaching them, its towering blue spires and strong white walls cutting through the sky like ancient sentinels that had stood tall for thousands upon thousands of years. The Draconian Princess ondulated her body strongly once, as if propelling herself through the water, the power behind her strokes sending them soaring faster towards the castle.

 

Dynamo’s grip tightened once more as they approached, his attention now fully focused on the task at hand. The mask of The Mercenary, all the sides of him that made up this persona of his, they were all rushing forth. Part of him never quite expected to need to infiltrate a place where he had been received with open arms so often… Good thing he knew it inside out. The need to protect Zelda, to ensure that nothing threatened her safety, was at the very forefront of his plan to infiltrate it.

 

As they neared the castle’s massive walls and making sure that no sentries would spot them, The Draconian Princess began her descent, the wind rushing past them as they flew closer to the large moat that surrounded the castle itself. It was a delicate maneuver, one that required the perfect balance of strength and control, something that Zelda managed to achieve as they approached from the east. Her tail fluttered once or twice and then they were descending, the ground rising up to meet them. She passed just above the water of a tributary that flowed into the moat, the reflection of the pristine rippling their forms beneath her as her feet touched the soft earth of Hyrule Castle Park.

 

For a brief moment, neither of them moved. They simply stood there, The Draconian Princess still in her half-dragon form, her arms wrapped around The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer as she allowed her head to fall against him. Tentatively and almost reluctantly, she lifted it to look around, the weight of their arrival beginning to sink in.

 

The Second Hellwalker did the same, though he did not extract himself from her embrace quite yet. That was not an urgent matter. While the park was quiet… it was not exactly peaceful or serene. Some of the ancient trees still towered, their branches swaying slightly in the breeze, while others had been reduced to stumps or hollowed out husks. The grass was patchy, having not grown back in some place, as if the earth itself was suffering from some sort of disease that prevented it from fully recovering. Even the air retained an ashy scent despite the fact that it was clear the fire had died out long ago.

 

Zelda glanced at him, her eyes meeting his as she slowly began to revert back to her human form. She felt a sense of pride at how effortlessly she had made the journey, but there was also unease bubbling beneath the surface. The journey to the castle was the easiest part. Now came the true challenge. This was her responsibility and this was the place where so much had been lost… “I didn’t think it would feel so... final.” The Silent Princess remarked in a voice no more than a hesitant whisper, taking a few steps towards the edge of the moat. She had always known she would return to the castle someday, but now that the moment had come, it felt harder than she had anticipated.

 

Dynamo stepped up toward her, glancing upwards at the looming structure before them. Only once before did he ever get the sense that it was intimidating, during the Era of Twilight. There were a few parallels that he could draw to that time… but his focus had to remain in the present. Despite the hardness of his expression, mainly due to his experience, there was that inevitable softness when reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. “There are sayings back on Terra Prime… that maybe this is the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning... and that is why you feel such. Whichever one it is… we will see it through, together.”

 

Zelda gave him a small smile, her eyes glistening with unshed emotion and also resolve. “Thank you.” She mumbled but he heard her clearly. “I know… but a reminder helps, as I am sure that you are aware.”

 

For a long moment, they simply stood there, side by side, looking out at the castle ahead of them. The weight of the world seemed to press down on their shoulders, but for now, there was solace in knowing they were together. They could not rush this and the both of them were trying to see what the best and most unexpected way to get inside was. The quiet hum of the wind passing through the park and the steady rush of the moat’s water in front and behind them were the only sounds that filled the air. It was time to face the castle. The Princess had her strength back and none other than The Mercenary beside her. She could face anything, even the whole of the Dark World if need be.

Chapter 20

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“How do we do this?” He asked, finally breaking the silence as he did have a plan in mind, squeezing her shoulder quietly in reassurance.

 

“I will defer to you.” She stated, glancing at him beside her and lifting a hand to place it over his, squeezing it for a moment. “You are the expert in infiltration here.”

 

At that one, he almost smiled, but nodded nonetheless. “Understood.” Then he gazed ahead at their objective again. The air around Hyrule Castle was thick with an unsettling quiet, as if the land itself was holding its breath. From the outside, he could not see if there had been any changes to the layout though he could definitely tell that the battlements had not been maintained as they should have. Only the fact that they had been constructed to be resilient, to be a symbol of Hyrule’s enduring nature in the face of darkness, meant that they were still standing. However, now they were a barrier guarding the cancer slowly killing the land…

 

There was one direct way that he could use to get them there, across the moat, before any sentinels could potentially spot them. Swimming was out of the question, at least this time and much to his chagrin. Though he did have his grappling hooks which meant that he could slingshot them across since there was absolutely no way the cable was long enough. 

 

“I know how we will get across.” Dynamo broke the silence, already turning and taking several measured steps. He stopped at around ten meters away from the edge and turned back, eyeing the trees and picking out the ones that looked both flexible and sturdy enough. 

 

The Princess did not speak but she did watch him curiously. Turning, she paced with him, watching as his mind calculated… something, though she could not tell what for now. The rupee had yet to drop though she already figured that they were not flying across as the risk of being spotted was too great, especially in broad daylight. “How…?” Came her tentative question when observing him scrutinise the trees quite thoroughly. 

 

“I will fling us across.” He replied matter-of-factly and with a tone that indicated he believed it to be no big deal. “Not the first time I have done something like this, though I will have to manage this in a way that we do not break through the walls and just land against them safely.” That was very important since he, for one, did not want to raise any alarms and, for two, did not want her harmed. It was risky… but it was the best way that he saw out of all probabilities.

 

Her jaw almost dropped when she heard that and she had to blink the surprise several times out of her eyes. That sounded… borderline insane and she could not help but see a mental image of them splattered against the stone walls… Shaking her head to get that out of her mind, she drew in a deep breath. “Are you sure this will be safe?” It was a tentative and even worried question that she posed while slowly walking closer to him.

 

“If one calculates this right… yes.” The Second Hellwalker nodded briskly, setting his eyes on her. While much more serious since he was a Soldier on a mission now, that softness deep in his royal blue gaze had not dimmed. “I would not do anything that could potentially harm you.” At the same time, there was no time to waste either, which was why he crouched and motioned with his head to his back. “Hold on to me.”

 

There was a moment of hesitation, especially since Zelda was not stupid. She knew that this was very risky… but she believed him when he said that he would not do anything that could harm her. While, yes, she could be harmed doing this, he would make it so it was harmless to her. With a deep breath, she steeled herself and held on tightly to his back and backpack.

 

Rising back to his feet, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer met her firm gaze and they both shared a silent understanding. All was set. Looking back ahead, it was his turn to draw in a deep breath before launching his grappling hooks out from both gauntlets. They embedded themselves into the trunk after cutting through, latching on as the cable was pulled taut and tensed to its maximum. He leaned back while angling himself before suddenly wrenching himself forward. Like being shot from a cannon, he soared through the air in a slight arch, feeling The Princess’ grip tightening on him the moment they had launched. Thankfully, he had calculated this right and they were not going so fast that they would just smash into the stone. Fighting against the high speed wind battering him, Dynamo brought his feet forward, his boots being the first to hit the wall. Reacting quickly and instinctively, he moved up the wall a few meters in order to dissipate what must have been a tremendous impact. A regular human at peak physical condition would have been rattled by it, to say the very least. Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at Zelda, who was readjusting her grip on him.

 

That was not as bad as she had expected, in all fairness. The momentum had left her slightly shaken but she recovered quickly enough. All of the inertia had been barely felt as well. She knew full well that part of that was due to her training and hybrid physiology. Meeting his eyes when he had checked on her, she nodded with a slight but reassuring smile. She was very much alright, in no small part thanks to him. Though, with how practiced he was with the method, this clearly formed part of his modus operandi when it came to stealth missions. 

 

Quietly, The Mercenary began moving up the wall, his nanofibertech gloves and boots attaching themselves easily to the stone. He was climbing up and to the side, drawn to the shadows until reaching the top of the battlements and vaulting over with deft movements. Smoothly, The Silent Princess slid off his back, crouching next to him and following his lead in observing the inner grounds of the castle. They were… surprisingly empty, save for a few guards walking in disciplined formation. While they were dressed like Knights of Hyrule, they no longer displayed the insignia of the royal family on their chests and shields, having been intentionally left to fade from the cloth or scratched off the metal of their shields. Zelda glanced southwards over the many walls and towards the main gates, the massively reinforced metal and oakwood doors were still adorned with the royal sigil… but it had been worn out by time and faded away. What should have been familiar and comforting was only foreboding now. It was all wrong, ttwisted… a testament to how Coleburn had done the same to her home and family legacy.

 

Dynamo was silent, his heightened senses working overtime picking up every faint sound, every tremor in the air. At the same time, his SMI device was constantly running scans by using sonar-thermal and EMF to fully map out the entire place. By using the visual and correlating that with what he felt, he could get a mostly accurate mental picture of where the points of interest were and where all the patrols were. After all, he was a soldier first and foremost, more than that, he had been trained as a Splinter Cell operative by the very best, one Samuel Fisher, now the second-in-command of the Watchdogs. Even with his upbringing in Realm Alpha, he had been trained to analyze, assess and act with precision at the right time. His royal blue eyes were sharp, scanning the environment with an almost instinctive thoroughness that The Silent Princess had come to trust and even rely upon. As an old saying went… the right person, at the right time, with the right set of skills, could be more effective than an entire army.

 

“There are fewer guards than I would expect.” He murmured in his beard, his voice low, careful not to draw attention. His gaze swept over the area and it seemed like he was looking through the walls, counting the number of guards between the gatehouses leading from the front gate and up to the castle. “Seems like security is not a worry for Coleburn… though he likely thinks the army is with him because he pays them well. So he sends them out to keep people in line. Typical tyrant behaviour… I've seen it too many times…” It was far too early to draw any conclusions on the small number of sentinels, but he still expected the worst, including the possibility of this being a trap to lure them in, however improbable that might be.

 

Zelda nodded while taking in his spoken thoughts, her brow furrowing as she turned her attention to the castle’s towering spires. Her heart ached and her mind raced. How much had changed since Chancellor Coleburn’s insidious rise to power? How much had her kingdom suffered under his reign? She had never imagined this, never thought her parents' peaceful rule would end so abruptly, so brutally. The remnants of their leadership felt like a distant dream, now so easily shattered by a man who cared nothing for her people or her legacy. “I need to know what’s really going on in there.” She broke the silence, her voice tight and controlled as she looked towards where the Sanctum and the Throne Room were located. The quiet determination in her tone was unmistakable. She wanted answers and she needed them now, before she could take the next step forward. “I need to see what Coleburn has done to my kingdom. What he’s done to my people.”

 

Momentarily pausing his process of making a mental and tangible route through the halls on the SMI, he glanced at her, his expression unreadable. He had seen the way her mind worked, how she carried the weight of her kingdom’s troubles on her shoulders, how every decision, every mistake, felt like a personal failure. He understood that drive, that unyielding desire to set things right, but he also knew that such a heavy burden could break someone, could slowly chip away at their spirit. He didn’t want that for her. She had already sacrificed enough. After all, they were very similar in that regard. He knew what it meant to carry the burden of leadership, he knew what it meant to make decisions that could cost countless lives, he knew what it meant to live with mistakes… His whole life's mission was based on that very simple notion. To set right that which he had made wrong and to prevent anyone from going through what he had experienced. “Then we should head to the library first, the archives there could give us a glimpse.” This was just the right opportunity for him to lay out the plan that he had made for them. “After that, I say we check his room for anything incriminating. Lastly… I see many gathering within the throne room and many more coming. Looks like he will hold an audience soon enough… and we do not want to miss that.” His royal blue eyes lifted from the vibranium crystal screen of his SMI to look at her, burning with the drive to avenge what had been done to her.

 

The Silent Princess looked at him, her gaze softening when meeting his as she could clearly see that he comprehended her plight. Of course he did. There were few people that had such… borderline unending understanding. She nodded, taking a deep breath and steeling herself for what they might find. There were suspicions, of course… but nothing compared to holding the evidence in her hands.

 

With a silent nod agreement, the two of them moved toward the northern side of the castle, where the library and archives were. The Second Hellwalker led the way, his movements fluid and quiet, a stark contrast to the usual loudness and brutality of his demonic side. His training, his instincts, were second nature now, he was a ghost even in broad daylight, a shadow moving without as much as a whisper.

 

Zelda followed, her steps light but deliberate, her heart pounding in her chest as they edged closer to their first objective along the castle’s walls. The familiar sight of the Hyrulean stonework was strangely bittersweet though she barely remembered that part of her life. Only a few short years, that was how much she had spent within these walls, learning, growing… until she was suddenly ripped away and cast down into the Cabin. What should have been her home… was foreign to her, far from the place that dwelled within her memories… if that had even ever existed. 

 

When the way forward was blocked, she grabbed onto Dynamo’s back again as he began making his way around the northeastern exterior of the castle by hanging off the wall with nothing but his gloves and boots. Each and every motion had ease behind it and he did not appear to be encumbered at all by having to carry her. They were in far too deep to go back now and he was certain that she would not want to either. For a second, he paused, watching a pair of guards move about below them. Subtly, he drew further into the shadows, shielding her and draping her in the same protective veil that concealed him as well. These people… these guards, he glared at them. If they had any backbone, they would have long risen up against the Usurper, they would have fought to the last in order to not allow him to take the throne. He wondered if it was ignorance or malice that bought their complacency. Two whole decades… it certainly must have felt like there was nothing that anyone could do to change it. There was… a flicker of concern in him, because he knew how significant this was for her and he could feel her tension. They made their way around the outskirts of the castle, avoiding any guards as they crept right above their heads, staying in the cover of shadows even when in broad daylight. Once in a while, there would be a soft rustle of fabric from The Princess’ clothes though it was so quiet that only he would pick up on it. 

 

Steadily, he began making his way upwards and to the roof, the blue tiles having lost some of their luster over time and as they had been battered by the sun and the elements. Dynamo paused for a moment, eyes narrowing as he scanned the area once more with his SMI device then glanced to look up over his shoulder. There was another patrol passing by in their proximity. While it was unlikely that they would spot them, they still had to keep quiet. What was curious was the fact that he did not sense anyone within the library. In fact… the whole place appeared to be isolated. Still, that did not mean there were no entrance points, all they had to do was find a suitable window for a quick infiltration. 

 

At the same time as he, she looked behind them, reaching out with her own senses to feel that there were people passing by on a superior level from where they were. While there was no way that they'd be seen, the fact that they had been so close made her hold her breath until they were away at a safe distance. She had not even realised that she had clung on tighter to The Mercenary until he shifted underneath her grip to look back ahead. While he did not seem to mind it, she briefly looked at him apologetically. 

 

He'd sensed something in her, causing him to look over and meet her gaze… which left him confused as to why she was looking at him like that. For a moment, his brow furrowed then there was a flicker of assurance that all was fine on his end. Indeed… he had not budged when her hold had tightened nor did he mind it. His tolerance was quite high.

 

They moved quickly once the demonic mutant got the sense that they were most certainly in the clear, slipping down the side of the roof and hanging off the wall, climbing to the side towards the nearest window. The air outside grew colder as they entered the shadows again, the smell of water coming up from the large moat stretching out below them. The Princess couldn't help but look down, gauging the distance, her grip on him tightening slightly again though she knew full well that he would not let her fall. Still, that did not stop the thundering of her heart, but she had to press on, her determination to see this through outweighing everything else.

 

As discreetly as possible, Dynamo opened the way inside, his senses constantly on alert to pick up any movement or sound. Slipping inside, his boots touched down on the marble that covered the ground, one of his steps cushioned by the red carpet lining the upper floor of the massive library. The walls of the enormous chamber were lined with torches, though their flames had long gone out and it appeared that they had not been lit in a long time as well. The silence was borderline unnerving, broken only by the sound of The Princess sliding off the demonic mutant's back.

 

She took a few tentative steps before drawing in a deep breath then letting it out for several long seconds as if trying to release the pressure building up inside of her. The library… the place where so much knowledge was kept, including the castle’s archives. While the memory was faded, she did remember that her father had forbidden general access here, with guards being posted at all times near the entrance … Hindsight was twenty-twenty and there was no real way of knowing why. Part of her wondered if Coleburn had something to do with it. Still lost in her musing thoughts, she took a few steps closer to the stone banister, remembered how she would use the secret accessway by way of the docks. Nothing would stop her craving of knowledge, even as a child. However, somehow, there was always someone in her shadow, even in the solitude of the library, she was watched over by him, The Final Knight of the Romanian Kingdom. Those memories made her turn to that same… man… from her childhood. “Let us see what we can find.” She declared as she began making her way over to walk down the stairs to the main level.

 

Chapter 21

The Second Hellwalker gave a nod, that slight nostalgic feeling coming over him as well. Dust motes hung suspended in the air as if they were immune to gravity, drifting in sunbeams that cut through the tall arched windows. The scent of old parchment lingered in the room, though, curiously, he was not picking up on any mold. He remembered from back when she was little, how he would follow her where no one else could reach and how she would oftentimes read from the Hyrule Historia. The First Imprisoning War, The Wind Wizard. The War Across Time, The Shroud of Twilight, The Mirrored Kingdom, there were so many. So many stories written by her forbearers… and all of them were real, because he had seen them with his own eyes, he had lived through a majority of them. Frankly… he was glad to see that this place had not been destroyed, even though the scholarly energy that it had once pulsed with had dimmed, there was always a way to bring it back to life… Just like the rest of this Kingdom. 

 

There was little sound as she placed her steel-toed boot down each step, all was muffled by the old red rug atop the cold marble floor. Her hand slid down the railing as she took in the sight around her and her heart clenched with the pain and weight of the memories. She remembered the long evenings spent here after dinner and studies, how she would succumb to sleep with her head buried among the many pages and parchments. Each time, strong arms would carry her back to her room and delicate hands would tuck her in, hearing a melodious voice humming her lullaby as she dreamed. Reaching the bottom, she took a few hesitant steps forward, her fingertips trailing along the carved edge of an old reading desk. Her hardened emerald eyes moved from the tapestries to the towering bookshelves that lined the walls, each shelf stacked with volumes that had survived this cruel abandonment. Somehow, against the tyranny that had swept across her Kingdom, this place had endured untouched. Whether by the grace of the Goddess or the ignorance of the malevolent ones, it did not matter, a part of her was grateful either way.

 

Dynamo remained silent behind her, his presence solid but patient, royal blue eyes scanning the perimeter with his usual caution. However, that did not mean that he was not paying attention to her. It was a habit of his at this point, even when she was not speaking… he would see the cues in her way of being. In this moment, she was both a woman… yet also the heir of this land. 

 

“They locked me away…” She mused while slowly walking among the tall bookshelves, her hand occasionally reaching out to touch the spine of the volumes she once cherished. “But they didn’t burn this place down.” Her voice became slightly thicker, though there was a note of mirth within it as well. “That surprises me.”

 

“They likely saw no benefit in doing so.” The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer surmised with a scrutinising glance, eyeing the main door while keeping his voice low. “It was already a place that was generally off limits… So Coleburn might have figured that keeping it that way would suffice.” It was only a mere supposition but they were staring at the evidence in the face. Either way, their oversight worked in their favour.

 

She nodded slowly, lips pressed together as she wandered through the large hall. Her fingers stopped on a shelf labeled Royal Annals – Year 124 – 145 A.E. She remembered some of these books, the ones that spoke of the Third Imprisoning War around ten thousand years ago, after the Kingdom of Hyrule had been reestablished following the devastation of the War Across The Ages and the Hell on Hyrule… though she hadn’t truly understood them back then. Now… hindsight was once again putting matters into perspective. 

 

Each and every one of these volumes… they belonged to her now. This was her legacy. Her burden as the Princess With The Blood of the Guardian Goddess.

 

As she traced a hand along the bindings, Dynamo had moved toward the back wall. It was not oftentimes that he left her shadow, especially in an instance such as this one, so that made Zelda pay attention to his motions. He was quiet, but purposeful, as if he knew or he remembered something being there. He placed his gloved hand against the edge of a wide oak bookcase, studying it for a moment with a suspicious look on his face. Indeed, there was something on the ground, markings that had mostly faded though they indicated that the whole thing could be moved to the side. So that was exactly what he did, drawing in a deep breath before planting his shoulder against the side of the bookshelf and pushing with… a measured portion of his might. Just enough to have it budge without making too much noise when scraping against the marble floor. 

 

Indeed… there was something beyond it. A room, small and private, even… cozy under better circumstances. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it… as she had never known that it was there. 

 

The King's Study. 

 

All of the sudden, it all made sense, her father forbidding entry to almost everyone… because this was his retreat within the castle’s walls… Just like she had hers on the old sentry tower that was connected to her old room. A pang of sorrow, longing and even guilt ran through her as she took a few tentative steps closer but not crossing the threshold yet.

 

The hidden room was small and would have been lit only by a few candles though they had clearly not burned in a long time… The natural light from the rest of the library cascaded inside after so long in the dark. A thin coating of dust veiled the furniture like a shroud, an old desk, a bound journal, an old quill with a dried out ink bottle and a cracked leather chair. No one had opened it in a long time and yet… the presence in the room… was still palpable.

 

Dynamo stepped aside to let her through first, watching her carefully and also respectfully. With a shallow but grateful nod to his gesture, she passed through the threshold slowly, as though entering a chapel to the Goddesses. Her eyes went to the wall on her right almost instinctively… and it was right there… 

 

A family portrait. Faded now, its once pearly white frame having lost its luster but the colours were still vivid enough to stir something in her chest. Her father, King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, stood tall and regal, wearing a long brown coat with golden accents on his massive frame. His hair and long beard had long gone white even in this depiction but there was no denying the fierceness of his eyes or the valor that he had when wearing the Crown of Hyrule, with one arm protectively around the Queen, Zelda ‘Tetra’ Nohansen the XIV. Her mother’s eyes were gentle yet proud and she was wearing the same royal dress that would then be passed down to her daughter and fit her perfectly. A more elegant crown adorned her, her braided hair falling over her left shoulder, tied at the bottom with a Gerudic brooch, clearly a gift from a close friend. Between them stood a young girl in a royal blue dress with golden accents and a golden tiara adorning the crown of her head, Zelda, no older than six, holding a bouquet of silent princess flowers.

 

There were no words left for her for a long time… she stared at it for a long time. “They took everything from me…” She spoke at last, the words coming heavily from her lips. “My family… my parents… but they never found this…”

 

It was as if the King had thought of this… The demonic mutant did remember King Rhoam being cautious, just like he was as a Supreme Commander. He stepped inside and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

 

Her eyes lowered before she turned to the desk, not ignoring him as she raised a hand to place it over hers. Dust covered the leather-bound tome that lay atop it… the King’s journal, its royal insignia dulled with time. Her breath caught in her throat as she tentatively stepped closer. She picked it up carefully, fingers trembling just a little. When she opened it, the disturbed dust created a faint cloud of air that made her cough softly, though she regained herself quickly enough. With growing worry, she began skimming through the entries, feeling the looming presence of The Second Hellwalker over her shoulder, his hand still there, anchoring her.

 

Most were political notes, plans that he would brainstorm, worries over the wellbeing of Hyrule. Then… his hand grew more hurried, his writings far less elegant, the Hyrulean characters were more messy. They talked about his suspicions over Chancellor Coleburn and what he had said at a recent council meeting though he hadn't written down the contents of it. 

 

One phrase in particular stood out.

 

I fear my daughter will become a pawn in something darker than I can see.

 

Judging by the date, this was just after The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer had departed… and shortly before her mother's death. The sheer weight of what she had just laid eyes upon… That was when she stopped reading… There were more entries but she just… couldn't go further today. Her hand gripped the book harder and her eyes glistened.

 

Dynamo moved closer, watching her with quiet understanding, hand still resting on her shoulder like an anchor keeping her in the present, keeping her from descending. 

 

She didn’t speak for a moment. Just stared down at the journal with her gaze burning with unshed tears. They had no place here, not now… but that did not mean they were not felt. “He knew…” She whispered in realisation as she slowly closed the journal and brought it closer to her chest. “He knew Coleburn was turning against him... He tried to protect me, didn’t he?” It was a rhetorical question as the answer was all too obvious… all of the answers in that instance. Her father… was unfortunately unsuccessful. “And I still ended up in that Cabin…” Bitterness seeped into her voice… though none of the simmering vitriol was aimed at her father or the demonic mutant standing beside her.

 

“As any father would…” Was all that The Final Romanian Knight could bring himself to say as, inevitably, that sentiment of guilt was clawing its way inside his mind once more. However, having switched to his Soldier side, to his Splinter Cell demeanour for the duration of the , it was not overtaking him, he was in control. Calm. Cold. Calculated. 

 

There was a slow incline of her head while holding the book close to her chest, hugging the last vestiges of her father while hearing his brief words. Her gaze turned to the side of the desk, to the weapon resting on the wall-mounted rack. A Royal Greatsword, normally a two-handed sword yet King Rhoam would wield it in one hand with an uncanny ease. He had never been a King that would just sit on the throne, actively involving himself in defending the land like many of those that came before him. However, after two long decades, it was rusted out, the edge dulled and wavy, eaten away, the golden shine long faded and the purple velvet around the hilt more of a brownish green. 

 

Even with that… Zelda was drawn to it like a magnet, stepping forward and placing a fingerless gloved hand on the hilt. It was cold after all this time and it felt brittle when she had lifted it. With just one hand, she felt it out, the weight oddly familiar despite having never picked it up before this. Though, there was no way that she could use it in combat… it at least gave her an idea upon setting it back in its place. She turned to Dynamo, holding just her journal now, protectively, as if it were made of crystal. “This is his legacy… and the only thing that he could pass to me. I must ensure that everyone knows.”

 

“They will.” He nodded once. “We will make them know.” Then he added rather confidently, giving her shoulders a light squeeze before letting his hands at his sides again. “From my own experience… the truth has a tendency of coming out. Sooner, later, it does not matter, it will always emerge. Every lie spoken incurs a debt to the truth… One that cannot remain unpaid.” Judging by his tone, there was a firm belief in that fact… for he had lived it. 

 

At those words, she gave a small, yet resolute smile, looking up at him. There was real wisdom in his words and she couldn’t be more grateful. However, there was no time to allow the moment to settle between them. They still had to reach their next objective.

Chapter 22

The Mercenary's ears twitched, as did her long pointed ones as if in response, with him moving outside and listening intently. Glancing over his shoulder, he motioned for her to follow him. That was exactly what she did, slipping the journal safely inside the satchel at her belt and sparing the portrait one last look before crossing the threshold back out. Right afterwards, he pushed the bookshelf back into its place, making it as if it had not been disturbed at all. With that done, The Princess clung to his back again as they exited the same way they had come. 

 

Back outside, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer soon climbed through another window in order to enter the large corridors of Hyrule Castle proper. Still hiding in the shadows of the archways, he observed the patrols passing below them. Never once did they look up. No one would have expected them and that was perfect. It was obvious to him that these men had not been trained against stealth operatives, either friendly sessions with the Sheikah.., or against the villainous Yiga fanatics. Setting his mind back to the task at hand, he swung himself with his hand and launched himself against another column. Zelda was clinging firmly all the while to Dynamo’s back, feeling the coldness of the stone castle around them and then the warmth of his form beneath her palms. It was not an actual warmth, she could tell that it was something that went deeper, something that she felt through the bond and filled her from within constantly. Peeking over his shoulder, she watched carefully as well, the walls echoing with distant footsteps that made her pointed ears twitch in order to try and discern how far away or close they were.

 

Dynamo moved like a wraith, scaling parapets and crawling across beams, tracing invisible routes through the castle’s inner hallways. Lanterns flickered along the corridors below, but he always stayed in the shadows, weaving over hanging chandeliers, along beams and atop the rafters like the master of darkness that he had been trained to be. Soon enough, they had reached the spot that they had been looking for and Zelda held her breath when feeling him going still as well. 

 

At last, she broke the silence but it was no louder than a whisper. “Which door?” She asked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the corridor above the royal chambers.

 

Dynamo pointed at a double-arched oak door inlaid with golden accents, fashionably grotesque in the absolutist eye of Coleburn. There was no need for him to speak as that was answer enough. 

 

Far below, a lone guard paced with a lantern, his other hand rested on his Knight's broadsword. Suddenly, he stopped and peered around.., even slightly upwards while lifting the lantern slightly higher. Dynamo tensed and his eyes narrowed dangerously, his body coiled like a tiger prepared to ambush its prey the moment it made a wrong move. The Silent Princess braced against him, watching with bated breath as well. Seconds felt like hours… dragging… then the guard moved on, satisfied that all was quiet and secured… Which meant that he would not get an earful… hopefully.

 

Once they were in the clear, the demonic mutant slid down, his boots making no sound when they touched the ground. Right afterwards, Zelda slid off his back, landing quietly beside him. Together in tandem, they stepped towards the gaudy door leading to the former Chancellor's chambers. He pressed a hand against it, sensing that there was no one beyond it and checking if it was unlocked. Indeed it was, so he slipped inside first, his fierce royal blue eyes quickly sweeping the room several times over in mere moments.

 

Coleburn’s current chambers were located in what had once been a study fit for the Royal Chancellor without it being excessive… However, it now glowed with gaudy excess. Walls were papered in crimson and gold damask that must have come from the Gerudo region, gilded mirrors with Zora crystal frames reflected candlelight in monstrous angles and Rito tapestries almost suffocated the ceiling. Vases of the various Hyrulean cultures lined every surface, gems and golden statuettes glinted in every corner. It was tyranny’s vanity made manifest in the most brutish and disgusting way imaginable. It was almost comical… if it were not for the horrifying implications. Still, there was no time to delay, for in this maze of eccentric opulence, there was only one thing they had come for in this place.

 

It was nestled inside the mahogany desk that was the centrepiece of the room. A heavy and gaudish piece of furniture that was made to exude power. There… where the scent and lingering presence was strongest, had to be a journal or something that would incriminate him even to those that were loyal to him. Zelda moved forward, once again transfixed as she opened up the desk. Her thin fingers shook slightly as she pushed aside a gilded inkwell and lifted the leather-bound ledger. It felt cold, colder than it should have and it was not the pristine leather which bound it that caused that. It was the only thing in the whole room that showed its age and was not gaudy in some form. Flipping through, she found that it was written in a sharp, crisp script, all sorts of thought, plans and schemes… His true self.

 

Part of her wondered why he was the Royal Chancellor in the first place, but, to her surprise, he had actually started out as a decent man, if not troubled by his past. Not even the journal held much in that regard, only that he wanted others to not suffer as he had. Ironic… very ironic. There was a shift over time as his altruistic desires became distorted into a craving for vengeance against the neighbouring Emblem Regions from which he hailed. The home that he felt had wronged him. Further on flipping through the pages, by sheer luck or some sort of divine intuition, she found the entries that preceded the date of her mother's passing.

 

The King and Queen have to be removed… He told me so! He told me… The man… I don't know if he is a man anymore… the eyes… His eyes… Cardinal Tsar of Hell… That's what he called himself… I thought he wasn't real, but he is… he is… Not even the Demon King can compare. He told me, this… being… this God, he told me to kill the Queen and say the King did it. But how!? No one would believe me! But he assured me that they would… 

 

I have to do this… or he will kill everyone in Hyrule! Every man, woman and child! I must save them! Only I can save them! Yes, yes, I can! He, the Cardinal Tsar, he gave me something, told me to serve the Queen’s tea with it. I will, I will! I will do it!!!

 

I will be Hyrule’s Hero!

 

The writing had grown significantly more unhinged after that entry and she flipped through to read the next ones…

 

It… It is done… Queen Tetra died and I managed to spin it so King Rhoam looked guilty. Called it a ‘crisis of faith’. I don't know how no one questioned it… Maybe they were too shocked and they needed the culprit now. It doesn't matter. The Cardinal Tsar is very pleased. I did it!  They even crowned me King for it. He told me that he will meet me again today. I hope that I can finally put all this behind me and turn my attention to the payback I deserve.

 

A flash of anger crossed Zelda's expression and she let out a shuddered breath, dreading what had to be written in the next entry… but she had to know.

 

He wants me to lock away the Princess in a special place… but she is just a child, how can I?!  I am supposed to lure her there… For the safety of all of Hyrule. If I want Hyrule to be safe… I cannot back down now. I've come too far and too close. I will do it. Then I can rule this land in peace and bring about a new age of prosperity. 

 

With growing anger, she flipped the pages to look through the entries that were closer to the present, closer to when she was freed.

 

Two decades… Why is he back? After so long… I thought it was over. The Cardinal Tsar came… and told me… that there is one last thing I must do if I want to make Hyrule safe for all time. I must employ someone called “The Mercenary” to slay the Princess… I thought she was dead. It does not matter, all that matters is that Hyrule will be saved by me. I will be their King and Hero. I will employ The Mercenary, the Cardinal Tsar is facilitating it. After this, it will be over, it will be all over,

 

It will be all over…

 

Coleburn had cataloged every cruel step, his justification of murder and betrayal woven between delegations to quell dissent and maintain appearances. SAVE Hyrule. That was the reason. 

 

Zelda’s breath hitched as she snapped the book shut. She turned and looked up at Dynamo, tears pooling in her eyes but tempered by righteous fury. “It’s all here…” She whispered, holding out the book for him to copy it with his technology since they could not take it with them. “His confession, how he killed mother and blamed father… how he lured me there… how he employed you… everything.” With each word, she could feel herself straining to keep herself together… but she managed to, somehow.

 

A long exhale came from The Second Hellwalker as he took the book in his hands. He walked to the table and set it down before getting his SMI out of its dock on his left gauntlet. Quickly enough, he began scanning it with it, watching as all of the contents were added to the vast archive within the device. Setting it back in its place, he then put the journal back where it had been taken from. They had to leave no trace of their presence, else there was no telling how the Usurper Chancellor would react. Before leaving, he checked to see if all was right and not corrupted. Warfare budgets for the war that he was planning on the Emblem Regions, declarations blaming Rhoam for not helping him, for being too blind to the real enemies, his gradual usurpation of her throne and the last lines detailing the Contract with the Mercenary to ‘Slay the Princess’... all to be save Hyrule.

 

When that could not be further from the truth.

Chapter 23

There were no words from him. He… didn’t feel that any were necessary when turning to her. With a simple yet brisk nod, he confirmed to her that they had gotten what they needed from this place.

 

Ever so subtly, she was shaking, her fists clenched at her sides. “He betrayed everything we stood for… while saying it was for our own good.” She seethed but managed to keep her voice low enough. 

 

Suddenly, her ears twitched and Dynamo moved before she even had time to crouch. His arms were around her, holding her firmly and they were already hanging upside down. Soon enough, a guard opened the door to check inside, pausing at the archway. She curled up around him, carefully watching the guard. Both their eyes were locked on the silhouette as he scanned the chamber. Coleburn’s room was otherwise empty.

 

Zelda’s chest tightened, tensing with anticipation even though she did not wish to battle. She could feel The Mercenary crouch further even when hanging upside down, coiling as well though he was drawing further into the shadows at the same time.

 

After another long moment… the guard left, closing the door and leaving the chamber in silence once again. The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer allowed himself to fall off the ceiling, landing quietly and straightening. He was still listening when setting her down but they found that they were in the clear now. 

 

Safe to say, it was time to go. On top of that, they had to make their way to the Sanctum now. It appeared that everyone was getting ready for the gathering. It was something that neither of them wanted to miss. Once more, The Silent Princess clung to The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer as he slipped through the corridors and back outside. 

 

Even though the sun was out, somehow, the air felt even colder and the light was pale as if overcast. In fact, it did appear that since they had been inside, the skies had begun to darken. Still, that was far from a deterrent as he scaled the stone walls. Just like usual, just like he was trained to, he moved with deliberate precision, his boots making no sound as he climbed, his body a well-practiced machine, muscles tensing and relaxing with each motion, royal blue eyes sharp. Zelda clung to his back, her hands firmly holding his shoulders as the wind rushed past them, whipping her hair behind her. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of uncertainty and determination, the bitter cold air barely registering against the fire burning in her chest. They were this close to getting answers, this close to uncovering what had really happened during those two long decades. Her grip tightened on Dynamo’s back as they neared the top of the castle. The throne room… the Sanctum. Every other second, there would be a subtle exhale from him, one of sheer focus that would make him go even faster and further upwards. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes were drawn to the very top of the castle… where a faded Hyrulean flag was waving in the wind. With one final, calculated push, they reached the top, right onto a balcony that overlooked the throne room below. 

 

They were actually within the bell tower… It had become almost dilapidated from disuse, cobwebs lining the whole of it. However, that made it the perfect vantage point. They could hear muffled voices drifting through the air. They crouched low, hidden in the shadows of the stone pillars, their backs pressed against the cold stone as they peered downwards. The Princess’ heart pounded as she stared out towards the scene unfolding below them. Through the gap in the floor, she could see the flicker of the torchlights that lined the whole interior of the Sanctum and the glimmer of the grandiose throne set at the far end of the room. It had replaced the thrones where he parents once sat and ruled benevolently from. That gaudy, garish piece of furniture… At least he had kept the sculpture behind it but it was covered in gold, making it shine to a sickening extent… There… he was right there… Coleburn… the usurper, the traitor… wearing the crown that had once belonged to her father.

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer was utterly silent, but his eyes were not on what was happening below. Instead, they were on her, carefully watching to see how she was holding up. In all fairness… he couldn't help but respect her stalwartness and focus. She'd learned her lessons well… noting how her eyes narrowed and ears twitched. Shouts came from below, drawing his attention back to the scene unfolding within the Sanctum. Immediately, he did the same as she had, tuning in to the conversation within the room, his enhanced hearing picking up on the nuances of each voice. 

 

With each passing moment, the voices grew clearer. There was a fairly decent gathering of people, several dozen in fact. There were significantly more soldiers than villagers… It was troubling to say the least. Further observing, those that were villagers did not look healthy, their clothes were ragged and faces tired, but there was something in their eyes and the way they carried themselves… Their will and hope was still in them, even after so long. 

 

“Your Majesty, we are starving!” A woman’s voice called out, trembling with both fear and hope. Several shouts came from those few with her, voices raw and desperate. “Our children have nothing to eat, and we have no means of feeding them. The crops have failed, the harvests are barren.” Her voice broke but she still beseeched their ruler. “Please, we beg of you… can you help us?”

 

The Wild Princess’ breath hitched at the sound of the woman’s plea. Her people, her kingdom, her family… she had failed them. Every face, every village, every cry for help they had suffered while she was in the Basement of the Cabin. There was nothing that she could have done to prevent it and that sense of helplessness which was consuming her. All of it had happened… No, she could not wallow in her sorrows and guilt anymore, she couldn't allow herself to drown in fear. In the here and now, she had the power to set it right. She had the capacity to set it right and she absolutely would. Beside her, The Mercenary's jaw clenched in silent fury, his royal blue gaze hard and unwavering. Just like always, he could feel Zelda’s pain and it only made his resolve deepen. He had sworn to protect her, to fight for her, for all of eternity and this… this twisted mockery of the royal family that he respected, he could not allow it to stand. At the same time, they could not rush this, else the casualties would be unimaginable. From their vantage point, he could see the way the peasants shifted uneasily, their desperation painted on their faces.

 

Before any answer could come from the one that was practically lounging on the throne, flanked by two distinct figures. One was a mountain of a man, dressed in black plate armour, his face obscured by the helmet he wore. The other was the advisor and King's hand, dressed similar to the royal guard of old except in all white, his skin as pale as porcelain. Both were impassive though there was no compassion to the… borderline glee that the Chancellor turned King had on his face. They had come to the wrong king for salvation. 

 

Coleburn’s reply was chilling in its calmness. “You speak of hunger…” His voice was cold and calculated, not unlike how The Final Knight would be… but there was a stark difference between the two. His head rested against his white gloved palm, orange eyes observing. “Your suffering, while tragic, is necessary if we want our armies to be prepared for what is to come. “This kingdom… my kingdom… It needs to prepare.” His brow furrowed, the blue tattoos on the right side of his face over his eyebrow scrunching with the motion. “It’s the price we all lay for everlasting peace.” He lifted a few fingers to adjust the crown resting on his neatly cut orange haired head. “You want food? You want your families to survive? Then we all must pay the price for it.” His tone grew sinister as he leaned forward on the throne, looking down on them. “Work for me. Serve me. And, I promise you, in time, you will see relief.”

 

Zelda’s stomach churned at his words and demeanour. There was no compassion, no warmth, nothing but cold calculation and self-interest in his voice. It was painfully obvious that he wasn’t a king, he was a tyrant, a parasite feeding off the people’s suffering in order to further his own goals.

 

His eyes narrowed, his hands tightening into fists before opening back up in order to keep himself contained for the time being. He could feel the wave of bitterness rise within him, the righteous fury that coursed through his veins. It was not just the fact that he was a mockery of a leader in the eyes of The Supreme Commander. This man, this thing sitting on her father’s throne, did not deserve to breathe the air of their beloved Hyrule. Not after everything he had done to all of these good people.

Chapter 24

“The people have suffered enough! And for what!?” One of the peasants cried out, his voice trembling with indignation as a few others shared the sentiment. “We’ve given everything! Please, Your Majesty, don’t turn your back on us!”

 

‘King’ Coleburn’s gaze shifted to the peasant and, for a moment, there was a flicker of something dark beneath his expression. Then, it was gone, replaced by a cold smile as he rubbed at his perfectly clean-shaven chin. “You’ve given everything…” Coleburn repeated, his voice eerily calm. “And, for that, Hyrule is grateful.” While speaking, his position shifted, the white fur on his right shoulder. “But… keeping peace is hard… and we all need to give more.” Slowly, he leaned back on the red cushion of his throne and placed his fingers together. I am your king and… you will follow my orders or… Hyrule will be engulfed in eternal darkness, consumed as you rot in your misery. The choice is yours.”

 

Zelda felt her heart shatter at the callousness in his voice, at the casual cruelty he exhibited. She had spent so many years believing that the throne, that power, meant something sacred, that the royal family had a divine right to it and that meant it was her responsibility to protect and guide her people, not to rule them with an iron fist. All that history, all that legacy… and this wretched man had corrupted everything she had held dear. Her kingdom, her people, her legacy… it was all being destroyed before her very eyes, under the rule of someone who couldn’t care less for the lives he was ruining. She felt The Final Knight's hand rest lightly on her shoulder, a subtle gesture of support that she should have expected but still appreciated. He didn’t need to say anything. His presence was more than enough, his strength, his unwavering support, the determination that was always in those royal blue eyes of his. She lifted her hand and placed it over his but her eyes were still glued on what was happening below.

 

Dynamo didn’t respond verbally, his mind focused on the scene unfolding before them. As the peasants slowly began to lower their heads in defeat and succumb to despair… there was one figure that remained with his head held high. While definitely not the most robust or tallest out of them… he was a weathered man with plenty of wisdom beyond years. His expression was full of defiance, clearly, he was one of the people who remembered how it was under the old rule.., under King Rhoam's rule.

 

“Your Highness…” The man spoke with a rasp to his words, his voice unwavering despite his age, “We will not bend to your will. The people of this land will never bow to you. You cannot disgrace the Goddesses like this!”

 

The Usurper King's smile faltered, turning into a scowl as his eyes narrowed with a touch of irritation. “You’ll regret those words.” Came his cold words as his eyes narrowed… then his lips curled into a sinister smile. “Benun…” At the mention of that name, the Black Bodyguard that stood to the right of the throne turned his helmet ever so slightly, listening intently. “Take him to the Dungeons.” But then he got a better idea, his grin widening at the prospect as he turned to the King’s Hand. “Varre… take all of them there.” With his order given, he leaned back on the throne with visible satisfaction. 

 

That edict had been given loud enough for them to hear as well. Sensing the impending danger, the crowd began to draw closer together, a futile attempt at keeping themselves safe. The guards had already encircled them, drawing out their swords and holding their shield up to push them further together. The Black Knight that was Benun came down the steps, towering a whole head and shoulders over all of them. His left silver gauntleted arm was raised, a contrast to the rest of his dark plating, and seized the defiant one, wrenching him out of the crowd and throwing him to the ground. 

 

With a yelp and thud, the elder man stumbled to the ground, trying to lift himself up on shaking hands. A look of fear was grafted on him, but he did not regret his words for a moment. Soon, he was surrounded by four more guards, their rough hands gripping onto each of his limbs and hauling him off.

 

Varre had descended as well, his pale complexion looking at the crowd of peasants… impassively, hands clasped quite elegantly behind his back. With a single nod, the guards seized each and every one of the villagers, no matter their protests and screams, no matter how they resisted, they were all quickly subdued. One of the guards came up to the King’s Hand and they exchanged a few words to which the both of them nodded. Soon after that, all of them were being hauled out of the Sanctum. 

 

There was nothing that they could really do from their vantage point but watch… and The Silent Princess could not help but feel the guilt rise in her… as well as righteous anger. They needed to remain hidden… but she swore to herself that she would save them. With one last glance at the group being taken away. “He just-… How could he-...?” Her harsh whisper caught in her throat as she gritted her teeth. “This will not stand…”

 

Dynamo nodded, his expression dark but resolute as he shifted his position. “We will not.” Once again, he promised that to her before muttering in his beard. “But we have to be patient… expose him and then we can give him a proper trial.” There was an edge to his tone when he had said that, his mind already conjuring up… plans… for their inevitable confrontation. 

 

As they crouched in the shadows, Zelda’s mind was spinning with the gravity of the situation. She knew that it was bad but this was beyond anything she could have imagined. Coleburn was not just ruthless and a despot, he was absolutely unhinged, insane in his delusions of being some sort of saviour. He would stop at nothing to solidify his power, even if it meant sacrificing the very people who had once sworn allegiance to him. She knew, with unshakable certainty, that she could never allow Hyrule to continue down this path and with The Mercenary by her side, she would not rest until she had taken back everything that was rightfully hers. Everything that was rightfully Hyrule’s.

Chapter 25

Back inside the throne room, the torchlights flickered across polished marble floors, red carpets and grand pillars, illuminating the weary and fearful faces of the departing crowd and glinting off the armour of the guards escorting them. The Silent Princess and Second Hellwalker remained hidden in the shadows of the bell tower right above. The tension in the air was still palpable, still pulsing with the echoes of the Usurper Chancellor's ruthless edicts. However, Dynamo’s senses were ablaze as he tracked one figure in particular. He recognized the figure standing watch, the one who actually issued hushed commands to the guards. There was no denying the cold calculation in this man's eyes as well as the maximum profession with which he was carrying himself. 

 

Varre was his name.

 

Zelda noticed where he was looking and she tracked it as well. That man… she did know him. Under her father's rule, he had been the Governor and representative of the Central Hyrule region. Quite the formidable man, but now… she saw him beside the Usurper King and helping him. In her eyes… he was just as complicit as everyone else in this castle.

 

However, The Supreme Commander knew a whole lot better. It was not the whole story. Varre was so much more than Coleburn’s right hand man and accomplice, he was a double-agent part of the Intel Team stationed and F.O.B. Of course, since this was all internal affairs, there was no way they could intervene directly yet that never meant they could not… keep tabs on matters. Which was exactly why he had infiltrated this place since two decades ago… with no one knowing but him and King Rhoam. It was their secret… but it had died with him. So he remained a double agent until now. While no one could have heard it… Dynamo did. Varre had given a very specific set of commands. That meant he had an exit plan for the prisoners, likely taking them out via the docks. Which meant that quite a number of guards were in reality loyal to the real leader, to the rightful royal family, they were just waiting for the right moment. 

 

His hand lifted and it was on her shoulder again. “Look.” He directed in a stern whisper, pointing at the King’s Hand. “See him? See the way he is looking around?” Came his inquiries to open her mind to the possibility… that maybe not all were traitors down there.

 

Zelda stared, realization dawning as she moved closer to him and observed carefully. Even now, there was a sense that there was something different about that man indeed. “He saved those people, you mean…” She murmured while watching Varre cast a fleeting glance to the ceiling, as if he knew that he was being watched. “He protected them.” There was a hint of relief at the realisation that there were still good people willing to do what was right. 

 

Dynamo nodded and continued. “Indeed… You do not know this, but he has been a double agent for a long time. Only I and your father knew.” He revealed, his eyes watching her expression for any shifts, but she remained hardened in the same way he would. “Varre is a Watchdog, one of the most skilled infiltrators I've seen and his loyalty is unquestionable.” There was a hint of pride for the men among his ranks and especially for such a distinguished individual. “Not all of the guards like Coleburn… and he is waiting for the right signal to start the rebellion from within.” Anticipation lined each and every quietly spoken word, very much calculating in his approach. After all, nothing would be more satisfying than doing maximum damage to ‘King’ Coleburn in one fell swoop, destroying him in body, mind, spirit, reputation, everything.

 

The Wild Princess’ jaw tensed and she scowled, nails digging into the palm of her hand as righteous, borderline vengeful anger smoldered within her veins. “If he was loyal to my father… then he is loyal to me.” She nodded towards The Second Hellwalker next to her, lifting her hand to place it over his briefly before staring back down again. “There is something I must do… We are not finished here yet.” She declared with a darkening expression while observing the Sanctum steadily being cleared… and Coleburn soon to be all alone on the throne.

 

With a careful gaze, he watched her… understanding her thirst for retribution and vengeance for The Slayer within had a similar unquenchable one. “Understood.” He gave a brisk incline of his head while reassuring once again. “I am right beside you.” While he did not know what she might be planning, he knew that it was better to go through with it and temper any outbursts than keep it all under a lid and force her to leave. 

 

Zelda’s lips pressed thin as she spoke lowly and with an increasingly foreboding tone. “I will make him see… I will show him the fruits of his labour… Everything that he has done… He will reap what he has sowed.” The bitterness of her words was nearly palpable and her anticipation mounted. Soon… very soon. “ They will all see what kind of king he is….”

 

The clatter of armour and sabatons echoed from the outside progressively as they stepped along the massive and wide stone stairs. The last of the guards were filling out, escorting the group of peasants while also dragging Coleburn’s defiant prisoner at the front of the procession. Then the massive doors began to swing closed… before doing so with a booming thud, like fate had been sealed. The entire Sanctum and the throne room were now filled with… emptiness, even Benun had been ordered out. There was only an echo of what had happened lingering in the atmosphere, one that was destined to soon be forgotten. 

 

No one was left… but him… the one and only, the magnificent, the magnanimous… ‘King’ Coleburn. He rubbed his white gloved hands together, glancing to where his right-hand man should stand. Candles and torches flickered in the pale light, a few faded streams beading through the opened spaces along the ceiling. His face was illuminated for an instant, a wide grin twisting his lips, somewhere between triumph and madness.

 

In the end, it was quiet. All calm and quiet… No one to question his absolute reign.

 

The atmosphere of the throne room was heavy with its silence, almost to the point that it was suffocating, but its sole occupant did not seem bothered in the slightest. From the shadows above, The Princess rose to her feet letting out a long breath in order to keep herself restrained. Her emerald blue eyes began to glow ever so slightly more towards green as they narrowed with a focused intensity that few living could withstand. Her golden hair glimmered faintly looking like sun reflections caught by the massive bell in the dying light of the day.

 

Dynamo straightened as well, adjusting his gloves and gauntlets, silently stepping back and vanishing into the far shadows of the supporting archways. “I will keep watch.” He promised as he began to be draped in blackness. “Make sure no one sees you.” Then he was completely gone… but his presence lingered, able to be felt only by her.

 

She nodded once, grateful, trusting her safety in his capable hands without a second thought. Then, with a long exhale, she turned back toward the throne room. The Silent Princess stilled herself, calming her mind and letting a shroud of cold detachment fall upon her. She placed her hands together, fingers interlocking in a precise gesture that was reminiscent of a triangle. A faint light gathered between her palms, not to blind but to focus her own energy, soft and distant as the stars in the sky. Her breath slowed and she could feel each beat of her heart, allowing the sound to fill her ears. Focusing on it, she had it slow down, drawing breaths in and out at lengthened intervals in order to centre herself. The very air around her seemed to thrum faintly with divine energy as she meditated in order to make her plan work. Beneath her closed eyelids, her eyes began to glow faintly.

 

She spoke no words aloud and none within… However, the illusion spell began to be conjured. She needed to be careful within, to make it seem like all was normal at the onset. Pouring her energy into the light between her palms, she slowly extended her hands to the side, allowing the sphere to expand. So, it began to unfurl, the radiant sphere that was invisible to most people and mortals especially pulsing outwards and catching anyone within the Sanctum into its trap.

 

Anyone being in this case just one victim. The desired victim. The so-called King himself.

Chapter 26

Coleburn blinked and furrowed his brow. Once. Nothing seemed odd so he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked once more… but his eyes felt… funny. Blinking again, he didn’t notice a change at first… At least not significantly. It was just as if… the time of day had shifted suddenly and the sun was hidden behind clouds. For all intents and purposes the throne room looked the same… and yet… at the same time… not.

 

The golden inlays seemed duller... The marble beneath his boots colder, as though something had shifted in the very air of this place. The great stained-glass windows behind him had begun to fog over, as though a winter storm were pressing against the castle’s walls. He frowned and shifted in his seat. That did not make any sense, it was not even close to winter. Something was wrong.

 

No guards. No courtiers. No footfall beyond the great doors of the Sanctum. 

 

"Benun?" He called out loud and shifted to sit straighter on his throne… waiting expectantly and yet… “Benun!?”

 

No answer. His bodyguard always answered without delay. His voice fell flat. No echo. One by one, the sconces that had burned along the walls and pillars flickered. Then, one by one, they went out. He blinked at the sight, frowning and baring his teeth. A fine chill threaded the air, invisible yet pressing down all around him. He looked down at his hands on his lap… carefully pulling off one glove. Were they pale? Were they shaking?

 

The silence deepened all around him but not the silence of emptiness, instead this was dense, the oppressiveness of the walls of a world that was closing in on all sides. A deathly hush falling upon anything and everything, muting any and all sounds into a maddening silence. All too soon, the cold spread all throughout the Sanctum. 

 

Just beyond the veil of the illusion, The Wild Princess sat cross-legged, her eyelids opened and golden eyes lit with sacred judgment. In her mind's eye, she could see him clearly now as if she was on the ground floor, his body slacking upon the throne though his spirit walked the illusion, trapped in the spell and with no way to escape.

 

“There you are…” She whispered to the air, her words haunting and echoey as they left her lips. “I have you… little bug…”

 

Behind her, The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer cast a glance over his shoulder, temporarily pausing from scanning the ramparts below them and all around for movement or anything that could potentially spot them. His left hand lifted up and he looked to his SMI device, scanning in multiple spectrums for any patrols, memorising their location and keeping track of them with his senses. Nothing nearby. They were alone for the time being.

 

A chilling wind blew across the mindscape once again, the illusion deepening Coleburn’s senses. But… it was not wind, it was the coldness of memories. He felt the very cold of the Cabin, the frozen, stale air of the Basement. He saw the shadows slithering across the corners of the throne room, as if figures were there, but they could not. He was alone.

 

He was all alone.

 

Zelda waited with growing anticipation. The trap was set. She would speak soon… but not quite yet. First, he would feel what she felt, what her people felt. He would shiver, he would burn, he would grove… then… he would understand… and, finally, he would beg for mercy when there would be none left to give..

 

The throne room lay quiet… too quiet… as if this moment was to be frozen in time forever. 

 

That would prove to be both metaphorical and literal as the very atmosphere in the throne room had become brittle, little crystalline bits floating freely in a cold that would bite to the bone. Every breath Coleburn took came out in wisps of fog, hastening with every passing second as it infiltrated his body. The great sculptures and carvings above and behind him had darkened in an unnatural way, draped in a sort of black icy frost that crackled ever so faintly under the weight of gathering dread spreading all throughout the Sanctum.

 

He stood up from the throne slowly, the cold having sunk even into the garish seat itself, so cold that it was burning to sit upon. The rich and extravagant golden-bronze jacket that cloaked him felt like paper now, the fur over his shoulder like a puff of small feathers, all flimsy, ineffective against this strange,  unnatural winter that had suddenly descended upon his world. Taking a few steps towards the stairs leading to the heart of the Sanctum, he felt an odd hush settle in the air, as if there were countless eyes watching from a place he could not see… Sounds that he could not hear, all coming towards him…

 

When suddenly-

 

KNOCK.

 

It came from the grand double doors at the far end of the Sanctum. A single, deliberate pounding sound unlike anything he had ever heard.

 

KNOCK.

 

Another one. A terrifying tremor rode up through the marble floor, up the columns and into his boots, echoing in his very joints and bones.

 

KNOCK.

 

The third blow reverberated like a thunderclap within a vicious storm on the Hebra Mountains  rippling through the air with grim anticipation. With each beat, the torches flickered lower, drowned by an unseen yet certainly felt wind that chilled to the core. It made Coleburn take a step back, his heart hammering in his chest, veins pulsating along his temple as he gritted his teeth. Something primal stirred in the back of his mind as if a neanderthal part of him recognised that whatever was on the other side must not be allowed to enter. 

 

However… and unfortunately for The Usurper King… there was no stopping it… there was no escaping it. This was his fate and no one would save him from it. No one.

 

The doors made a horrible groaning sound… but it was not the creak of disuse… No… it the anguished sound of the hinges being forced by a will beyond measure alone. They swung open… and there, right at the threshold, stood Princess Zelda… or… No, she could not be here, she was supposed to be dead! She was dead! It was impossible. 

 

Impossible… but it all was all too real to his perception.

 

She stepped across the threshold with deliberate slowness, her form gaunt, pallid and pale as a corpse beneath the tattered remnants of her once-sacred white gown. Her skin hung loose and colorless over protruding bones, her limbs too thin to belong to the living, the muscles that should have held up her form completely atrophied. Her sandy golden hair had dulled to strands of grey flax, brittle and lifeless, blowing ominously like some sort of unholy crown despite the absence of wind. Chains clattered from the restraints around her thin wrists and neck. Her eyes… though… her eyes still burned brightly, more alive than ever before. Not with warmth, nor with fury, but with something far, far worse than either. An edge of knowing that was close to omniscience… and a cold lust for pure vengeance beyond the deepest reaches of the Dark World itself, nigh unquenchable. The cracked skin on the soles of her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the stone, but whitish golden coloured frost bloomed in the shape of her steps, the ice spreading like vines behind her. It overtook the floor, the carpets, the columns, the walls, crawling right up to the ceiling. 

 

Witnessing such an unbelievable, absolutely nightmarish sight, Coleburn stumbled back a step on the marble stairs as he was right at the bottom of them, clutching at the railing at the last moment. His jaw dropped as he pulled himself up, disbelief overtaking his features as he shouted desperately. “No!” He croaked with a mad look overtaking his features. “No! No, that’s not possible! You—”

 

Her voice, when it came and cut off his feeble protest against what he saw before his very eyes, was far from her gentle tones… It was akin to dead leaves being scraped against a gravestone. “Did you truly think your sins would rot with me?” There was a disturbing smile stretching the skin of The Nightmarish Princess as she posed that first question. While it was rhetorical… she was very intrigued to hear what answer the snake could possibly come up with.

 

The Chancellor turned King's face contorted in a snarl as a ragged breath escaped. “You're dead!!!” He spat in defiance and outrage as he took a step back up, hand grasping at the balustrade to his side to pull himself faster. “You should be dead!!!” No, there was no way that she was here, this had to be some sort of trick. She was trying to get him from beyond the Ghostly Ether. Some sort of corrupted Shade. “I made a contract with The Mercenary! He was supposed to—”

 

Zelda said nothing but that unhinged tilt of her head was enough to cut him off again. She only continued forward, arms and hands hanging slack at her sides, shoulders hunched over and drooped, as if every movement was her urging her own body forward like it was some sort of marionette wielded by the chains that once held her imprisoned in that Cabin. However, her gaze was unrelenting, fixed upon him like the white glare of the Grim Fierce Deity Reaper at the end of the longest three days spoken of in myths and legends… filled with a divine thirst for retribution.  

 

“You—!” Somehow, he'd found the will to speak, but his voice broke now, a tremor running through it. Still, his eyes bulged with fury more than they did with fear, with absolute denial despite the irrefutable truth. “You can’t be here! You can’t!” Ironically… he was not entirely wrong but that knowledge, even if it was confirmed, was highly unlikely to make any sort of difference and save him from this waking nightmare. 

 

Behind her, the doors slammed shut, sealing Coleburn’s fate by locking him in the Sanctum with The Crone of the Princess. Right afterwards and with frightening speed, the unnatural pale golden frost raced up their panels, sealing them in a glacial prison of her making.

 

The Usurper King's breathing quickened as the dread settled in, backing away further up the stairs… towards the throne that he had fashioned for himself yet never belonged to him in the first place. With orange eyes that had a mix of fear, fury and insanity, he watched The Nightmarish Princess advance towards him, relentlessly, the clatter of the chains growing ever foreboding. All around him, the temperature of the air within the Sanctum had collapsed to below zero, the kind that existed only in the furthest and deepest reaches of the land. Though… it was not just cold… it felt more and more like tainted divinity. The temperature was quickly dropping past discomfort and even past agony, reaching a spiritual coldness that seemed to freeze the very depths of his soul.

 

At this point, she had reached the foot of the stairs, watching him as he crawled up and up the stairs with wide, bulbous eyes, her irises unnervingly still and her stare hollow. Her skin was a pale grey now, the veins spreading across her face, neck and wherever her skin could be seen in faint spiderweb of blue-black just beneath the surface. Her lips were tinged violet and they did not move when she spoke, eternally frozen in the shape of that dreadful grin showing pointed, draconian teeth… And yet, Coleburn heard her voice… She was inside his mind, even in the deepest, most intimate corners.

 

“You locked me away in that place.” Her hissing whisper filled his ears, causing a shiver to run up his spine as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. “For the good of the Kingdom of Hyrule, you kept saying. For the sake of the people.” She spat before a forced, disjointed laugh echoed several times.

 

The Usurper King's white gloved hands were trembling violently now, his short breaths coming out on white puffs. He backed away from The Nightmarish Princess all the way to the throne to steady himself but found the stone had grown strangely wet upon touching it. When he looked in confusion to see why that was, he found that it had been coated in that same thin film of whitish golden frost along with… something darker… viscous and dark red… like blood drained from veins. “I had to!” He barked through gritted teeth, his voice cracking against the silent weight of her piercing, judgemental gaze. “You don’t understand, I made the only choice that could save us. If I hadn’t acted, Makarov would have—” 

 

Something cut him off before he could further justify himself. A low keening hum had just begun filling the room with the sound of ten thousand whispers all at once. The walls of the throne room began to darken, the frost covering the stone becoming like black glass, reflective like mirrors. From every surface, Coleburn began to see faces… Reflections not of himself, but of those he had wronged.

 

A frail mother clutching a malnourished child that had come to him begging for relief. Benun, on his orders, had taken them both away… and they were never heard from again. 

 

On the other side of the Sanctum… The elders of Mabe Village with rope burns around his neck from when Coleburn had granted him ‘mercy’ and didn't hang him when the fall from the gallows had failed to break his neck. All due to their initial refusal to give over their livestock and goods to him. With a grin, the, at the time, new King had watched Benun the Darkened and several Hyrulean Knights execute as he'd ordered.

 

Of course… not all soldiers were pleased with the change in leadership and what Coleburn had them do. However, the dissidents were dealt with quickly by the same bodyguard dressed in black armour. All too soon and one after another, any dissenters had found them to writhing beneath the same massive sabaton and forced to swear fealty or rot away in the dungeons beneath the Castle.

 

And among them, among all that suffering and despair… there was the young Princess Zelda again, imprisoned in the Basement of that cursed Cabin, curled, chained and starving, her emerald blue eyes bloodshot and wide with betrayal, dried tear streaks staining her cheeks.

 

“Stop!” The Chancellor turned King growled and seethed, closing one of his eyes as he held the side of his head with one hand. “You have no right! Stop this!”

 

At those words, as if they were her cue, the Crone that had been Zelda finally moved, taking a single step forward. When her sandal touched the ground, the air shrieked like a banshee's scream, grating and nearly causing his ears to bleed. She raised her right hand, her long, thin fingers with freakishly long nails splaying outwards. Suddenly, the whispers and jeers stopped… but the silence that followed was way worse. When it returned, her voice was no longer even close to human but the voice of a betrayed and wronged Goddess bringing down her rightful judgement and sentence. “You tell yourself it was for the greater good.” Her tone was mocking towards his reasoning for all of this suffering. “That you were clever, pragmatic. That I was a sacrifice you could live with.” It was what hurt the most… and what drove her to hurt him more in return. With growing menace, her sandaled steps clicked against the blackened golden coloured ice covering the floor and with every one she took, the illusion that she had trapped him in twisted further.

 

His precious throne blackened into nothing but an abyssal void as the windows shattered inward though no wind blew, their shards remaining suspended in midair, sharp edges glinting. The banners of Hyrule began to rot and decay, their very threads coming undone as if they had come alive and they too had judged Coleburn unworthy of holding the throne of the Kingdom.

 

However, even in the face of all of this, even when subjected to the sins of his rule, somehow… by some measure of madness… The Former Chancellor did not relent from his downright manic relief, shaking his head insistently as his fury grew more than his fear. “You petulant child!!!” He even had the gall and bravery, if it could be called that, to insult his tormentor. “You don’t know what I was facing!” He shouted, the veins of his neck and temple showing from the intensity of his delivery. “You know who the Cardinal Tsar is! Vladimir Nero Makarov! You know what they call him! The Butcher of Realms! He would've gutted this kingdom and dragged us all to Hell itself while gleefully declaring that he was saving us from a crueler fate!” The… irony of that was lost on him… or he truly believed his words. “I did what had to be done to save us all!!!”

 

At those… staunch declarations… Zelda merely tilted her head as if her neck had been broken, her decaying form impossibly calm as her icy lips parted with a simple yet burning question. “And when you put me in chains?”

 

Almost immediately, he had opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out, because she cut him off instantly. 

 

“When you ordered my people to kneel, their cries silenced under your laws?” Her tone grew in intensity as she further closed the gap between them, the sound of weeping and wailing beginning to echo all around him. “When you left Mabe Village, Lon Lon Ranch and so many other villages to starve while you gorged yourself in your little, pathetic court on golden platters?”

 

He gritted his teeth in the face of her demanding tone, stanging against the manta black throne with clenched fists. “I couldn’t stop all of it!” In his mind, he still held the firm belief that he had done everything right. Since he was in a position of privilege… There was no reason not to… indulge a bit. “Do you think I wanted this?” He demanded, referring to the outer realm threat that had required him do all of this. 

 

Even closer… The Nightmarish Princess moved even closer, now only a few meters from him, looming over the little snake. Her presence reeked of death and divinity that was not right, her form blackened yet her dead eyes glowed pale gold like scorching suns. “And yet you did as well. Over and over again.” Her quick retort came in a voice that was unnervingly calm and collected, yet small, like an innocent child's. A statement made matter-of-factly, a truth that could not be denied.

 

“HE WOULD HAVE BEEN WORSE!”  The Usurper King roared in defiance, voice ragged and eyes wide yet it was clear that his fear of The Butcher of Realms was greater than the fear of The Crone of the Princess. “I SAVED THEM FROM HIM!”

 

Zelda took one final step that brought him within arm's reach… but she didn’t strike him nor did she unleash her sacred power on him. She didn’t scream... she only whispered ominously. “Then why does it feel like they still need saving?”

 

To that… Coleburn had no answer, but his orange eyes still held a firm belief as he watched her unnatural form floating there, looming over him, trapping him with no escape. His mouth went dry and throat tightened, his chest tightened, every single muscle in his body contracted, holding him in place. That was when all the whispers returned, sounding out from every wall and infiltrating into the very depths of his skull, clawing and violating their way inside. Hundreds… No, it was much more. Thousands of voices. Children. Mothers. Fathers. Elders. Dead. Living. Dying. All crying out in anguish, for salvation and deliverance from this agony. 

 

All crying out in accusation.

 

He dropped to his knees under the weight of it all, gripping the icy stone as if he could claw his way out of it. “Make it stop!” He gasped while staring at the reflection in the black ice beneath him, seeing her distorted expression doing the very same. “You… have no right!”

 

The only thing that came was the sound of Zelda’s breath beside his ear, colder than the grave. “You made that contract… with The Mercenary… Tried to make the closest ally of the Royal Family end its last heir.” That unnerving calmness remained as her voice became sickly sweet, her sharp toothed grin splintering her countenance. “All because… you decided. .. you were worthy to save Hyrule from The Butcher of Realms.” Her decayed, spindly hand reached out towards his face… Not to strike, but to show him, to make him feel every single agonising moment that she had spent locked away in that Cabin.

 

Instantly, The False King let out a horrifying shriek that made his throat run raw due to its sheer intensity. Foaming at the mouth, he tried to jerk his body out of that vicious hold that The Crone of the Princess had on him, but it was to no avail. Every time he protested, every time he threw The Butcher of Realms’ name into the air like a shield, Zelda’s illusion warped further around him, feeding off his fear like a vengeful Goddess lusting for this retribution. The throne room itself had become completely unrecognizable as the once-familiar walls of pale stone and imposing columns now bent inward, slanting at impossible angles as if reality itself was being bent at her simple whim. Any banners that had been hung were now nothing more than tendrils, swaying and dissolving into the thin air like ichor…. As if they were bleeding. The middle of the Sanctum had been seemingly transfigured into a beating, like the castle had come alive and was showing its suffering under the dreadful rule of The Chancellor turned King. It was beating… slowly… arrhythmically, the atriums and ventricles not synchronising properly. It was dying.

 

Coleburn's breath staggered, his hands clawing at his own temples as he attempted to rip her hand from his skin, but it was fused to it. “You don’t understand!” He hacked in protest. “He would have burned it all! Dragged us all to Hell! Makarov’s armies, the legions of the Cardinal Tsar, he leads them as he  flays whole Realms to feed on the Essence of their souls!”

 

Zelda’s decayed form stood unmoved in the chaos, her bulbous emerald blue eyes reflecting nothing of his hysteria, only his sins. The throne behind him was not the royal seat of Hyrule now, it had become nothing but a void, twisted and misshapen, swallowing every single speck of light like a black hole. Nothing could escape from it. In the shards of ice floating in the air, there were visions of the people that Coleburn had damned, not just Hylians, but Rito, Goron, Zora and Gerudo, everyone was suffering due to his actions. They whipped past him, absorbed by the void of the throne but their echoes remained.

 

“A fate even worse than death would have befallen them…!!!” Coleburn whispered through gritted teeth, still clinging to his mad belief, sweat mixing with the strange pale golden frost on his brow. “I did what no one could! I made the choices their hearts were too weak to make…” He still seethed and grunted despite the pain that she was actively inflicting on him. “I saved them—”

 

“By killing what made them worth saving?!” She demanded of him, her hold on him unrelenting as he screamed once more. It was not untrue to say that… she wanted him to feel that way. She wanted him to feel pain like she had, agony like her people were feeling. 

 

Somehow, the atmosphere grew even heavier and all light seemed to vanish from the throne room save for the grotesque glow radiating from The Nightmarish Princess’ half-rotted form. And then came the laughter… that horrible laughter that came from the walls, the shadows and even from beneath the floor. Giggles twisting into menacing wails that were ripped straight out of the Dark World.

 

Weakened severely, The Usurper Chancellor fell to his knees again, gasping for air as he felt his airways close. Blood now trickled from his nose, but he didn't notice. “No! You can’t judge me!” He rasped, using up the last of his precious bits of air. “You don’t know what it was like! I was alone! There was no choice! No time!”

 

Zelda leaned forward, now uncomfortably close, her face merely centimetres from his as her neck snapped to the other side while her eyes continuously bore into his very soul. Then… she grinned… not kindly, not warmly… but wide enough to show her pointy, draconian teeth, her lips pulling unnaturally wide, distorting her entire countenance. For a moment, for a very brief moment, a fleeting sliver of her soul enjoyed it. The power she held over him. The sweet taste of revenge. The exquisite poetry of watching a coward drown in his own justifications. She could very well tear him apart here. Mind, body, soul. Reduce him to the shameful smear of history he had always been destined to become.

Chapter 27

However… she stopped.

 

A tremor passed through her and the shadows recoiled… Her smile faded as she saw herself reflected in the ice covered marble of the illusion’s floor… Not as The Crone of the Princess, not as The Nightmare… but herself… Zelda. The true Zelda. A woman of sacred blood and lineage, who had suffered more than anyone could have endured but still had a heart beating with compassion.

 

Her fingers unclenched and released their magnetic hold on his temple, leaving him to crumble to the ground. In an instant, The darkness around them peeled away like a massive curtain torn loose from its rod. The grotesque throne, the weeping walls, the banshee laughter, all gone as quickly as it had come.

 

It ended, all of it, the illusion dissipated and Coleburn was left alone in the real throne room of Hyrule.

 

A heavy, oppressive silence still reigned as the echoes of the illusion lingered.

 

He sat slumped on the floor with his back against his throne, still gasping for air like he had been pulled out from the deepest trenches of the ocean. His orange eyes darted around, trying to anchor themselves in reality, searching frantically but not finding his quarry. No Zelda. No horrors. Only the lingering, suffocating weight of what she had done to him. The garish throne stood empty behind him and his trembling hand reached back to drag himself up on the seat. His breath hitched as he could feel that chill grasping around his very soul. In that silence, the only sound to break it was his ragged breath… and his own heart beating rapidly… in a near panic.

 

One of his hands clenched around the support of the throne while his other clasped at his chest, his teeth gritting as he seethed… This would not stand. Something in his mind cracked as it was filled with mad desire for vengeance and the belief that… perhaps… she was in the castle. He would find her… he was going to make her pay.

 

At the same time, in the bell tower above the Sanctum, the illusion snapped like a drawn wire cut loose, a sudden rupture in the air that hummed through the marrow of her very spine as the hold was broken. Zelda's eyes flew open, her breath ragged and short as though surfacing from dark waters that had dragged her far too deep. Gasping for air, her hand reached instinctively toward the nearest presence that her instincts picked up on.

 

From the moment that he had heard her gasp, he'd moved and he was already there, crouched beside her in the shadowed bell tower above the throne room. The flickering torchlight from below was casting hard angles across his face, mingling with the glow of the descending sun in the west, though there was no denying the fact that concern was etched deeply in the furrow of his brow and the tightness of his jaw. He had been keeping watch the whole while and, while his own Triforce and Adamantine skull kept him shielded from magic and mental tampering respectively, he'd noticed the sudden shift right before she'd ended the illusion. His gloved hand reached for her cheek, his fingertips brushing back strands of hair now damp with sweat. He said nothing, not at first. He didn’t need to.

 

The Princess’ whole body was trembling violently and her face was flushed. That illusion… no, that curse she had manifested and cast was not without repercussions… Conjuring up such darkness… had clawed at her. The vile fangs of her own making had bitten into her very soul. She had wielded her sacred power like a knife, twisted it, enjoyed it for one terrible second too long. The lingering guilt left a bitter taste clinging to her tongue, like ashes. “I went too far…!” She whispered hoarsely, voice shaking as her fingers tightened on the black fabric around his arms . “I saw it in myself… and I indulged in it...”

 

His hands were holding her shoulders already, firmly yet reassuringly as if he was the one that was keeping her together. “You stopped before you lost yourself to it.” The demonic mutant murmured in reply, though there was an innate conviction to his lowered tone. “That is what matters.”

 

Despite feeling utterly undeserving of it, she lifted her gaze up at him, her emerald blue eyes glassy and shimmering with tears. “But what if I hadn’t?” Her whisper was so low that the question was more posed by the movement of her lips

 

However, he met her gaze without flinching and with nothing but warmth. “Then I would’ve stopped you.” It was a simple answer but it was exactly what she would have done for him in the same situation and they both knew it.

 

Hearing such sincerity from him and feeling his radiant presence wash over her, it had Zelda exhale slowly, allowing it to dispel the poison of her own darkness. Suddenly, her ears twitched, curving upwards then lowering as the voices below started to rise… Coleburn was barking orders in a hoarse, panicked shout, his pride gravely wounded her illusion and his already broken mind pushed into further insanity. He was trying to regain the feeling of control that she had quite easily expunged. Calling for his Benun, he demanded his guards scour the castle and, most of all, he demanded they find her, demanding her head on a platter at his feet.

 

The Final Knight turned his head slightly to the side, his own rounder ears curving slightly upwards as he tuned his hearing. Standing still and focusing for a moment, he quickly counted and went through all that he could pick up on from their hiding spot.They’re spreading out… fast.” He remarked in his beard as his demeanour began to harden again. “We need to leave. Now.”

 

Still looking quite dazed and guilt ridden, The Forlorn Princess managed a faint nod. “Take me home… Please.” Her voice didn't rise from how quiet it was, but, even so, it sounded broken as she leaned into his chest while seeking some level of comfort and warmth. There was no defiance in her voice now, no royal authority, no strategizing monarch… Just a woman on the verge of spiritual collapse, her soul strained to a taut by vengeance and grief.

 

Without hesitation, Georgian gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his massive frame. Thanks to his immense strength, she was light to him… but he could tell that her body was burdened by the emotional gravity of what she had allowed herself to do. A sentiment that, admittedly, he was all too familiar with. Indulging in his Slayer side when less experienced with it… had left him feeling similarly broken in the aftermath. For a moment, he gazed down at her countenance, noting her furrowed brow before looking up at the landscape around. Dusk was starting to descend on the land and he could see the sun starting to descend beneath the Hebra Mountains of the Tabantha Frontier to the east. Oddly, there seemed to be a perpetual thunderstorm over that region, one that made the world darken faster. 

 

The Mercenary hummed before drawing in a deep breath, mentally mapping a way out. It was inevitably different from the one that they had used to come in, especially since he currently did not have use of his hands… Though he would adapt and overcome. Leaping into the air and sliding down the spires, the loud sound sabatoned footsteps clattered somewhere far below, patrols rushing in every direction, shouts echoing through marble halls and courtyards,but none came close or glanced above for a second. Dynamo was like a ghost as his boots leapt from blue roof to spire and then another roof, making full use of the superior attaching technology that they possessed. His senses constantly scanned the space ahead, essentially updating his plotted escape route even as his focus remained fixed on Zelda’s slowing breath, her head leaning heavily against him. As they slipped from the highest spire into the southwestern battlements, the setting sun outside met them full on, blood-orange but with notes of heavy grey, the light glinting off the moat below. For a moment, he stopped atop one of the spires near the outermost wall, crouching low and waiting for a large patrol to pass. He could have pushed it, but risking and rushing now could have had dire consequences that he would rather avoid.

 

Zelda murmured something into his chest, her half-lidded eyes staring into nothing. “I hate that it worked…” She had said, her voice barely audible but her grip tightened subtly and… it was nearly frantic. “I hate that I scared him… and that I needed to.”

 

“You did what was necessary,” The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer answered quite briskly though his tone was still lowered, not flinching nor moving to look at her this time as he observed the patrol move away from them and creating a small but usable opening. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t cost you. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t cost you more.” Even through the hardness, there was no denying that he both saw them two as a team in this and he put the wellbeing of The Princess first.

 

She didn’t respond to that, at least not with words, but he felt her fingers curl slightly more into his jacket as she shut her eyes and turned her face further in. It was enough for now.

 

With one last look over his shoulder at the spires of the corrupted castle, Dynamo leapt in a high arch, making his way to the general area of the Second Gatehouse, near the Dining Hall. More specifically, just to the south of them. He did have a plan in mind, as well as quite a few back-ups… but he would rather have this one work flawlessly. The sheer speed of his motion and inertia made the wind howl past his ears as he dropped to the ground, absorbing the impact deftly so as to not jostle the precious person in his embrace. With silent and long sure-footed strides, he vanished into the shadows just in time to see another contingent of guards move frantically in search of The Princess. 

 

There was unrest and confusion in their expressions and in their voices, since they weren't fully sure how they were supposed to find her. At the same time, they did not want to disobey their King… for the consequences would be dire for them from every sense of the word. They all feared Varre and how he would make people just… dissappear… and Benun, whose brutality was infamous. The skyline was burning away the last embers of day, the sun’s dying flare pooling behind the farthest ridge of the faraway Hebra mountains as it was swallowed by a grey, thunderous mass which allowed dusk to overtake the sky. 

 

However neither the bittersweet beauty of the moment nor the tension rippling beneath it mattered to the demonic mutant. His focus was singular and resolute, Zelda. She laid against his chest and if it wasn't for her half-lidded eyes and the intensity with which she was holding onto his jacket, he would have thought she had lost consciousness. The rest of her body was limp, nestled into him, her head tucked against the curve of his neck. He could feel the occasional flutter of her breath, the shallow rise and fall of her chest against his form, as if her spirit and mind were constantly going back to what they had just seen and what she had done in retaliation… 

 

Before they could fully escape, they still had to get past the moat and the main front gates, the latter of which was bound to be guarded heavily above… but not beneath. Still using only his legs and general lower body strength, The Final Romanian Knight moved swiftly and without leaving a trace. Leaping over the battlements, he watched out of the corner of his eyes, the sentinels were not looking in their direction and he plunged out-of their line of sight and even beneath the great bridge. At just the right time, the hook from his right hissed and latched itself on the rampant to the side of it. Swinging hard and fast, the cable pulled taut before the hook unlatched and snapped back in place, the sheer power of the entire motion sending them soaring underneath the bridge and towards the shore faster than anyone could have even had an inkling as to what had just happened.

 

Indeed, the sentries did hear something, a few of them even scrambled to scour the bridge, but the shadowed figure was already long gone. By the time a few of them glanced over to the side where they had heard that strange clink against the stone, there was nothing there, not even a single ripple of the water.

 

In his arms and as they briefly soared, The Forlorn Princess clung to him as much as she could bring herself to, her limbs heavy and her head lolling ever so slightly against his chest. She wasn’t unconscious, but the deep strain of the astral illusion had clearly left her disoriented, sapped to her very core. Her pulse was steady, her breath calm, but her emerald blue eyes... were distant. Part of her was still lost in what she had conjured… because it had come from the deepest, darkest parts of her own being, her desire for vengeance…

 

Over the glistening waters he soared, the wind rushing past them and whipping his short hair around while fluttering his collar. A mere few meters below, the dark waters shimmered, mirroring the twilight bleeding into night as pale stars were  just beginning to appear. His boots touched down on the shore of the moat and he took a few steps to lose some of the momentum before crouching over her protectively. Glancing around, he sniffed in order to map out anything and anyone that might be in close proximity then his eyes settled on the looming restless castle. Behind them, over the walls, was the Eastern part of Castle Town. His fierce gaze narrowed and he waited for a moment to see if they had been made. Thankfully, while the ruckus did persist, those after The Wild Princess were none the wiser.

Chapter 28

Not wasting another second, The Mercenary quickly put distance between them and the edge of Castle Town as well, making his way on the outer perimeter of Hyrule Cathedral and heading towards the Park but not crossing the bridge to that location either. Instead, he stopped at the foot of Boneyard Bridge and let out a powerful whistle… one that was answered by the mighty roar of feline origin. Within moments, the giant beast appeared at his side, standing at over three metres tall and with a luscious dark grey mane along with a mix of blue fur and grey stripes along its muscular form. For a second, the royal blue eyes of the mount met the ones of the same shade that belonged to his master, even the red scar across the eye was mirrored over the left one. There was no need for words. Giving a murr with a twitch of his whiskers, the tiger that was bigger than a warhorse lowered himself in order to allow his master and charge to climb onto the leather brown saddle adorning his back.

 

With a nod that was more to himself, Dynamo gently reasserted Zelda’s form in his arms, one arm supporting her underneath her legs, the other across her back and shoulders. His keen ears twitched slightly when she murmured something faintly, eyelids fluttering, but she didn't seem to notice where they were and what he was doing. It pained him to see her in such a state but what was worse was the fact that there was not much that he could presently do apart from get her home. In one, fluid motion, he mounted the tiger, carefully placing The Princess at the front of the saddle, his entire form shielding her as he brought his arms around to grab the reigns. As always, he was protective and warm, a fact that made Zelda blink, only now beginning to come back to herself. She didn't fully process where she was but she knew that he was there. “Cebi?”

 

“I’ve got you, Zelda.” He replied quietly yet warmly as he was only ever with her, leaning forward to press his forehead to the side of her brow. “We're going home.” There was a second assurance from him as he spurred his mount forward with a quick. “Hai!” 

 

In mere moments after the command had been given, the giant sabretooth bolted, his massive paws and claws digging and pushing off the land underneath as he blazed forth at speeds faster than a terran cheetah. It was far better to keep away from any path and any settlement, which was why Dynamo directed him to cut right across the landscape. With speed and agility far beyond any ordinary landlocked mount, the tiger tore over the plains, tracing its own path through the Romani Plains and Applean Forest, heading eastward back to Hateno Village. 

 

“Promise me, Georgian…” Zelda finally spoke again, her tone quiet and burdened as she repeated. “Promise me…” Her grip on his jacket tightened as she further turned her face into him, eyes tightly shut as she felt the rhythmic movements of the steed underneath rippling through her body. “You won’t let them take me back there…!”

 

His grip on the reins tightened instinctively and his jaw set as he didn’t reply immediately. 

 

“To the Cabin…” She added after a beat, as if fearing he wouldn’t understand. She lifted her head ever so slightly to look up at him in the growing dark of the night.

 

The Bearer of The DOOM Slayer was quiet for a long moment, his breath slow and measured as he kept his eyes on their surroundings. The Cabin. The place where The Royal Chancellor had imprisoned her. The place where they had sent him to kill her. Where her blood had been spilled, her power leeched and subdued for too many decades. He had gotten her out only a few weeks ago, over a month but, inevitably, the trauma of it lingered. The phantom pain of the chains clung to her skin.

 

“They will not.” He said at last, a slight growl to his tone resonating from deep within his core. Safe to say, The Demon Worse Than Demons inside snarled and roared at the mere idea of them trying such again. “And even if they manage… I would go to Hell and back again for you.” His tone was almost chillingly sincere as was his devotion unwavering. 

 

At first, The Forlorn Princess didn't reply, not verbally, her fingers merely clinging onto his jacket even more. “I could feel it back there…” She murmured weakly and with tears beading in her eyes. “I felt how easily I could become something else… Something twisted…!” Her breath caught in her throat in rising panic before she gritted her teeth to try and calm herself, though her sorrow was spilling forth as were the tears picking at the corners of her eyes. “The Cabin, that place… it… changed me….”

 

“Perhaps so.” There was no good reason to deny or be blind to the truth, though there was a very clear fact of the matter that he voiced without hesitation. “However, one thing it did not change was who you are deep down.” 

 

Those words silenced Zelda for a few moments, simply taking them in, clinging to her Crimson Knight of Shadows. She was… very close to him as she sat in the saddle between his legs, feeling every motion of the steed beneath them as they tore through the land. It took her a moment to realise just how much his body was actively shielding her, but not even that comfort could bring a reprieve from the darkened thoughts plaguing her. “And if they try again? What if I’m taken again?” Her voice faltered as she further buried her face into him, a few tears spilling. “What if I can’t come back…?”

 

If there was anything that he loathed with a burning passion, it was the stinging scent of her tears. It invaded his nostrils but he kept his composure, letting go of the reigns and trusting his mount to keep on the imaginary trail after they swiftly crossed over Rebonae Bridge. “Then… I pity the fools who will have to face The Slayer’s rage.” There was an almost chilling level of honesty to his tone, reaching around with his gloved thumb to wipe the tear streaks from her cheeks. “Because, no matter where they would take you, I would find you.” He assured her, holding a hand to her cheek and stroking her skin methodically. “Again… and again… and again. As many times as I have to… because I made a promise.”

 

At this point, there was no need to reiterate what a promise was to him, not to mention that her dropped ears could clearly hear the depth of his conviction. That silenced her. His words comforted her, his strength reassured her and, most of all, his warmth filled her from within, lifting her from an ocean of blackness. No wonder he was a swimmer. Her body still ached with exhaustion, physically but worst of all mental, which seemed to just exacerbate the former, but at least she was able to ease against him with a long sigh. The rhythmic movements of the mount were surprisingly smooth, a splashing noise coming with each slight descent. They were passing through the Lanayru Wetlands like a torrent while avoiding Goponga Village in the middle of it, heading straight to the mountains in front of them, though she did not pay much attention. She merely trusted him to do as she'd pleaded.

 

The Second Hellwalker lifted his gaze from her and grabbed the reigns again, bracing himself. His body tensed and coiled itself slightly more over The Princess’ form, his legs holding onto the sides of his tiger tightly but without hurting his ‘little’ friend. By now, the sun had dipped fully beneath the horizon and the moonlight was streaming through the gaps of the clouds that littered the midnight sky. Ascending up the side of the mountain, the wind began to pick up around them, howling against the rocks and whipping through their hair and the fur of the great beast. However, the massive tiger was very much unaffected, using his natural agility and bolstered strength in his claws to make his way up to the very top, reaching the top of Quatta's Shelf. With plenty of endurance left, Dynamo pulled at the reigns and spurred him towards the northeast, descending briefly to a small pond surrounded by a couple of trees.

 

After some time while passing through the Rabla Plain towards the rugged terrain of Trotter's down, Zelda spoke again. “Will you stay... once we’re home?” Her question came quietly from her lips but much more lucid than before. This time she didn’t lift her head up to look at him, simply leaning against his chest fully, trusting him to support her through their many ascents and descents over the landscape. 

 

This time, there was no pause before he replied. “I will.” He assured while his tiger leapt to climb the rock face with his powerful claws, reaching Trotter's Downfall proper. “Of course, I will.” Though he soon pulled on the reigns and checked his SMI. They were so close yet so far at the same time. The natural protection that the mountains provided also made travelling difficult… especially when he stubbornly wanted to avoid the main pathways. Still, it hadn't been too many hours since their escape. With a slight grunt of affirmation at himself, he spurred his mount forward again, patting his side reassuringly as the beast leapt with a murr, climbing to the Lanayru Heights. 

 

The Forlorn Princess did not realise the completely insane stunts and climbs that they were doing… along with the fact that they were not on a horse. She merely felt herself being further pushed into the warm frame of The Final Knight by gravity, consumed by her thoughts. “And will you... hold me?” Her glistening emerald blue looked up at him, his face lit up by the moonlight, making his royal blue eyes glow in the dark like a fierce feline.

 

Said intense gaze went down to meet hers while pulling on the reigns to head towards East Gate of the Lanayru Road, fully intending to pass over it. Allowing his mount to have control for a few seconds as they literally galloped over the massive, ancient stone gateway, there was the ghost of a smile on his bearded expression. “That goes without question. I always will.” He assured once more just as his tiger leapt for the last dozen metres to the other side, still galloping as fast as he could up the side of Nirvata Plateau, balancing himself naturally with his long tail as to not disturb his riders too much.

 

Almost there. Almost home.

 

With her head resting beneath his chin and her weight securely nestled into his muscular frame, a long breath came from her as she closed her eyes again, allowing herself to go completely limp against him. They had to be going downhil now, she could feel the way that he was leaning back and using one arm to hold her against him so that she may not fall. Slightly, she clung to him more but she never once got the sense that she was sliding off the saddle or away from him. The Princess was safe… very safe.

 

Indeed, the massive tiger was making his way down the very side of the mountains to the grassy Ovli Plains that reached around Nirvata Lake as well. Just a stone's throw away from Hateno Village, which was now visible, nestled as it was near the mountains, its lights dim under the cover of a cloudy night sky.

Notes:

Welp, it is that time of the year and the Linktober calendars have DROPPED
I'm gonna take a hiatus off writing this while I draw out the calendars AND write out Linktober Quest 2025