Before there was Light: Part Two

Here is part two... this story builds upon itself regularly, so you might want to brush up on the prior section...

*****

“Masters and Mistresses, Brothers and sisters, terrible events may be afoot…”

Defaid and I were standing near the back of the gathered elders. I was standing straight as a pole, arms crossed, eyes fixed on clan. Nothing was going to escape my notice; at a merger fourteen winters old this was my first clan meeting, and I was determined I would not be treated as a child. Defaid, as usual, did not appear as concerned about his role in the proceedings. He had leaned back against the cave wall, weight on one leg, the other lightly resting on a chair. His half closed eyes were gazing at Remha, looking only for an indication of what his role in the new era would be.

“Moblins have attacked the Tacka Clan. They appeared in unheard of numbers, and were armed with spears, swords, and other implements of war that the Moblins have no knowledge of making.”
There were murmurs at this. Even at my young age and inexperience I knew what this implied.
“No doubt many of you believe this as a sign that the Moblins have picked up a new ally in their ongoing war with us.”
“Filthy treacherous Gordons!” a cry rang out from the younger clan members gathered in front of the table Remha was speaking from.
“We don’t know that,” Remha began, raising a hand for silence.
“Who else?” came another cry, “Who else would want us dead?”
“Lizardmen,” came a reply from another of the brothers, “They hold no effeminacy for us.”
“Lizardmen are no more capable of making weapons then the Moblins!” came the original voice.
The brothers and sisters began to argue amongst themselves. The noise was starting to rise as I turned to look back at Defaid. To my surprise there was a bit of a smirk pulling at his mouth. He saw me looking back to him, and shook his head, a strange sparkle in his eye. I must admit I found it slightly irritating that Defaid did not seem overly concerned with the discussion and debate unfolding. I walked over and pushed the chair away, watching as Defaid slipped to the floor. He glanced up to me, surprise in his large red eyes.
“This is important,” I hissed, too low for others to hear “the least you could do is act like you care.”
“Oh, I care,” Defaid chuckled in reply, as he stood up, loud enough for the Masters and Mistresses who stood at the back of the crowd to hear, “I care enough to not waste time in meaningless speculation. The clan elders are wiser then I could ever hope to be, and I am sure the bickering of the brothers and sisters will bring forth no angles they have not already considered… this isn’t the thing they wanted debated, so I will bide my time until the real issue comes forth.”
“Narue’s wisdom incarnate in flesh!” Mistress Duka said, nodding to Defaid, “how old are you boy?”
“Sixteen summers, and fifteen winters” my companion replied, grinning broadly.
“Insight that reaches far beyond your years,” Mistress Duka sighed, looking back at the squabbling youth in front of Remha.

After the noise had finally subsided a bit, Remha raised his hand again.
“Shiekah are not the only ones the Moblins have attacked. The Gordons, and the Hylians were also attacked. King Thiade of Hyrule has called on the blood oath our ancestors swore. We are summoned once again to serve the Hylian Empire. There will be a war and all the clans are being called into the military… The Shadow People will fight again, and we will war with the Moblins!”

There was a general murmur of assent, but a few whispers could be heard beneath it. The Shiekah Peoples’ connection to the Royal family of Hyrule was something lost in the dim origins of history, but no one would dare to claim it did not exist. In fact, there were supposedly many Shiekah actually living at the palace and around Castle Town. It was long known that the Plain Shiekah had been used as assassins and soldiers by the kings of Hyrule, and some of King Thiade’s war council were Shiekah.

All the same, for the far flung reaches of the Shiekah clans, Hyrule, its kings, its wars, and its citizens, were faraway things, and of no concern to us. Defaid was right; the real debate was about to begin.

*******

“But Impa!” she whines, “I don’t want a tea party! I want a hunting party!”
“Princess, you shall have a tea party and that is final. Despite your wishes to the contrary, you are a princess, and shall act accordingly.”
“But it’s MY 8th Birthday… shouldn’t I be the one who gets to decide what I do on it? I don’t even LIKE tea, and you know it!”
“Princess,” I reply, turning her around perhaps a little too roughly before I begin tying the laces on the back of her white dress, “you need to learn two very important things quickly. First, you may one day regret the hours of palace luxury you squandered; and second, the wish of a princess is worth very little in Hyrule…”
And I pray the Goddesses THAT never changes, I add mentally as I help Zelda pull her purple top over the white dress. Hylian royal clothes are almost as complicated and painful to put on as they are to wear, so I do not begrudge Zelda a little whining; however recently she has become more insistent, and I have never had the patience of Defaid…

As I lead the princess by her hand towards the gardens, I think back over the list of things that have to be accomplished for her tea party. Fortunately for me, only a handful of giggling girls from several of the Hylian royal families were actually invited. Normally Fiate used his daughter’s birthdays to host massive celebrations of his latest diplomatic feats. This was a common enough practice for the leading royal families of the Hylian, Gordon, and Zora nations, so I tried to not hold it against him. For the Shiekah, the day of one’s birth is something of great importance, and dealt with in a much different manner. It was just one more thing I will never understand about Hylians.

I am struggling to keep a fairly close eye on the rambunctious Zelda when Prethius saunters up.
“Mistress Impa,” he begins, a wry grin tugging at his lips, “I bring bad news for both of us.”
I groan inwardly. The Captain of the Place Guard, Prethius is generally correct in assessments of what will and what will not ruin my day.
“What? Did Rauru die?” the old sage had been very ill recently, and his death could spell disaster to my on-going anti-Gannondorf campaign.
“Far worse,” Prethius chuckles, “I bring bad tiding of peace…”
“Oh, please tell me you are joking… That Zora king surely did not swear allegiance three days before the princess’ birthday…”
“Every tenet of the treaty agreed to,” Prethius nods, confirming my worst fears, “you know what this means of course…”
“It means,” I nearly growl, “that Fiate is going to want Princess Zelda’s tea party magically transformed into a celebration of the new peace. A ball for at least every Hylian and probably nearly every Zora royal family, including the Hylians from Turminnia and Guntheria… Add to them the Gordon and Greudo guests… this is going to be one nice party for every member of the palace staff isn’t it?”
“Yeah, the cooks, gardeners, cleaners, not to mention you and I in security, are all going to take it in the nose for Fiate yet again…” Prethius shrugs and turns, “at least we’ll get some Greudo women around… they make for a fun time.”
“For some,” I muter, glancing around locate the princess.
“Hey, I hear lots of them are in to women… you know, like it happens all the time in their culture. You could probably-”
“Prethius, I feel the need to remind you that I was married once,” I cut him off looking around for Zelda in earnest now, “to a man.”
“I’m just saying it never hurts to experiment… not that I’ve ever mind you-”
“Excuse me Prethius, I need to see where her highness has wandered off to.”

After a few moments frantic searching, I locate Zelda under a bush staring intently into the main courtyard.
“Princess!” I nearly hiss, crawling down beside her, “you are not to come into this section of the gardens alone, and you know that quite well.”
“But Mistress Impa, look!” she whispers pointing at the palace gate. There riding in is Lord Fiate with several of his high command and ranking knights. I notice with a hint of anger that Gannondorf is among the dozen or so champions. I also note with a bit of interest that he is riding without armor and with the battle-mages that accompany Fiate onto the field. I had no idea Gannondorf is a magus. All the more reason to be hesitant of him; who knows what other hidden powers the thieving murder possesses.

Zelda’s large blue eyes are still glued to her father though, totally unaware of his entourage.
“I just want to be with daddy on my birthday,” she whispers.

Poor girl. I know all to well that birthday wishes rarely turn out how one wants.

*******

“Well then,” Remha smiles, reaching out a hand, “happy birthday Sister Impa.”
I was thrilled. At sixteen winters, I was an official sister of the clan; though truth be told Remha had thought me worthy of the honor many years prior to this one.

Our clan had changed much over the seasons since the Shiekah were re-integrated into the Hylian military. Our life had always been a martial one, training to be ready for war at any time, so in many ways the clan raised its young and lived from day to day exactly as it always has. After the Hylian king’s call however, those of us training for war were called from time to time into battle. Shiekah clans had always had feuds and sometimes even scrimmages, and our race seemed to be a particular target of Moblin and Lizardmen persecution, but rarely had our little clan been involved in such all out wars like the battles we were becoming more familiar with.

“Now, if there was ever a Shiekah who mastered the art of hiding emotion and desires, Sister Impa,” Remha continued, giving me a knowing look, “it is you… tell me, what is it our newest sister wants more then anything on her birthday, for I honestly could not guess. Remember the first thing a birthday Shiekah asks of a Master will be granted; if it be within his power...”
There was one thing I wanted more than anything, and I knew it was well within Remha’s power to give.
“I was hoping, Master, that Defaid and I might have the day free from training… He and I have long wished to climb to the very top of Death Mountain Crater, and if we started now, we could be back not long after nightfall.”
I could see hesitancy in Remha’s eyes, and I almost regretted putting him on the spot. It was something he never would have allowed normally. While the Grodons were not our foes, they shared little love with the Hylians, and knew all too well of the Shiekah’s close relationship with them. Moreover, Death Mountain was not the relatively tame place it would become under Lord Fiate’s rule, and there were fouler things then Moblins prowling the caves that riddled the still very active volcano.
“If anyone else had asked, even Shiekah many years your elders, I would have flatly refused,” he confessed, “but both you and Brother Defaid are most worthy Shiekah, and I can trust you to think on your feet. You may go, but only on the conditions that you take the utmost care, and that you deliver a letter for me to Master Jeef of the Tacka Clan. Go and find Defaid, then return to me for the letter.”

I found Defaid running through a combat routine on one of the craggy peeks not far from the cave. It was still an hour till dawn, but Defaid had always been one for early practice. He was training with a practice Hylian Pike. Shiekah traditionally shunned training with weapons, and we never made our own. We trained to work with the only weapons we knew we would have in any situation: our bodies and our heads. However, as we began to be placed n more traditional warfare situations, and not just assassin jobs, many Shiekah began to develop their own weapon styles, using Shiekah ingenuity to improve on Hylian weapon use. I snatched up an unused pike and jumped down across form Defaid, noting his start of surprise that I would interrupt his rigorous routine.
“Uh, back down Mistress Impa,” he said, trademark grin strangely absent, “you have never trained with a weapon other then your dagger, and I’d really hate to have to whack you with this pole…”
“Maybe I’ve been practicing on the side,” I replied, grinning innocently at him.

He shrugged, and fell into an odd stance, the long pole of the pike held perpendicular to the ground and his shoulder, alongside the right side of his body. His left shoulder as facing me, his body angled in a closed stance, with the back and shoulder straight and the legs bent slightly at the knees. I had absolutely no notion of how best to fight with a pole-arm, so I mimicked his stance and hoped I looked convincing.

I do not remember if my stance was convincing, but if it was, Defaid’s next three strokes debunked the myth. Stepping in, he quickly brought the butt of his pike swinging up, catching me in the groin. If he had been swinging at someone other then me, I am sure he would have left the leg immobile. A quick lunge from his stance brought his pike’s shaft forward hard. I had hunched slightly and dropped my guard due to his first blow, so I could not stop the middle of the shaft from connecting with my chest. This knocked me to my knees, gasping for breath. The next thing I knew, the head of Defaid’s pike was resting on my shoulder actually touching my neck. I whispered a quick, silent prayer of thanks that the practice pikes “blade” was made of wood and smiled up at Defaid.
“Well, I see your skills are improving… I was sure I would block at least ONE stroke.”
To my surprise, Defaid did not appear amused. Normally he was the one to make the jokes, and if I happened to crack one he was sure to laugh, no matter how awful it was. But that day he merely grunted, tossing his pike to the side and extending a hand to me.
“I have reasons to train with weapons, that is all…” he said blandly, pulling me to my feet.
“Defaid, what is wrong? You are not acting like yourself…”
“I don’t really have the time to talk about this now… you know how Remha is about training sessions… go go go, right?”
“Well, then worry no more, because you have the day off. It is my birthday, Defaid, or did you forget?” his nervous muttering displayed quite clearly that this was the case, “no matter… As you know, a Shiekah can ask for any one thing on her birthday, so I got Master Remha to us passage to Death Mountain Crater.”

It did not take long for us to grab Remha’s letter and start on the long trail to the summit of Death Mountain.

As we leapt from crag to crag, progressing rapidly up the side of the mountain, I could not help but noticed how Defaid’s mood had not lightened. We both paused after a particularly long jump, watching as the lazy sun finally pulled itself over the horizon.
“So?” I asked, looking at the rising ball of fire, “we have time now… what is troubling you?”

He did not answer at first, and I wondered if he was even going to tell me. It was rather alarming; Defaid had never hidden anything from me before.
“Remha was talking with me two days ago,” he finally, gazing out at the sun as well, “he told me he believes your clan will be called into service for a war with the Moblins within the fortnight.” I believe Defaid always referred to the clan as ‘your clan,’ not so much to remain loyal to his dead clansmen as to annoy me.
“And you will go with them?”
“Of course…” for the first time that day he gave his trademark smirk and ruffled my cropped jet black hair. He sobered again though, looking from me back to the rising sun.
“I must admit, I do feel a sense of fear though.”
“Fear?” I had left off scrutinizing the sun and was paying close attention to the pointed features of his profile now.
“Oh yes, Mistress Impa,” I see a soft smile forming at his mouth, “surely you know what the word means my little philosopher…”
“Of course I do, but I am surprised to learn that you still fear battles…”
“I didn’t say battles were what I feared…” his large reddish eyes looked over at me, and the soft tenderness in them nearly caused me to gasp.

“Defaid, I…” my voice trailed off. I was too unsure of what he was saying to know how to go on.
“I’ll be honest Impa,” he continued. The fact that he used my actual name, sans his usual teasing ‘mistress’ clued me in to the seriousness Defaid wanted to get across.
“I fear many things… I fear that when the brothers and sisters leave, you’ll have to stay because of your youth. I fear that I might die in some remote cave far away from this clan, and my stoic little philosopher. I fear that when that happens, I will forever wander the mountains and caves as a restless spirit, who was never able to be with the woman he loved…”
“Defaid, I…” again I found myself unable to continue, but now due to an entirely new set of reasons.
“I know you no doubt find this ridiculous, Impa… I only hope that somewhere deep down beneath that mask you always wear, where your actual feelings and heart lie, you hear one thing. I never knew fear until I thought of losing you before I even had you.”

My vision blurred slightly, and I am sure I was on the verge of crying. Biting my lower lip hard, I looked back up into Defaid large caring eyes. This was something I had waited years for, and now it was here… Defaid’s confession of devotion and love, finally acknowledging me as something more then a little sister.
“You are right, Defaid,” I said, feeling a slight flash of anger at something, and grabbing hard at it in order to keep my head, “I do find it ridiculous… there very notion that I would let you go so easily! I would be in that cave beside you, no matter what Remha said about my youth; and if you died, I would catch your Poe in a bottle and keep it with me until I could find a suitable time and place to release and join you.”
The notion of keeping a Poe-esk Defaid in a jar was the most ridiculous thing that had been purported so far, and Defaid obviously found it immensely funny.

It might sound like an odd way for lovers to talk for some, but both Defaid and I were training to be warriors, and were surrounded by a life of war and battle. We had no youthful delusions about our mortality. Defaid would march with our clan inside of thirteen days, and there was a chance he might never return. A high chance in fact. Dealing with how we approached our love in terms of death was only natural.

As we continued up the Mountain, Defaid was back to his old self, even going so far as to intentionally pick any flower I happened to look closely at and dart away laughing boyishly. Caring for Defaid might have been a risky love, but I was a Shiekah, and I would have had it no other way.

*******

“Keef, I need you to run this letter to Rauru for me.”
“Of course, Mistress Impa,” his large, pretty, violet eyes smile up at me, “what’s it about?”
“Nothing that concerns you, Keef,” I tell answer firmly, “just get it there quickly.”
It is not hard to see the disgruntled look in his eye, but even a Plain Shiekah knows better then to disrespect a Master or Mistress.
“Yes Mistress Impa,” and with a flash he is gone.
Keef really is too young to be handling the responsibilities I give him; at barely twelve winters he is not even a true brother of his clan. However, the clans have been called up in increasing numbers, and I have no choice but to rely on our youth much too heavily. Rauru must receive his updates, and Narue knows I do not have the time to run back and forth to Greudo Valley.

Two days have passed since Fiate returned in victory from Zora Fountain; and one day remains until the celebration of peace and glory that follows. Zelda has been slightly more despondent then normal, and I feel she knows that her birthday will be about something other then herself yet again. I see her as I walk into her private garden, looking through the tiny window in the back. It overlooks the Throne Room, a small ventilation shaft letting air into the chamber that commands all of Hyrule. I sigh; she can only be looking for one thing, a brief glimpse of her father.

I have never doubted Fiate’s character, if Julia loved him then he must be a man of great worth, but sometimes I question his priorities. King or not, he is a father, and he tends to forget that fact. Of course, it has been very hard on him over the past eight years. Julia was his first love, and when she died he buried his sorrow with his king-work. It has been good for his empire, but hard on his daughter.
“Impa,” Zelda cries, turning from the window, “there’s a strange fish-looking man in father’s room… what is it?”
“That is a Zora, princess,” I reply, crossing over to her, “and you will see many more of them soon. Most of the Zora royal families will be attending your birthday feast.”
“I thought I was having a tea party,” Zelda replies, turning back to the window.
“Things change…” I murmur, walking behind her. Through the window I can see the Zora’s royal emissary talking towards the direction of Fiate’s throne. The throne itself is not visible through small window.
How appropriate, I think, straightening back up, just out of sight, and just out of mind.

“Will any one my age be there?” Zelda asks, snapping me back into the garden.
“I believe King Zola has a daughter around your age, princess” I answer, trying to soften my normally monotone voice. For someone so young, and one admittedly so self-focused, the princess really is trying to make the best of things. Maybe I should throw some extra weight in on her side. I have a meeting with Fiate later, and I make a mental note to speak with him on the issue.
“Oh, and Jistine of the Akinda family will be there… I believe you should remember her from your fifth birthday sleep-over.”
“Oh yes, Jisty! She’s ever so fun… she likes horses you know.”
“For some reason that doesn’t surprise me…” the Akinda have always been an out going adventurous branch of the Hylian royal family. Jistine and Zelda had formed a bit of a bond, despite rarely seeing each other, probably due to their mutual dislike of the royal Hylian view of feminity.

“Impa, I want to go for a walk outside, ok?”
“We are outside, princess,” I answer, slightly taken aback by the request.
“No,” she says stamping her little foot, a slight whine to her voice, “I mean outside the palace… to look at the people.”
“You know we can not do that… your father would string me from the highest tree in Hyrule if he found out I took you out of the palace without talking to him.”
“But we did it once before!” I know where her protest is springing from, and mentally kick myself. Several days ago I was forced to take Zelda out of the palace. In a stroke of ‘genius,’ and a complete absence of wisdom, I dressed her up in a blue and white child’s tunic and pants of Shiekah design. This coupled with a high color and turban left the princess looking like a regular little palace Shiekah boy around her age. The disguise had enabled me to accomplish what I needed done, but Zelda had been demanding me nearly every day after to take her back to the market to watch the merchants and townsfolk argue and barter, and she had been getting more insistent.
“Princess, Hylian royalty do not waltz about the town.”
“But I won’t be royalty…” she responds, grinning wickedly, “I’ll be Shiek, your little son!”
She sees my skeptical, disapproving, look and clasps her hands in front of her.
“Impa, it’s my birthday… and you said that Shiekah master will grant the-”
“Yes I know.” Another tale I would have been better off not telling.
“And, I’m asking to go outside… so, can we go yet?”
I look down into the pleading blue eyes, so like Julia’s, and find it impossible to refuse. Maintaining a stoic and calculated frown, I give a nod.
“Go to your room and wait for me…”
Squealing, the young girl darts off, obviously overjoyed. Still, something tells me I am going to rue this decision.