Before there was Light: Part Eight
It's short... sue me...
The sound of elder Marte’s voice jars me out of my contemplation. She is standing before the clan, giving the normal vespers chant in a level measured tone. Soon the princess and I will be back on our way to Fiate and the palace. Sighing, I rise as Marte finishes the chant, dismissing the clan to their night tasks. I walk towards the princess, only to have several young Shiekah dart past me. When I arrive near the princes’ seat, there are already three children around her, all talking in hurried and hushed tones.
“Julia, there’s no training tonight…” a short female who looks to be a few years younger then Zelda comments.
“I know, Ainee,” she replies, gesturing at the two others, “let’s go play a trick on Master Barck!”
Giggling in a very Zelda fashion the other two nod their agreement. Apparently the princess’ infectiously happy and spunky personality has spread. No wonder Marte was upset at my arrival; she and the entire camp are probably loathed to see Zelda go.
“Julia,” I cut in, stepping up to the group. The three Shiekah gasp, and quickly bow. The princess bows as well, but it is obvious her three cohorts have a nervous fear that she is missing.
“Mistress Impa!” she replies, smiling broadly, “wonderful to see you!”
“Perhaps,” I begin, knowing she will probably hate what is coming next, “but time will not allow me to stay long; or you either for that matter. Come, we need to go, your father will be beside himself with worry.”
Her face obviously falls at this, red eyes displaying a slight pout. She turns to her companions and makes a gesture for them to give us some space.
“Could you let talk in private for a second?” she asks. The young ones look to me, and I nod, wondering what Zelda wants.
“Look, Impa,” she begins shifting her weight back and forth nervously, “I know we HAVE to go back, even if I don’t want’a, but I was wondering if,” her eyes are refusing now to look at me, as though she knows this is a request bound to fail, “well, see, I found Ainee hiding back behind a rock way out past the training grounds, where no one would ever go, I mean I was there looking for a secret hideout for our gang, so even really I wouldn’t have been out there, but anyway, she tried real hard to act normal when I saw her, but I could tell she’d been crying, and so I asked her what was wrong, and at first she didn’t want’a tell me, but then I promised to keep it a secret, and I’m only tellin’ you because I have to, and-”
“Princess,” I cut in, “breath.”
She nods and takes in a huge gulp of air.
“Now,” I continue as she re-inflates her lungs, “you are obviously leading up to a request, and I am very busy. Could we skip our little history lesson and actually deal with the issue?”
She nods, and finally looks up at me with large, pleading, slightly watering, eyes.
“Can Ainee come back with us? Her family has all died, so there’s no reason to keep her here…”
So, that what she wants… Ainee must be recently orphaned, and snuck off to give vent to her feelings. The princess must have stumbled across her and wanted to help her. I sigh slightly at that… the princess really does have a good heart, even if she does sometimes lack logistical sense.
“Princess, you know that is not my decision. As an orphan of the Hidden Plain Clan, Ainee is under the supervision of Elder Marte. I suggest you ask her if you want to see this happen.”
“I was hoping you could ask for me…” she smiles up at me, large eyes still pleading. Of course she wants that. It is easy enough for an elder to ignore the request of a child, especially one not of the clan, but a request of an elder? That is not something done lightly, even for another elder, and especially not if the elder asking is Mistress Impa.
“Princess,” I sigh.
“Impa!” she whines, “I promised her that when I left, she could come with us!”
“Enough!” I cry, throwing up my hand in surrendered, “I will inquire with Mistress Marte as to the girl’s training, but you should learn to not give promises you cannot keep, Princess Zelda. It is not a good habit for a future rule to cultivate.”
“Yes, Impa, sorry Impa,” she replies, face beaming happily in a way that connotes no remorse whatsoever.
There are likely only a few hours left till dawn as I finally leave the hidden camp, the princess and our newest Palace Shiekah in tow. Apparently Ainee was quite a skilled little Shiekah, and Marte was less then thrilled to give her over to live the palace. However, she also knows I train all the Shiekah living in the palace in the coveted Taraja style, so it makes sense for one of her best martial artists to travel and study under me. From what I had gathered, the princess had also taken quickly to her training, and I am already planning the next stage of her training in my mind. Rauru had warned me all those years ago to show her what Shiekah knowledge I could, and I am kicking myself for lost time already. I glance back to where Ainee and the princess are giggling over a shared secret.
I hope I am doing what is best for both of them…
*******
“I just heard about what happened.”
It was so surreal, and Julia’s voice sounded as though it came from far away, or under water.
“Fiate would have come too, but he wanted to leave immediately for the front and personally see to Defaid’s remains…”
Somehow we made it to the table and sat down. I remember the way it took all my strength to keep from physically shaking.
“…he feels terrible about this Impa; we all do!”
And then I broke down. My tears flooded as they never had before, and Julia grabbed me tight, crying with me. She consoled and commiserated with me for hours, until at last I had no water left in me for tears. Then she smiled at me with those large blue eyes.
“Come back to the palace and live with us, ok?”
Mutely I nodded. Julia was willing to comfort me, but it would not be long before this too was stripped from me.
******
“Sigme!” I call, pulling up my left hand and balling the right into a fist at waist level as I fall into the closed Taraja stance.
“Sigme!” the Shiekah before me call back as they mirror the movement. In our native southern tongue, the word means ‘start,’ or ‘to put into motion’ to be literal.
“Ta!” I call, whipping my open left hand away from my body, as though blocking a strike.
“Ta!” my five students call back, copying the block.
“Ra!” I call, quirking back the arm to trap the imaginary arm giving the blow.
“Ra!” they chorus, repeating the grapple.
“Ja!” I cry, driving forward off my back foot to uncoil into a powerful punch from my right fist, rising into a chest-high strike.
“Ja!” they call out, though the results certainly vary in their success.
We have repeated this ten times when I decided to evaluate.
“Reh!” I call, or ‘cease motion,’ and sink to my knees, resting back on my heals. My students follow suit and bow slightly, waiting to see what will come next.
Taking in a breath, I look over them, trying to gauge how taxing the routine was for each of them. Young Keef is smirking and barely breathing heavily, though some sweat is quite visible under the black hair tangled over his forehead. Difa and her brother Migfa are both gulping down air, though they are obviously trying to hide it. They have been studying with me for less then half a season, so I cannot begrudge them a little less stamina. Karath has is ever present emotionless face on, and though his breathing has obviously quickened, he seems to be keeping with the pace nicely. Ainee, like Keef, seems to be barely strained at all. At two years, she has been my student longer then any, sans Keef, so this is to be expected. I must admit I have been impressed with her progress. Ainee is fast, agile, and extremely flexible. Keef might be my best student now, but it will not be long before Ainee passes him. She is also much more agreeable then Keef. Both Plain Shiekah, they have little in common beyond their mutual orphan status. Keef is skilled, but arrogant and self-focused that will keep him from ever being a true master, even if he attains that rank. By contrast, Ainee is a kind girl, who I can only see using these martial arts in defense of her close friends. She is smiling at me now with the large violet eyes, expectantly waiting for the next phase of the lesson.
“Keef,” I begin, nodding to him, “please demonstrate what we did again, explaining the meaning behind each step of the process.”
He does, and I reward him with a nod of approval. Gesturing for Ainee to rise, I lead into my next lesson.
“The combo you just learned is a powerful tool in the Taraja arsenal, but do not think it makes you invincible. Ainee, come at me…”
It might sound like a strange command to some, but fighting with the instructor is a very common occurrence in Shiekah training. Ainee does not hesitate for a moment. Falling into the closed stance, she moves cautiously forward. I ready myself across from her, falling into a similar, yet open stance. She darts in, trying a rush I taught them several lessons ago. I easily spin out of the way of the kanitil, and she skids to a spot a few feet past me.
“If I open my stance, I increase my mobility. Keef, join her.” Fighting two opponents can be risky, and these are my two best students, but there is little chance I will lose to them.
Keef cartwheels left to place me between Ainee and himself. He could have easily done it by sidestepping, but Keef always has had a flair for flash. Keef is obviously experimenting with a more open stance; he will soon learn the downsides this can have. Ainee is sticking with the basics she is familiar with, again cautiously moving in. She obviously realizes Keef will likely leave her open to attack if it means victory for himself. While Ainee is the less experienced of the two fighters, Keef could certainly use a lesson in humility. Instead of eliminating Ainee so I can focus fully on the stronger fighter, I will make Keef my example. Feigning a rush at Ainee, I dart suddenly towards Keef, standing open and squared in front of him. His eyes widen with shock, but he quickly ducks low to the left. Quicker then I had imagined, but reaction time will hurt him this time; he has dodged before I committed to a blow. In his new open stance, Keef has left me hundreds of body pressure points to hit. I quickly reorient my strike, poking the artery leading up to Keef’s left arm right under the arm joint sharply with two fingers. It will hurt like kesse bite, and immobilize the arm for a few hours, but he will suffer no real damage. Whipping my left arm around in a natural follow through, I give Keef’s right breast an open palmed strike. The sternum would have been the target if he were my real enemy, but there is no reason to force him to endure that much pain. Keef is obviously beaten, but he absorbs the blow well, allowing the force of it to flow through him, pushing him back and twisting to fall forward onto his arms rather then the back. I whirl quickly, knowing Ainee is probably on me already. I hunch as I do so, left leg kicking out to sweep as I spin. Ainee is indeed right behind me, and she gasps slightly as she jumps the sweep kick. I am instantly back in my stance as she lands, closed right across from me.
“RA!” she cries out as her left leg kick flashes out for an angled ax kick. I lean back, letting the kick brush by me. I scoot back slightly, bending at my waist to dodge the right mid-level side kick that follows the ax strike.
“JA!” Ainee calls, left fist shooting out for my temple. My right arm flashes up, parrying the blow and leaving her open to counter-attack. My left hand shoots out towards Ainee’s throat on instinct, first two fingers ready for a powerful poke. If I finish the jab, I would fracture her laranx. It would instantly begin to swell, and she would be dead by strangulation in seconds. However, my control is not so bad as to slip in this instance. Ainee visibly flinches as my hand darts in, but when she opens her eyes she will find by finger a hairs breath from the vital spot. She swallows at the near fatal hit, and I actually feel the movement with my fingers.
“Enough,” I command, turning to see how Keef is. He has pushed himself into a half-sitting position, left hand propping his weight while the right rubs at his sore chest. Nodding to him, I address my students.
“How did I defeat Keef? What weakness did he display?”
“You’re too damn fast,” Keef growls, glaring darkly at the ground, “I couldn’t get my arms around to block you.”
“Was that because he was so open?” Migfa queries, hesitancy in his voice, “he was able to dart and pivot faster, but once you got in on him all his vital spots were there for you to strike.”
“Exactly…” I reply, nodding once, “there is a balance in all things. Never think that a perfect stance will prevent all blows or allow you to deliver a strike that cannot be blocked. You must always be aware of your opponent, where he is, what is his stance, how best to counter it… no fight can be completely pre-planned.”
Keef has retaken his feet, though his arm still hangs limply at his side.
“But what of the Kenshi Strike?” he asks, eyes narrowing, “they say it can’t be blocked… they say it can kill with one strike… they say only a true master of the Taraja Style can perform it…”
The Kenshi Strike? Who has been telling you tales of things best left unsaid Keef?
“Then it is indeed unfortunate there have only ever been seven true masters of the Taraja Style, young Keef,” I reply, intentional vague. It is never good for one so young to look with awe on the Toys of Death. The Kenshi Strike is indeed a weapon of immense power, and it is far better if only those old enough to hate killing come to possess it.
“And, Mistress Impa, are you one of them?”
So, he wants to persist in this?
“Young Keef, need I remind you of your station… do not presume to question my status.”
“Of course not Mistress,” he replies, ducking his head, “forgive me… I was merely trying to ask if you knew of the Kenshi Strike…”
“I know of it,” I reply honestly enough, “enough to know it is a skill best left to your betters young Keef. Even if a warrior possesses knowledge of the strike it does not ensure victory.”
It looks as though he is about to press further, when a young Hylian lad runs into the practice ring.
“Mistress Impa!” he cries, breathing hard from his sprint, “Captain Prethius send a message.”
Turning, I give a dismissive wave to my Shiekah.
“Go, but do not wander too far… I may have need of you. Ainee, stay with me.”
They all bow, and begin to disperse. Turning my attention back to the page I nod for him to give the report. The boy was still gasping his air, but he had recovered somewhat.
“Mistress, the captain said that The Magus is here… he said you would want to know…”
Gannondorf? Why is HE here… I nod my thanks to the boy and dismiss him with a wave.
“Ainee,” I murmur, turning towards her, “Please go to the princess’ garden and wait with her. I will be there soon.”
“Ay,” she bows and runs off in the direction of Zelda’s probable location.
I watch her leave then turn towards Fiate’s war-room. That is likely where I will find he and Gannondorf. I have no trust for that man, and even less with him around Fiate…
The sound of elder Marte’s voice jars me out of my contemplation. She is standing before the clan, giving the normal vespers chant in a level measured tone. Soon the princess and I will be back on our way to Fiate and the palace. Sighing, I rise as Marte finishes the chant, dismissing the clan to their night tasks. I walk towards the princess, only to have several young Shiekah dart past me. When I arrive near the princes’ seat, there are already three children around her, all talking in hurried and hushed tones.
“Julia, there’s no training tonight…” a short female who looks to be a few years younger then Zelda comments.
“I know, Ainee,” she replies, gesturing at the two others, “let’s go play a trick on Master Barck!”
Giggling in a very Zelda fashion the other two nod their agreement. Apparently the princess’ infectiously happy and spunky personality has spread. No wonder Marte was upset at my arrival; she and the entire camp are probably loathed to see Zelda go.
“Julia,” I cut in, stepping up to the group. The three Shiekah gasp, and quickly bow. The princess bows as well, but it is obvious her three cohorts have a nervous fear that she is missing.
“Mistress Impa!” she replies, smiling broadly, “wonderful to see you!”
“Perhaps,” I begin, knowing she will probably hate what is coming next, “but time will not allow me to stay long; or you either for that matter. Come, we need to go, your father will be beside himself with worry.”
Her face obviously falls at this, red eyes displaying a slight pout. She turns to her companions and makes a gesture for them to give us some space.
“Could you let talk in private for a second?” she asks. The young ones look to me, and I nod, wondering what Zelda wants.
“Look, Impa,” she begins shifting her weight back and forth nervously, “I know we HAVE to go back, even if I don’t want’a, but I was wondering if,” her eyes are refusing now to look at me, as though she knows this is a request bound to fail, “well, see, I found Ainee hiding back behind a rock way out past the training grounds, where no one would ever go, I mean I was there looking for a secret hideout for our gang, so even really I wouldn’t have been out there, but anyway, she tried real hard to act normal when I saw her, but I could tell she’d been crying, and so I asked her what was wrong, and at first she didn’t want’a tell me, but then I promised to keep it a secret, and I’m only tellin’ you because I have to, and-”
“Princess,” I cut in, “breath.”
She nods and takes in a huge gulp of air.
“Now,” I continue as she re-inflates her lungs, “you are obviously leading up to a request, and I am very busy. Could we skip our little history lesson and actually deal with the issue?”
She nods, and finally looks up at me with large, pleading, slightly watering, eyes.
“Can Ainee come back with us? Her family has all died, so there’s no reason to keep her here…”
So, that what she wants… Ainee must be recently orphaned, and snuck off to give vent to her feelings. The princess must have stumbled across her and wanted to help her. I sigh slightly at that… the princess really does have a good heart, even if she does sometimes lack logistical sense.
“Princess, you know that is not my decision. As an orphan of the Hidden Plain Clan, Ainee is under the supervision of Elder Marte. I suggest you ask her if you want to see this happen.”
“I was hoping you could ask for me…” she smiles up at me, large eyes still pleading. Of course she wants that. It is easy enough for an elder to ignore the request of a child, especially one not of the clan, but a request of an elder? That is not something done lightly, even for another elder, and especially not if the elder asking is Mistress Impa.
“Princess,” I sigh.
“Impa!” she whines, “I promised her that when I left, she could come with us!”
“Enough!” I cry, throwing up my hand in surrendered, “I will inquire with Mistress Marte as to the girl’s training, but you should learn to not give promises you cannot keep, Princess Zelda. It is not a good habit for a future rule to cultivate.”
“Yes, Impa, sorry Impa,” she replies, face beaming happily in a way that connotes no remorse whatsoever.
There are likely only a few hours left till dawn as I finally leave the hidden camp, the princess and our newest Palace Shiekah in tow. Apparently Ainee was quite a skilled little Shiekah, and Marte was less then thrilled to give her over to live the palace. However, she also knows I train all the Shiekah living in the palace in the coveted Taraja style, so it makes sense for one of her best martial artists to travel and study under me. From what I had gathered, the princess had also taken quickly to her training, and I am already planning the next stage of her training in my mind. Rauru had warned me all those years ago to show her what Shiekah knowledge I could, and I am kicking myself for lost time already. I glance back to where Ainee and the princess are giggling over a shared secret.
I hope I am doing what is best for both of them…
*******
“I just heard about what happened.”
It was so surreal, and Julia’s voice sounded as though it came from far away, or under water.
“Fiate would have come too, but he wanted to leave immediately for the front and personally see to Defaid’s remains…”
Somehow we made it to the table and sat down. I remember the way it took all my strength to keep from physically shaking.
“…he feels terrible about this Impa; we all do!”
And then I broke down. My tears flooded as they never had before, and Julia grabbed me tight, crying with me. She consoled and commiserated with me for hours, until at last I had no water left in me for tears. Then she smiled at me with those large blue eyes.
“Come back to the palace and live with us, ok?”
Mutely I nodded. Julia was willing to comfort me, but it would not be long before this too was stripped from me.
******
“Sigme!” I call, pulling up my left hand and balling the right into a fist at waist level as I fall into the closed Taraja stance.
“Sigme!” the Shiekah before me call back as they mirror the movement. In our native southern tongue, the word means ‘start,’ or ‘to put into motion’ to be literal.
“Ta!” I call, whipping my open left hand away from my body, as though blocking a strike.
“Ta!” my five students call back, copying the block.
“Ra!” I call, quirking back the arm to trap the imaginary arm giving the blow.
“Ra!” they chorus, repeating the grapple.
“Ja!” I cry, driving forward off my back foot to uncoil into a powerful punch from my right fist, rising into a chest-high strike.
“Ja!” they call out, though the results certainly vary in their success.
We have repeated this ten times when I decided to evaluate.
“Reh!” I call, or ‘cease motion,’ and sink to my knees, resting back on my heals. My students follow suit and bow slightly, waiting to see what will come next.
Taking in a breath, I look over them, trying to gauge how taxing the routine was for each of them. Young Keef is smirking and barely breathing heavily, though some sweat is quite visible under the black hair tangled over his forehead. Difa and her brother Migfa are both gulping down air, though they are obviously trying to hide it. They have been studying with me for less then half a season, so I cannot begrudge them a little less stamina. Karath has is ever present emotionless face on, and though his breathing has obviously quickened, he seems to be keeping with the pace nicely. Ainee, like Keef, seems to be barely strained at all. At two years, she has been my student longer then any, sans Keef, so this is to be expected. I must admit I have been impressed with her progress. Ainee is fast, agile, and extremely flexible. Keef might be my best student now, but it will not be long before Ainee passes him. She is also much more agreeable then Keef. Both Plain Shiekah, they have little in common beyond their mutual orphan status. Keef is skilled, but arrogant and self-focused that will keep him from ever being a true master, even if he attains that rank. By contrast, Ainee is a kind girl, who I can only see using these martial arts in defense of her close friends. She is smiling at me now with the large violet eyes, expectantly waiting for the next phase of the lesson.
“Keef,” I begin, nodding to him, “please demonstrate what we did again, explaining the meaning behind each step of the process.”
He does, and I reward him with a nod of approval. Gesturing for Ainee to rise, I lead into my next lesson.
“The combo you just learned is a powerful tool in the Taraja arsenal, but do not think it makes you invincible. Ainee, come at me…”
It might sound like a strange command to some, but fighting with the instructor is a very common occurrence in Shiekah training. Ainee does not hesitate for a moment. Falling into the closed stance, she moves cautiously forward. I ready myself across from her, falling into a similar, yet open stance. She darts in, trying a rush I taught them several lessons ago. I easily spin out of the way of the kanitil, and she skids to a spot a few feet past me.
“If I open my stance, I increase my mobility. Keef, join her.” Fighting two opponents can be risky, and these are my two best students, but there is little chance I will lose to them.
Keef cartwheels left to place me between Ainee and himself. He could have easily done it by sidestepping, but Keef always has had a flair for flash. Keef is obviously experimenting with a more open stance; he will soon learn the downsides this can have. Ainee is sticking with the basics she is familiar with, again cautiously moving in. She obviously realizes Keef will likely leave her open to attack if it means victory for himself. While Ainee is the less experienced of the two fighters, Keef could certainly use a lesson in humility. Instead of eliminating Ainee so I can focus fully on the stronger fighter, I will make Keef my example. Feigning a rush at Ainee, I dart suddenly towards Keef, standing open and squared in front of him. His eyes widen with shock, but he quickly ducks low to the left. Quicker then I had imagined, but reaction time will hurt him this time; he has dodged before I committed to a blow. In his new open stance, Keef has left me hundreds of body pressure points to hit. I quickly reorient my strike, poking the artery leading up to Keef’s left arm right under the arm joint sharply with two fingers. It will hurt like kesse bite, and immobilize the arm for a few hours, but he will suffer no real damage. Whipping my left arm around in a natural follow through, I give Keef’s right breast an open palmed strike. The sternum would have been the target if he were my real enemy, but there is no reason to force him to endure that much pain. Keef is obviously beaten, but he absorbs the blow well, allowing the force of it to flow through him, pushing him back and twisting to fall forward onto his arms rather then the back. I whirl quickly, knowing Ainee is probably on me already. I hunch as I do so, left leg kicking out to sweep as I spin. Ainee is indeed right behind me, and she gasps slightly as she jumps the sweep kick. I am instantly back in my stance as she lands, closed right across from me.
“RA!” she cries out as her left leg kick flashes out for an angled ax kick. I lean back, letting the kick brush by me. I scoot back slightly, bending at my waist to dodge the right mid-level side kick that follows the ax strike.
“JA!” Ainee calls, left fist shooting out for my temple. My right arm flashes up, parrying the blow and leaving her open to counter-attack. My left hand shoots out towards Ainee’s throat on instinct, first two fingers ready for a powerful poke. If I finish the jab, I would fracture her laranx. It would instantly begin to swell, and she would be dead by strangulation in seconds. However, my control is not so bad as to slip in this instance. Ainee visibly flinches as my hand darts in, but when she opens her eyes she will find by finger a hairs breath from the vital spot. She swallows at the near fatal hit, and I actually feel the movement with my fingers.
“Enough,” I command, turning to see how Keef is. He has pushed himself into a half-sitting position, left hand propping his weight while the right rubs at his sore chest. Nodding to him, I address my students.
“How did I defeat Keef? What weakness did he display?”
“You’re too damn fast,” Keef growls, glaring darkly at the ground, “I couldn’t get my arms around to block you.”
“Was that because he was so open?” Migfa queries, hesitancy in his voice, “he was able to dart and pivot faster, but once you got in on him all his vital spots were there for you to strike.”
“Exactly…” I reply, nodding once, “there is a balance in all things. Never think that a perfect stance will prevent all blows or allow you to deliver a strike that cannot be blocked. You must always be aware of your opponent, where he is, what is his stance, how best to counter it… no fight can be completely pre-planned.”
Keef has retaken his feet, though his arm still hangs limply at his side.
“But what of the Kenshi Strike?” he asks, eyes narrowing, “they say it can’t be blocked… they say it can kill with one strike… they say only a true master of the Taraja Style can perform it…”
The Kenshi Strike? Who has been telling you tales of things best left unsaid Keef?
“Then it is indeed unfortunate there have only ever been seven true masters of the Taraja Style, young Keef,” I reply, intentional vague. It is never good for one so young to look with awe on the Toys of Death. The Kenshi Strike is indeed a weapon of immense power, and it is far better if only those old enough to hate killing come to possess it.
“And, Mistress Impa, are you one of them?”
So, he wants to persist in this?
“Young Keef, need I remind you of your station… do not presume to question my status.”
“Of course not Mistress,” he replies, ducking his head, “forgive me… I was merely trying to ask if you knew of the Kenshi Strike…”
“I know of it,” I reply honestly enough, “enough to know it is a skill best left to your betters young Keef. Even if a warrior possesses knowledge of the strike it does not ensure victory.”
It looks as though he is about to press further, when a young Hylian lad runs into the practice ring.
“Mistress Impa!” he cries, breathing hard from his sprint, “Captain Prethius send a message.”
Turning, I give a dismissive wave to my Shiekah.
“Go, but do not wander too far… I may have need of you. Ainee, stay with me.”
They all bow, and begin to disperse. Turning my attention back to the page I nod for him to give the report. The boy was still gasping his air, but he had recovered somewhat.
“Mistress, the captain said that The Magus is here… he said you would want to know…”
Gannondorf? Why is HE here… I nod my thanks to the boy and dismiss him with a wave.
“Ainee,” I murmur, turning towards her, “Please go to the princess’ garden and wait with her. I will be there soon.”
“Ay,” she bows and runs off in the direction of Zelda’s probable location.
I watch her leave then turn towards Fiate’s war-room. That is likely where I will find he and Gannondorf. I have no trust for that man, and even less with him around Fiate…
posted by Czar at 2:17 PM
1 Comments:
It may be because it was shorter (yes, I will sue you), but it seemed like it lacked the same fullness as the other sections. Maybe it is because it does not delve into Impa's past as much. Although one can see why she dedicated her life to a cause - it eliminated the connection she would have with people. Interesting how her dedication to a cuase led her to be the protector of Zelda.
I am interested to see when Zelda begins to realize the power she holds. She seems so young and in a position where she does not understand how to approach life - as you said she did not think logistically. Will you eventually show how she made the drastic change to be Shiek of Seven Years?
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