Chapter Text
"Personally, I think Ganon is going to be mad."
"Is he not already?"
"I mean yeah, he's been in a bad mood already. But with you being five minutes from sobbing and the whole Zelda thing? I think he's going to blow up this time."
"I am not five minutes from sobbing-"
"Yes you are." That slight edge, no matter how playful Sybil's words were, shut him up easily.
It wasn't like he could deny it when his words were choked and his hands shook as he fixed the bent wing of one of his spirie.
"Honestly I'm surprised no one has been struck by lightning just yet," She continued on. "Even Taven gets zappy when they're pissed."
Link didn't think it was much of a miracle. Gerudo armor tended to be enchanted against attracting electricity, all besides the gauntlets the royal family wore. If anything, the only ones in danger were his siblings, who all liked to shock each other for fun anyway.
Sybil was one of the greater perpetuaters of that.
Even than, Ganon was the most trained in controlling that magic. Most of the time.
Deltan was silent behind them, only the sound of her rrushado huffing to Sybil and Link's in quiet conversation.
"He hasn't struck anyone on accident in years and you know that. Unlike you," Link poked her in the back between her armor as she elbowed him back. "Hey, ow. Your armor is sharp."
"I know for a fact that didn't hurt you. You tackle us all the time when we wear armor."
"No, it injured me and I'm going to cause a political disaster now."
"Yeah right," Sybil rolled her eyes before her shoulders shot up in surprise. "Oh shit! You could! Wow, today has just been... Great for you. Happy birthday."
That reminder clung like burs in his skin. "Yeah, great gifts all around. First hot day in a good while, too." He ignored the choked tears in the back of his throat and the spiri that chimed sadly up at him. He pulled the barest of magic from his own soul to remake the cells of its wings, murmuring quietly for a moment so it’d sit still.
Sybil was about to bite back before Deltan spoke up instead. "Are you not overheating at all?" The sound of her finally speaking spooked him a bit, though the worry was clear. "The heavy cloak and this heat..."
Sybil snorted, though sobered a bit at Deltan's clear frown. "Sorry, sorry. I forget that others aren't used to Link's... Linkage."
"My what."
"That... That does not work that way-" He snorted at the show she put on of being proud, his spiri chiming happily.
He nearly missed Sybil’s look of pride as she looked back to Delta. "You're from the coast right? Sichairi don't often go that far. Almost any you'll meet would wear at least two more cloaks outside of the cities and towns. Link here is special for only wearing one."
"And they don't die?" Deltan tilted her head, hands fussing with her rrushando’s reins. "I can understand one to keep the sun off, but three..." And than she caught herself, frowning more, "Its for protection against others, isn't it?"
Link's soul stung at the reminder, as did his back and neck, "One for everyday life and comfort, another to protect the wings for travel, another to seal in the magic of the first two cloaks. Some wear more for decoration,“ he explained.
"And that magic helps with the sun?"
"Sometimes? That's what a fourth cloak is for."
Deltan was quiet for a long moment as Sybil seemed all too pleased by this situation, before she finally said, "This is starting to seem redundant. Why not just wear a singular cloak like you do? Or at least two at most? Though, yours doesn't seem the most..."
"Protective?"
She nodded and he considered it for a second.
Cloaks were second nature to him, nearly as ingrained as how to make a spiri. Lessons upon lessons, taught by the rensirie'chosecho and the rensirie'ircho. Most of the time when he tried to explain he made it sound like tradition had dug them into a hole, when he knew it wasn't exactly the case.
Usually.
"There's only so much magic a piece of clothing can hold without needing to be reinforced and become something else." He motioned to his own. "The one I wear has more enchantments than others but it has been reinforced to actually house those enchantments because its the only one I'll ever wear. My Annan has been working on it since I was born and its tailored magically to me. For other cloaks that isn't feasible. Its easier to make cloaks with a single purpose that can be layered on top of one another. So they just need to exchange one for heat or cold depending on the area, and can share with others if they aren't traveling. I can't pass down my cloak to someone else, but someone else could pass down their simpler one through their family line."
"And a single cloak will protect you against the heat?" It wasn't disbelief in her voice like he expected, but instead curiosity.
"As long as you take a break during the hottest point of the day when it starts to overpower the magic, than yes."
"And your cloak has it built in?"
"I think so?" Link shrugged.
Sybil laughed at that, "Annan Terra'evi probably hid it somewhere where he can't find it. That and he has enough jewelry to open a store. Its all rattling around in that damn bag no one wants to touch."
"Hey, a lot of it is in Ganon room, actually. And Taven's I think?" Link frowned. "Iarta kept better track than me, but its no longer all in my bag."
"Iarta also has said, on multiple accounts, that you could just wear Gerudo clothes and survive better than wearing a cloak.“
"That makes me too cold."
"You're red in the face from the heat,“ Deltan pointed at him.
"That's just my face. It means I'm related to fairies."
"Yeah, your entire ass face," Sybil laughed as Link just hissed at her.
Deltan shook her head, "If you're so sure, than I'm glad youre not going to die in the desert's heat, sichairi."
He dipped his head in thanks, "I will do my best not to."
Sybil flicked his ear, "Yeah, you have a job to do. The librarians might actually kill you this time if you don't sort this out, and we gotta get Iarta back. She's gonna be angry."
Deltan cringed, "The librarians terrify me. Them and the Sol'Mah Sichai Shim’tarren. One wrong move or overdue thing and its all over."
Link just laughed, "They're not so bad! Sol'evi and Mah'evi have always been kind."
"You're people made them, I don't think this is a fair comparison," she said as Sybil hummed in agreement.
Link released his spiri, letting it take flight again to make sure it was truly alright. It chimed joyfully before settling on Deltan's shoulder, balanced by her pauldron. "That doesn't mean much. Your desert loves you and they have become part of Hililaan'Geru'Sho, so of course they'd be kind. If you're following their rules and stuff..."
Deltan didn't comment on the spiri, poking it once and receiving a chime in return before determining it was fine and moving on. "How... far does the spirits' hold extend, anyway? I’ve always wondered and anyone I ask has a different answer."
Link paused, "I'm not sure?" Sybil looked back at him in surprise. "I know their power extends into the badlands, but its a slow transition. I can point out almost exactly where it ends. Past the coast I'm not sure exactly but I imagine it’s the same slow transition.."
Deltan nodded, "I know they extend into the sea a good ways. Some nights, the fish glow with what I think is the moon’s power. It always guided my parents’ ship into harbor safely. The sun of course bakes into the sand like it does here, even on the
smaller islands a bit aways. I think that counts at least..." Her tone was wistful but there was something tentative there as well.
Sybil hummed in agreement, "Its a different heat and different cold than you’d find anywhere else, even on beaches like the Zoran coast or in Lurelin. Here its familiar.“a
“An old friend, maybe?" Deltan and Sybil shared a smile in agreement.
That was something Link understood deeply.
Many magics were familiar, from the storm that hummed around sybil to the edges of fog that clung to his cape. The magic was baked into his soul, like how the sun and moon had baked into the hearts of those they cared for.
Now, it stung. The world felt impossibly empty, no matter how much the sun's power rested on his shoulders or the moon's breeze tangled his hair.
"And that sword you lost?" Deltan looked to him, that earnestness hurting more. "The thief? Do they... work the same for your people?"
"Not exactly." He took a deep breath, his spiri fluttering back as the rest began peaking out of his bag on their own, chimes of worry meeting him. It only made it feel all the world worse.
His hesitation though, lied in exactly what he'd be revealing. Of what was at stake.
Sybil tensed in front of him, something he rarely.
"She's the Tashbas'Ris. The Soul Thief. Or just... Iarta," Her name clawed at his throat. "She... She is able to remove a soul with a single clean cut."
"Sounds like something that would change the war." Deltan's gaze was sharp, whatever soft hesitation that had been in her voice gone and replaced by an awful understanding. "If we were to get her back..."
"We would not use her power." Sybil's voice cut in. "Death is kinder than to lose one's soul. It is a pain that cannot be forgiven easily even when returned to the body."
It was something that Link's annan had taught her and her siblings, when they were far younger. She'd all but ingrained it in their minds when she'd been helping their mother teach about honor in fighting. Link and Zelda had been there for it.
"The Heroines would turn on us for it," she continued, finality in her tone.
Deltan accepted it with a single nod. "And would this... Zelda accept that?"
Sybil nodded as Link shook his head. "She knows it. She's voiced her dislike of Iarta travelling with me because of it, but I wouldn't put it past her to use it."
Sybil looked back at him, confusion drawing her brow together as her ears flicked. "Zelda wouldn't go that far..."
"She would if she's desperate," Link said. The echoes of betrayal were deafening. She'd already declared war on her best friend's people. She'd already endangered the entirety of Link's despite calling him her brother. "I think she is already desperate."
She had been desperate for a very long time, and he was only than realizing just how much he'd underestimated exactly how desperate.
"I hope that it doesn't destroy her honor," Deltan said with a finality that Link both wished for and understood.
The silence that followed all but drowned them, dampened by the soft beats of their rrushaando's steps and the chiming of spirie who’d emerged from his bag. They refused to leave his arms and used their wings to cling to the inside of his cloak, soft and warm magic pressing against him.
The wind blew past and brought only the quiet day of the desert. The sun was somber past the clouds, not quite baked into the sands just yet though its heat was familiar and consuming, spurring on those who thrived in the daylight and comforting those who slept.
The ground below told something else.
The rrushaando noticed first. They halted midstep, the movement jolting their riders as their ears flicked forward searching.
First was a huff to warn their riders of danger, the second was a deeper huff used to warn fairies.
The sands shook, shifting against the wind’s sweeping pass, barely noticeable but unmistakable.
"Moldulga pit," Sybil murmured. She dismounted, Link following close behind.
Deltan hesitated before following after. "Should we go around it?"
"Lets see." Sybil said, moving forward a few steps until her rrushado gave an angry huff of warning that told her to stop. "Link?"
Link drew his bow from his bag at her silent command, glad to finally be armed as he notched an arrow. It crackled with electricity, numbing his fingers and humming in his teeth.
He fired.
The arrowhead exploded into crackling electricity as it struck the ground of the moldulga's territory and sent sand flying.
For a few moments the earth held its breath.
The moldulga erupted, shaking the desert, sand and rock flying through the air alongside it. Its wide jaw caught the remnants of the arrow, snapping shut at the peak of its leap before it slammed into the earth.
It paused for a moment, the lack of sun making it slow to register its surroundings before it began the process of digging itself back into the earth.
"Its still small, a baby bull maybe," Sybil murmured, face falling into one Link rarely saw. One she used as the soon to be head of the guard. "But it could get one of us in a single bite. You haven't dealt with these much, right?"
Deltan nodded, "I was taught the babies cover a territory the size of a trader's ship."
"I don't exactly know how large that is, but with baby bulls its difficult to tell the actual size of the territory.“ Sybil scanned the horizon, the lack of brush in this flat plane of the desert more apparent than ever.
Link nodded in agreement, "They tend to grab more territory than they can keep, so you're always unsure about the exactly where the edge lies."
"Its also too small for us to pass through its teeth plates."
Deltan looked at her like something in horror. "I thought it was sudden death within its mouth."
Sybil smiled sweetly, "Link got snatched by one once. He was a good chunk shorter and went straight into its stomach."
"And... you survived?" Deltan looked down at him, horrified look growing.
Link shivered at the memory and smell. "Nothing like harvesting moldulga guts while drenched in their digestive juices."
Deltan nodded slowly, before her gaze hardened. "Than you know how to kill it?"
"We know how, but we won't," Link said.
Sybil placed a hand on Link's shoulder, the magic of storm crackling quietly in the space of magic that only he could hear. "It'd be a waste of the creature's life, especially with one so young. No one is around to harvest it and we do not have the time to ourselves."
"Is it not a monster?"
"There's no malice in the blood of a moldulga," Link took a step forward and steadied his stance again. "They're like the coyotes, just trying to eat and survive. Even if they're the size of a rrushaando herd."
"And worm shaped."
"Yes, and worm shaped.
Deltan considered that and nodded, "We don't have them on the shores and I only hear of them as a nuisance. But I’ll take your word. What's our plan, than?"
Sybil just gave her a grin.
Lightning spun around the arrows point as storm brewed around them. Link drew the bow string back, Sybil’s magic crackling through the air as lightning threatened to lance between them and the sky above.
It cut through the wind, flying far past where the moldulga had buried itself. It landed farther out, the sand exploding as sky and earth met in a loud crack, limbs of lighting arching out into the sands.
Link drew back another arrow. He knew he could make it far enough but it was more of a question of if it was needed.
His thoughts ground to a halt.
It was gone.
Aspiribas, or something so close that he couldn't draw in a breath in the absence of everything.
There wasn't heat nor wind nor cool nor life itself, nothing but a hallowed land of sand and stone and shrub. The wind paused its dance, standing and staring as the stars waited with the storm that refused to roll above.
Their sun and moon, their day and night.
Gone.
The memory of their magic stung, so long ingrained from their time they’d existed within the desert and his people with it. Of the warmth of the sun against his skin and the cool breeze of the night in his hair. Of the coyotes crying the moon's song and the rrushaando's hoofs meeting the sands in time with the sun's heart beat.
Of the light of the sun glinting off Iarta's eyes as she smiled at him, of the pride in her gaze for one reason or another, humor finding its way into her smile. Her voice carried in the wind of the night as she led them through the bazaar with a laugh.
Of the comforting weight on his back, of her always being there where he didn’t need to reach.
How much could he lose?
How much could he ignore?
The storm crackled, pain hot and surprising pricking his skin as he yelped and flung himself away from the source.
Sybil was crouched next to him, worry in her electric green eyes as his spirie crowded against his chest and neck.
They were so lovingly alive that for a moment it hurt. It ached deeply in his chest as their loud chimes worried over him and sounded so much like her.
Silence sat between them before Sybil asked a question he feared.
"What happened?"
He couldn't bring himself to speak for a long moment, a moment that left him feeling like he was a child again, words stuck in his throat and the pained knowing someone, so many people, were waiting on him to answer.
Sybil waited through, patient despite the crease in her brow and the need to get to Vai Vafi as soon as they could.
"Eshimae..." He finally bit out, magic stinging his throat as he tried to layer as much as he could into the magic of his words. Any hope that she’d understand better. "Eshimae Spiri'sporo."
Sybil's face fell from worry to fear and than into determination as quick as a stroke of lightning. "The false queen has stolen our Twin Guides," Sybil said in way of translation to Deltan. She stood, offering a hand to Link to drag him up. "Let's go. If anything changes, tell me immediately."
Link nodded. She didn't let go of his wrist as she led him there and he was glad for it. The constant reminder of a storm was nearly as familiar as the Fogs.
Sybil let go when they mounted the rrushaando once more, setting off at a far quicker pace.
The worry of overworking the rrushaando and leaving themselves and their mounts stranded kept them from rushing as fast as Sybil clearly wished, cutting partially through the moldulga's territory.
Deltan took up the space beside them, eyes on the horizon where the moldulga had originally been. "The lightning will keep it away?"
"It mimics the rrushaando," Link had to call back a bit, collecting his spirie close to him . "It mimics the foot falls of a herd beggining to fun, so the moldulga chases where it thinks they're heading."
Deltan turned back to face their path,"Smart."
Link was glad Sybil didn't tell her it was originally Zelda's idea.
As long as the moldulga didn’t realize it had been tricked, they’d be fine.
Link felt tricked instead in its place.
He felt the heat creeping up his spine, not from the desert's usual fare but instead a scorching fury that buried itself into his bones, biting his heels, screaming the awful truth that he needed to hunt, be hunted, die, move, live.
Link squeezed his eyes shut as whatever had replaced the sun—or in truth what was the Sun itself but twisted in a way he could not figure understand than when it yelled and hissed and his spirie chimed in their own anguish—sunk its teeth into him.
He was a creature of the day, and he was within its domain.
"They're back," Link hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as he buried his face into the armor of Sybil's back.
She urged them on faster as the sun was beginning to lower.
The nights whispering anger, its pain, its sadness began at the edges of his knowing.
"She's changed them."
His soul cried out for them.
Irech'tasba t Spiri'sha ran? Tashribas Uch'bas a bas li'emore uch.
1. "E'Link Link." - 'Your Link Linkage' - Here the first link is being used as a noun and the second as an adjective. RETURN
2. rensirie'chosecho - a craftperson of cloaks - specifically the enchanted cloaks of the sheno'spirish
rensirie'ircho - a craftsperson of clothes RETURN
3. Sol'Mah Sichai Shim’tarren - [Gerudo] Literal sun-moon soul scimitars, The Scimitars of the Sun and Moon. RETURN
4. Sol'evi - [Gerudo, Fog] Sun, 'evi is a title/term of great respect
Mah'evi - [Gerudo, Fog] Moon, 'evi is a title/term of great respect RETURN
5. Aspiribas [Fog] - total death of the soul, or in this case it being simply gone. RETURN
6. Eshimae Spiri'sporo [Fog] - The life soul is gone - Life soul being the magic imbewed into the lands. RETURN
7. Irech'tasba t Spiri'sha ran? Tashribas Uch'bas a bas li'emore uch. [Fog] - Don't you understand, My Soul Child? She is not a thief, she is something far worse.