The Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction / Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction ❯ The Flow of Time ❯ Raging ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter Three: Raging

Disclaimer: Zelda characters and Hyrule are owned by Nintendo. Badria and Kaula, however, are mine.

 

 

Come.

 

 

 

I knew the exact moment you had defeated the man.

 

The land shuddered, giving a silent sigh as it relaxed for the first time in seven years, releasing the breath it'd been holding. I “listened” as the silence I'd enjoyed for so long was broken. Nasty, good, magic surged to feed the starved land, life erupting as the land soaked it in like rain.

 

I felt the magic descend upon my temple, sink through the rocks, and resurrect spells the old Sages had laid so long ago while destroying his. It would have destroyed me too -tried to!- but mine was a much older evil than his and not what the magic sought to destroy. It let me be, settling and becoming dormant, its job done.

 

Once certain the new magic would no longer attempt to banish me, I emerged from the water, a snarl on my (no, his) lips. The water around me rippled outward in agitated waves. It'd been hard enough to remove this taint the last time, now I'd have to start all over again!

 

Annoying, foul Sages…

 

Weak, useless individuals. Mere threads of power. Fragile, easy to break. But when spun together they had… potential. It was much harder to cut the spells apart, you had to hack away each strand separately before making a dent to the original spell. To make matters worse, the Ruler of Hyrule had the ability to “weave” the hapless strands together, making them stronger. He could then cast this “net” of magic over the land, using it to keep weaker evils at bay while enticing the land into fruition.

 

There was a weakness though. Oh yes, a big one too. Like a drug, the land became addicted, dependent on the magic that the Sages channeled to the Ruler who fed it to the land. During his rule the land suffered since he had nothing to feed it but his own, venomous magic.

 

And we can all see how well the land liked that!

 

Churning, I reached out and grabbed a piece of the net that lay camouflaged against the water. It burned into my “skin” but I held it tightly, digging my fingers into the thick of it, tearing at it. Extracting a thin, golden thread, I was about to snap it when I thought better of it. No need to heedlessly alert them to my presence, best to let them think all evil is gone…

 

 

 

Come!

 

 

 

I dropped it and it sank back, nestling and making itself at home while I tended to my hand. How long had it been since I tangled with the Sages?

 

Flexing my fingers, I savored the pain.

 

 

 

Do not keep me waiting…

 

 

 

I had underestimated them. I'd thought it would be a simple matter of eliminating the Sages one by one. I'd watched them, they'd never sensed me lurking. I figured it'd be swift dealings… I picked the Water Sage first. Fat, bloated, weak minded… stealing said “mind” was as simple as extracting blood from a cow.

 

I didn't realize how entwined they were. I'd thought that by leaving the Water Sage alive (albeit, empty headed) they wouldn't have noticed. Apparently, as soon as I'd taken over the Water powers, the “thread” of Water had been severed.

 

While I'd already disappeared to explore my new temple, the other Sages had noticed something wrong with the net. They swarmed to find Lord Fat Fish inebriated and powerless and tracked me down. I'd been sloppy. I thought I'd have a few days before they noticed…

 

To make a long story short, they bound me and tore the Water Sage's magic from my clutches. In their haste, some splinters of magic remained imbedded inside of me, making it impossible for them to remove me from my temple without my consent.

 

So they sealed me in.

 

I took great pleasure during my first hundred years of imprisonment, that while they had rescued the magic, they had failed to rescue his Lord's mind. A few more hours and I'd have assimilated the magic as well. Good magic, especially the ancient kind, is particularly tedious to digest.

 

Heh. Lord Jabu-jabu. I wonder if any of the Zora's still worshiped him…

 

 

 

I'm growing impatient.

 

 

 

I licked my palm, soothing the healing pain. It made me think of you and your sweet mouth of innocence and copper. Would you still be as sweet the next time?

 

I hoped so.

 

I tested my abilities with the netting in place, wanting to see what they'd permit. I was able to raise my illusion once more and cover the hateful doors. It probably would have allowed me free reign of the temple, so long as I didn't venture out, but I decided to wait for your return, my farkas.

 

I brought my island back, leafless tree (still barren despite my efforts), and the endless plain of water. When you came back, everything would be the same… without the doors, of course. Spiteful things… Leaves on the tree would have been a nice touch but it didn't matter.

 

 

 

Where are you?

 

 

 

I keep thinking of your face, pale as bone with splashes of crimson, as you fought for your life against me. Your struggles, pathetic!

 

But enticing.

 

How much would it take to break you, hmm? Would you fall to the whip as I slice your skin with its razor tipped edge? Would you cry out and beg for me to stop, salt staining your cheeks?

 

Or would you beg for more?

 

Would you plead for me to raise the whip again, to strike your back with efficient, swift strikes? Or would you prefer they be long and cutting? Either way, you life will bleed into the water.

 

I'll make your skin my canvas and use the whip to paint your blood along your perfect surface. And when I'm done, I'll run my hands along your trembling skin with nerves so frayed and kiss my lips against your wounds, licking them shut. Sweet. Bitter. Much like your life, I suppose. Unique. I'd cleanse you, heal you.

 

 

 

Come. Come swiftly!

 

 

 

I could feel it under your surface. Faint, oh yes, very faint but still there. A little shadow of your own, hmm? Oh, you probably don't even realize it's there. But I'll show you. Ahhh, yes. I'll show you…

 

Impatiently gesturing with my hand, the water convulsed and fought me but I forced it to rise and take form. Casting an illusion over it, you stood before me… but it wasn't you, no more than I—less, in fact. It had no thoughts, could not feel, but looked well enough that I was content.

 

I touched my lips to it, pretending it was you. The lips were cold and lacked your warmth but I needed to have you.

 

Tearing through his—your tunic, I ripped away the fabric, ignoring the tatters that fell back to the water. Your mouth opened in a silent “O” as you stumbled back, a grin curling on my lips. Wide, innocent eyes… I loved the eternity I found in your eyes…

 

Grabbing your chin, I forced your lips to mine again, paying no heed to the chill as I dug my teeth into your lower lip. There was no satisfying taste of tangy copper, only water. I spat it on your fast in disgust, turning my anger on you. I raked my nails over your face. Still, only water. My illusion masked it to look the part but I could only smell water, not your unique spice. That I could not manipulate.

 

I clawed and tore more and more of your clothing away, leaving you in rags before me, cowering at my feet.

 

But that was not how the game was to be played.

 

With a roar, I sank my fist into its chest and the water cascaded with a crash back to its origin, the illusion long since faded.

 

It wasn't you.

 

I had to have you!

 

Hurry, my kicsi farkas. Run. Run as fast as you can for as long as you can. Because soon…

 

 

 

You'll be mine.