An eerie silence had settled over the Twilight Palace. When the wind blew through the Palace garden, the bushes and growth refused to rustle, as if they did not dare break the silence. Even the hawks that normally flew around the Palace were perched nonchalantly on the ledges and windowsills. The burnt copper cloud of Twilight hung still in the amber sky, as if moving would somehow create noise.

When Zant was dead at last, the grotesque spell that he had cast on the Twilight Realm was lifted. Sensing the absence of threat, the Twili emerged from their hiding places. Upon doing this, they noticed that their realm regained their former beauty, and so had they. Their faces were no longer round lumps of flesh with two circular eyes. Instead, each face could now be told apart: sharp, chiseled, elfin, feminine, soft. . . There was plenty of celebration―and plenty of noise―for now the things were back to normal. Naturally, they worried for their Princess, who went missing at the time Zant took over. That jubilant day, there was a large crowd of Twili flooding into the Palace. A mixture of Palace guards, lords, ladies, servants, and even cooks came gushing into the Palace. Only a moment later, when they searched all the halls and rooms of the Palace, did they notice that their beloved princess was not there. Since then, there was silence.

The Twili simply did not know what to do without their Princess. She was what kept them working, like the central cog in a clock. Without her no one could move. The servants that once busily rushed to and fro around the castle were now lazily lying around in their personal quarters, entertaining themselves with their own thoughts. Guards that formerly patrolled the halls of the Palace now permanently stood still, exchanging bored glances.

"What should we do, Syll," asked a boy servant. He was lying flat on his back on the floor of the room, picking at his nails.

The older girl that was sitting in a chair next to him leaned back and sighed. "For the eigth time, Clem, I don't know." With one fluid motion of her arm she took her hand and strung it though her raven-black hair, stretching it out and admiring the way that the light filtered through it.

If Clem was older, this action would have sent the boy's heart into a frenzy, but being the age he was, he was immune to all of this. Although Syll did not know it, most of the Palace pages and servants were infatuated with her. Compared to the other wenches, Syll was a spectral beauty, and the owner of a irresistible natural charm. Unlike most Twili, who had eyes of deep amber or yellow, Syll had pale green eyes; the shade of a young bud that had survived the winter. Yellow, but just with a splash of green. Because of her unusual appearance, most of the other girls were scared of her, and some older women thought that she was a witch.

But Syll was unaware of all of this this, nor did she use these traits to her advantage. When the women scowled at her, she thought it was because she was doing something wrong. When the boys of the castle did not hesitate to do her favors or help her, she thought it was because they were incredibly kind. Quite simply, Syll was the epitome of naïve.

As for Clem, he was one of the youngest servants that was serving at the Palace. Shortly before Zant had taken over the Twilight Realm, Syll had found Clem abandoned on the streets. Emaciated, filthy, and covered in tattered rags of clothing, the boy barely had any energy left to move. Still, he managed to croak out a joke and make Syll laugh. Feeling pity for the boy, Syll took him under her wing. Eventually, she invited him into the Palace, where he agreed to be a servant as long as he was provided with food, water and shelter in return. Ever since then, the boy had been following her around. But Syll didn't mind. Almost everyone avoided her, so it was nice to have someone that cared every once in a while.

Clem had an admirable spirit. He was one of the few unfortunate servants who witnessed the bloody murder of the King. All of the other servants had gone insane, but Clem was an exception. Although he tried to forget it everyday, it was permanently forged into his memory. He remembered it just like yesterday: It was just a normal day for him; as always he was making his daily trip up to the Throne Room to clean the soot off the torches. He never saw the reason why; they would always be re-lit the next day and attract more soot. He never complained though. Upon pushing open the heavy metal doors open, the first thing that he noticed was the atmosphere of the room. Usually it was boring and stuffy, but that day there was something foreboding and. . .evil about the room. The second thing that he noticed was the fact that Zant was arguing with the King. It was a common known fact that the King and his adviser did not get along, but the argument that the two were having that day seemed to be raging out of control. Even the guards seemed to be scared. Clem didn't remember what exactly they were arguing about, but he did remember clearly what happened next. Zant stormed out of the room, kicking over a small table in rage. The King only shook his head and took a long sip of tea out of the cup that was next to him. One moment he was smiling, assuring them that everything was fine, and in the next, he was on the ground, writhing with convulsions.

The guards instantly rushed over, but they stopped short. The King was coughing savagely, spraying out blood from his throat. He twisted in pain on the ground and hissed as he tried to stop it, but it only made things worse. Blood was gushing out of his mouth―no, he was vomiting blood. Yes, Clem thought. That was the right term. Vomiting. The poor servant was close enough to the King so he was splattered with a small amount of blood. But he did not clean it off. He was too shocked to even do anything. Everyone was too shocked. All they did was watch in horrified silence as the King bled his life out. When it was all over, the body of the King lay still. Although it lasted only for a few heartbeats, it seemed to have lasted for an eternity.

No one could figure out what happened that day. The best doctors in the Twilight Realm could not figure out how he had died. There was no sickness in the King's body,and everyone knew that the King was in good health. His death remained a mystery.

Despite the traumatic experience, Clem was as cheerful and happy as ever. And that was what Syll admired about him.

"Without her highness, we're pretty much useless, huh," Clem thought out loud

Syll looked surprised. "Don't think like that. We're not useless. We just don't have anything to do if she's not around. We, uh. . .don't have a purpose. Yeah, that's it."(Later, when she thought back to this conversation, she realized that she was pretty much saying the same thing.)

"Maybe we should find a purpose, then." Clem sat up. "It was fun just laying around here for a while, but you know, it gets old after a while, and―"

He stopped when he heard a faint humming sound fill the room. Confused, he looked around, trying to locate the noise. It seemed to be coming from everywhere, and it was driving him insane. Finally, he turned to Syll. "Do you hear that?"

The young wench looked puzzled. "Hear what."

"That humming sound. Oh come on. I know you can hear it. It's everywhere. Stop that Syll. It's annoying."

"What? I'm not doing anything."

The humming grew louder and more intense and seemed to fill the entire Palace. By this time, it had attracted the attention of everyone in the castle. Clem heard the cries of startled people outside the door, and he ran over to open it. As he stood up, he could feel his muscles aching. After many days of lying around, they had grown used to staying out of activity. Even the walk to the door was an ordeal for him. I'll need to get more exercise soon. . . There were many Twili sticking their heads outside their door, just like he was doing.

"You hear that too, don't you?" He asked.

They nodded their heads and looked around, still trying to locate the noise. Now it was so loud it was unbearable, and seemed to shake the sturdy walls of the Palace. It was almost as if the humming was punishing the Twili for being so quiet. If this kept up, they might have to leave the castle again―

"Hey!"

Everyone looked over at the sound of the voice. It was a young girl. Standing on the tips of her toes, she was looking out one of the tall, nearby windows that had the view of the Palace entrance and pointing to something outside. "Look! Over there!" she called out.

The Twili, including Clem, left their doorways and ran over to her, trying to get a look. Clem tried his hardest to claim a space by the window, but the other adults packed close together, making it impossible to pass through. When they gasped in awe, it only made the poor boy more curious. His brow furrowed in irritation at the adults immaturity. Giving up on trying to go with the crowd, he padded over to another window and looked out.

There, near the entrance, was a ball of white light. Because of their sensitive eyesight, the Twili were not very fond of light. It hurt their eyes, and at the extremities, blinded them. Some Twili even considered light to be cursed. Considering that the Twili were Light dwellers exiled into this land, they were right. In a way. But for some reason, the light at the entrance was mesmerizing. No one could look away as it grew larger and larger. However, when it engulfed the entire land, it forced everyone to close their eyes. When they opened them (to their wild surprise, may I add) there was their princess, standing tall and proud. The humming had stopped. A collective sigh of relief rang out through the hall.

As if on cue, Midna stepped out of the light. As soon as her foot left it, it receded into the shadows, never to be seen again. She watched it fade, knowing that that was the last bit of the Realm of Light she would ever see.

When it disappeared, she looked at her surroundings. Midna was glad that her Realm had been freed from Zant's spell. Before it was as if the Realm was frozen in the darkness of night. Now, it had returned to its former state; an entire realm frozen in at the time of the sunset. Oh, If only Link could see this. . .No! She chided herself. I am not going to distract myself with thoughts of him anymore. I need to move on with my life―

"Your Highness!"

"You're back!"

She turned at the sound of a voices. Two Entrance guards were trotting over in her direction. The princess did her best to smile. "Yes?"

"Oh, thank the cloud of Twilight that you're safe!"

"We thought that Zant had killed you. Or even worse," he scowled. "Those dreaded Light dwellers might have taken you hostage."

"Zant did not kill me. And the Light dwellers, they're called Hylians, and they're not evil at all. Most of them are very nice. The reason why I'm still alive is because one helped me." And in thanks I left him.

"Don't be ridiculous, your highness," The other guard said. "They're the reason why we're here in the first place. If it wasn't for them, Zant wouldn't have taken over."

That's not their fault.

"Those matters aside, your highness, we must get you to your room immediately." The other guard linked his arm in hers, which Midna allowed. "After all this time without the proper care, you must be tired."

The three left the clearing for the princess's room. The guards continued to talk about how glad they were to see that she was safe, and when they entered the Palace, the other servants crowded around her and told her that they were grateful for her safe return. Of course, Midna believed them, and she was glad to be reunited with her people. But deep inside of her, there was a part that longed to be back in the land of Hyrule with Link.