CHAPTER TWO
Escape from the Dungeon
For a moment, she looked startled.
And I completely understood.What else would I be here for?
This, however, only lasted all of about ten seconds.
“Don’t you know there’s no sense in you being here?” Destiny said irritably, as if she was explaining the obvious to a small child.
‘Don’t you know you’re not supposed to eat grass?’
I was bemused.
I must have looked it, as well, because then she explained.
In the same tone.
“This is the lowest level of the castle-” She pointed vaguely in the general direction of her surroundings. “-I’m going to die five floors up-” She pointed that same index finger skyward. “-So why aren’t you up there?”
“I’m sorry,” I said mockingly, with a smile, “Am I ruining your day? Did you want to die? Should I leave?”
“Any day I spend with you is a day wasted,” she replied.
“Same here,” I said, remembering that she had gotten that statement from me. “Have a nice afterlife, then.”
I turned around, and started walking back towards the door.
“Wait!” she called out suddenly.
I froze.
And then I revisited the cell, “You called?”
I knew she hadn’t really wanted me gone; someone…anyone…to talk to was infinitely better than no one, in her state.
It was just her pride stabbing her logic’s eye out.
She was silent for a moment, as if inwardly, fiercely debating whether or not to ask me, and then…slowly…she said it.
“If you didn’t come down here…to shove this in my face…what did you come down here for?”
She looked up at me, waiting for my answer.
Although she could do no wrong, she certainly wasn’t psychic.
Thus she did not expect the one that I offered.
“To help you escape,” I replied calmly.
Destiny, at this, however, was anything but calm.
At first, she looked indignant…
…Then, she burst out laughing.
I failed to see the humor in this sentence.
I rolled my eyes, “What?”
“You?” Destiny said, on the verge of tears. “You want to help me escape? I recommend you abandon that mission…because as bad as the living conditions are here…most of us still have all of our limbs…and we’d like to keep it that way, thank you.”
Footsteps echoed above our heads, reverberating off of the steadily-dripping stone ceiling. Each one was its own earthquake.
No doubt that they were that of Zeppelin’s mutants.
Everyone fell silent, and we all looked up and listened.
A minute or so later, they ceased.
“You won’t have much need of them in an hour,” I pointed out.
“Yes…true…but what can you do?”
“Not much…” I admitted.
I gripped the bars of the cell gate tight with one hand, and soon soft lavender light illuminated my fingers. I waited for a moment, and then I let go, and the gate shot upward, absorbed by the metal above it. My mother hadn’t had to so much as tap it for this to work, but I had often had to use different techniques to achieve her same ends.
The only setback about this was the hours I had to spend figuring out exactly what those techniques were.
Destiny raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Well…I’m impressed.”
“So am I,” I said, staring at my hand.
The other prisoners almost immediately began shouting at me to release them, as well. They offered me bribes – anything from bread, to horses, to their own children – and said it wouldn’t be fair if only she was let out, but, seeing as how I didn’t particularly feel like roasting on a wooden pole today, and then pondering how hard it would be to escape with Destiny from the castle alive with fifteen extra idiots who didn’t know the meaning of the words ‘shut up’, I elected to ignore them once again.
Society was far better off without them screwing it up, anyway...
It was far better off without Destiny, too, come to think of it…
But for some odd reason, I couldn’t let her die like I could the rest.
Not on a clear conscience.
Maybe it was the fact that I had known her so long, or that she’d risked life and limb to save my father, but I felt a sort of vague emotional attachment to her. It was hard to explain, even harder to comprehend.
“Well?” I said impatiently, standing in front of the archway.
She raised one arm silently, displaying to me a thick, clinking and rattling chain – previously coiled on the floor –that was attached to her wrist by a sort of metal bracelet. She brought her elbow back behind her slowly, and then thrust the arm outward, pulling on it.The other end of the chain – perhaps by magic – was attached firmly to the wall that she leaned against. She strained, but it did nothing. Soon it became clear that no amount of jerking, twisting, tugging or pulling could possibly set that end loose.
Destiny wasn’t going anywhere.
Even now that bars didn’t hold her back.
Maybe my mission had been futile.
The days after Destiny moved in with us were some of the most mentally stressful and physically aggravating of my life.The mental stress came from desperately fighting not to let her win me over, as well, and from trying to keep track of what training session of hers I was supposed to watch when, where, while constantly asking myself ‘Why?’
Thus comes the physically aggravating bit.
Every time that I decided to show up, and witnessed her defying the laws of physics, gravity, and, well…humanity, my mother and father would often point her out as a living example of the kind of warrior that I should be by birthright. “Sheik, why can’t you be more like Destiny, the daughter we never had?”
And I had to try so hard not to slap her upside the head.
More than once, the daughter they never had locked me outside the castle in the evening.
Only sometimes were there guards to let me in.
Sometimes, they had all been dismissed home.
Guess by whom?
Whether it was in the snow, in the rain, or in bitterly icy winds, I would lean against the high stone wall, thanking the goddesses that I was not a homeless peasant, and did not have to do this every day.
My arm ached.
My hand ached.
My teeth clenched.
And all of the rest of me was numb.
I gripped the chain tight, and my hand glowed again, lighting up part of her face. A shell of what it once was, the expression on it was one of both fatigue and relief. I waited, and then I let go, and the chain shot upward, pulling her arm up with it as it went.
She let out a scream, but quickly silenced herself.
Smart, that one.
When the chain had reached its full length, it fell to the floor, motionless, and still very much intact. My and her faces fell with it.
“Great,” she said, with a hint of a suppressed moan. “Now what?”
I didn’t know what to tell her.
I didn’t want to tell her that I was out of ideas.
That she was as good as dead now.
The dungeon door swung wide open again, and this time obviously the visitor wasn’t me. It could have been Zeppelin for all I knew, to tell me that my time was up. It could have been one of her loyal minions, to chain Destiny’s arms and legs, and then drag her up the stairs to her death. Or…
“Sheik? What are you doing here?”
…it could have been Phillip Pysing.
One of her only loyal hylian minions.
“Phillip!” exclaimed Destiny immediately – it was painfully clear from her face and tone that she was much more relieved to see him than me – “Phillip, please, you have to help me!”
Phillip stood where he was.
She wasn’t recognized as honorary royalty anymore.
She didn’t command him.
“Phillip, please!” she repeated. “If you don’t, I’ll die!”
He walked towards us, and stepped through the archway.
He looked up at it, “I wonder how this happened.”
He knew perfectly well that it was my fault, but I as sure as all hell wasn’t about to confirm it. He was completely ignoring Destiny, and I could not tell him otherwise – why should he help her? Zeppelin would murder her before a crowd of hundreds, he thought…and as of now, I was beginning to agree…and then he would be the encore.
An example to all future rebels.
No, he wasn’t going to risk it.
I admit…the fact that I was made me all the more idiotic.
“I don’t know how it happened,” I replied. “I came to visit her, and…now I’m just making sure she’s where she’s supposed to be.”
“A likely story,” he said, “Since when are you loyal to Zeppelin?”
“Well…” I began, slowly and uncertainly, and although it couldn’t possibly have been more of a B.S. declaration, even if I had practiced in front of a mirror all night, it still pained me to say it. “I think that…Zeppelin has…granted the two of us a lot. She’s been wonderful to us. She has granted us our lives…we are not her slaves or prisoners…and…I still have my title. You do, as well. I have personal servants, and a roof over my head. I think it’s time that maybe…I was a little more grateful to her.”
If there really are three powers-that-be up there, then they will make me forget I ever said that.
Otherwise…
It’s going to haunt me.
For a moment, he studied me closely – perhaps he knew that I was lying, wouldn’t surprise me at all – before he smiled in approval, and said:
“Alright, then…I shall tell Zeppelin our prisoner is ready for her trial.”
He left the room to set about this, but not before first stationing two hulking beasts outside to help me guard Destiny’s cell (Brilliant work, Sheik, I must say!), and while they were doing so…blocking the only way out, of course…they eyed the residents of the nearby cells like a starving transient would eye a hot meal…because…well…that was exactly what they were.
Destiny and I stood fixed to the spot (not that she had much of a choice, really…), trapped once again without any locks, chains (save for one, but it wasn’t nearly as scary as they were), or iron bars, unable to believe what we had just heard.
How could he just hand her over like that?!
Was he really so terrified?
No.
No, ‘terrified’ wasn’t the right word at all.
Was he really so spineless?
“Alright, genius…what do we do now?” Destiny muttered.
“We panic,” I replied calmly, after a moment of thought.
“That’s the best you can come up with?”
“I could throw in the running-around-in-circles bit, if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”
“Okay. Then shut up.”
We watched them, just staring, and occasionally they would stare back at us. Most often, though, their attention was focused on the other prisoners, backed up against their cell walls like Destiny.
The tusks frightened them.
The claws frightened them.
And so did the eyes.
I think the smell may have factored in somehow, as well.
They couldn’t figure any way out of here…and neither could we.
Well…I came, I tried, and I failed…nothing more I can do, right?
Now where was I in that whole storytelling business…?
Castletown’s archery tournament from hell…the orphanage…Destiny moving in and torturing me…
Oh…that’s right. Nothing of any real importance to this story happened until the eve of her fifteenth birthday.
Mother and father held a ball in honor of it…
Where was mine?
“Good evening, Sir Everston. Pleasant day, Lord Bennett. Lady Ashford, I am pleased to announce that you are looking younger and thinner than ever. And her adorable daughter, Miss Isabella Ashford-Clarke! Quite a catch that your father found for you, am I right? I see you still haven’t done anything about that mustache…ah, but of course, Sir Gregory! Your finances toward the schoolhouse have gone quite a ways; the five-year-olds who can’t tell a turnip from a carrot will be pleased.”
He paused for a moment to bow slightly to me, and then continued on his way into the throne room, his brown eyes no doubt having wandered over to the woman of the hour.
You know…the one who signed me up as her honorary greet-and-coat-boy?
Yes.
That one.
My own pair – a dark blue, gleaming in the torch light – wandered down the hallway, until it rounded off into a corner, and I couldn’t see what was beyond it. Sorry to say, there weren’t any new arrivals coming into view, and the guests already there…well, none of them were a thirteen-year-old merchant’s daughter named Emma. Whatever seldom positive vibes that night had been giving off for me disappeared in an instant – I had planned to ask her to marry me.
With as little enthusiasm as possible, I greeted the remaining people still standing at the door, and then at last, I walked through myself to have a seat. There was only one person joining me on the sidelines, and I didn’t blame them, really. The wallflower seats, as I referred to them, had gold cushions, emblazoned – as was just about everything else in this place – with the Triforce, and were comfortable as all hell.
Calm down, Sheik, I thought to myself, running a hand through my hair and smoothing it, she will almost certainly only be a few minutes longer.
Had I even remembered to invite her?
Goddesses, what if I hadn’t?
I could imagine going off on her tomorrow for not being there, only to find out that she thought that she was not welcome.
“Hello there.”
That was quick, I thought, astonished.
I opened my eyes.
“Oh…” I rolled them. “It’s just you.”
Her hair was much longer and duller than Emma’s, her eyes the same shade, but her facial features, her tanned complexion, vastly different. They were the facial features of the devil.
She smiled down at me, “Who did you guess?”
“What do you want?” I asked irritably. “Don’t you have five million other people to talk to over there?”
I gazed over at the crowd standing on the shining marble floor, reflected on it, mingling and waltzing. “They’re waiting for you.”
“They can keep waiting,” Destiny told me plainly. “Come. Dance with me.”
“Hold on, let me…ponder this for a short moment…” I replied, actually thinking about it. “Dance with you…or contract a fatal disease. I’ll take the fatal disease. Goodbye now.”
“It’s my birthday, Sheik.” She almost appeared hurt.
“I would not care if it was your birthday today, and your death day tomorrow. It isn’t going to happen.”
“Mother and father will not be happy to hear about this.”
There she went again, with the whole what’s-yours-is-mine-now-too thing. Didn’t she realize that if my parents really were hers…her flirting with me would be even more disturbing than it already was? With that, she turned, and went to pester someone else like I had told her to.
Maybe half an hour passed then. Half an hour I spent waiting. I looked at the ceiling (sun-yellow, with patches of silver), around the vast room at the people who weren’t counting the minutes until this whole shebang was over…and still…Emma never walked through the doors.
At this point, I was really worried that I hadn’t invited her.
I rose from my chair a few moments later, wondering if, perhaps, it was the fault of the guards, keeping her at the gates, or sending her home.
I swore they would have hell to pay if that was the case.
No one, aside from Destiny and my parents (who were seated atop the throne, which rested atop a higher platform, so they pretty much had a fantastic view of everything, whether they cared to see it, or not…) glanced at me as I walked out, lost in their own worlds.
Rounding the corner that previously had been my eyes’ obstruction, and going a short ways further past it, past meticulously detailed portraits, paintings dictating famous war victories, my family crest, and so forth, the air seemed to drop around twenty degrees, fresher, with almost a sweetened fragrance. It was a welcome relief, when compared to the somewhat stifling room I had just been in.
The December wind rushed through the open drawbridge.
Standing in front of it, I looked around – as I had expected, the place was crawling with knights and guards, fully–armored, swords and spears at the ready, all entirely for this occasion. Four waited at the other end of the drawbridge, their backs to me, and their eyes sharp in the darkness. They stood close enough to the castle’s small, surrounding moat that I thought one strong wind might thrust them back into it.
Ten stood at attention at the castle’s front steps.
Emma did not.
Twenty-five patrolled the white stone walkway.And who knows how many more of them there were on the field, or at the gate leading to the trail leading to the castle’s front steps?
…Why do we even have that gate?
“Phillip,” I addressed him, basically and stridently, as he started on his way past the drawbridge – he was easily recognizable, with his uniform far more colorful and elaborate than the rest of the bleak gray sheep putting their left in front of their right. Startled, he froze, looking over.
“Your highness,” he addressed me, likewise basically.
Then he stared, possibly waiting for some sort of order.Off the top of my head, I had none to give.
“Has Emma arrived yet?”
“Whom, your highness? I do not recall…”
Of course.
She was such low-class grime, why trouble to remember her?
“Emma, Phillip,” I said callously. “Emma Dawood, my merchant-class best friend. Have you seen her anywhere?”
He sounded a bit regretful at this next statement.“No, sire, I am afraid that I have not.”
I cannot say truthfully that I did not expect that answer…
…But that did not mean that I despised it any less.
“Alright, then,” I said at last, following a minute of disappointment, stillness and concern. “I’ll find her.”
“The Lord and Ladyship,” which is what Phillip sometimes had a nasty habit of referring to my mother and father as, “requested that you remain on castle grounds for the duration of the celebration.”
“The Lord and Ladyship are mad if they imagine that I will.”
And, furious, I strode right past him, knowing that there was nothing on Din’s crimson earth that he could do to obstruct me.
What I was to find after that, after I paced down the trail to the gateway, and then had an animated argument with the guards posted there – they presented me with the exact same argument that Phillip had, adding that there had been some type of problem on the other side recently; it was certainly no place for me to be wandering…
What I was to find after that…
Well…
It was not pleasant.
“Sheik?”
Destiny’s present tone of voice – mournful, almost begging – shocked me out of my recollections. I looked down at her with a not-quite-but-getting-there sympathetic expression…
…Am I sick, or something?
“Yes?” I asked her.
“I don’t want to die, Sheik…”
She then buried her head in folded arms.
“No one does, Des’...but…”
Okay, at this time, I should say that Zeppelin was correct…
What aren’t I terrible at?
This would include giving uplifting pep talks.
“…But…well…when you die, you’ll…you’ll be in a better place. Away from Zeppelin…”
Ooh, now there’s something.
“…Away from social status…away from total male world dominion…and…and, you’ll be far away from me, I assure you.”
She smiled – this too was a prelude to a laugh.
“Okay…now I feel better…”
I returned her smile, “Good.”
“You know…” Destiny told me, “I’m kind of thankful you came.”
Well, this was a shocker.
“Really?”
“Of course…your visit reminded me of old times.”
I laughed somewhat forcedly.
“Remember that one time…” she began, looking up at the ceiling. “I was so envious of her…of your friend, I mean, and…”
“And you shoved her down the well.”
“Yes!” This time she laughed, only it didn’t sound forced at all. “And then you went in to rescue her…”
“And she had broken her leg, and I could not bring her up the ladder with me.” My recollections of this event were obviously much darker than hers were.
“…Well,” she defended herself, “you did manage to get her out…”
“Yes.” Some of that old, familiar bitterness was returning. “After waiting three hours down there for my father to arrive and help me.”
She changed subject, noticing that she was striking a nerve.
“Do you know of any other spells?” she asked.
I looked back down at her, “Of course. I know every one there is.”
“Any to knock them out?”
She referred to the beasts.
“Unfortunately, no…but I could make the furry one hack up a hairball. That should be quite entertaining to watch. I find that I am quite skilled with metal. I can...repair a sword, bend it, rust it, make it vanish...”
She stopped me there. “Sheik, you idiot.”
“Yes,” I replied, realizing what I had just said. “Yes, I am.”
Kneeling once more, I placed my hand over the chain, setting about the task of aging it – and therefore rusting it – several hundred years. I hoped, because it was in a rather intimate relationship with her arm at the moment, that the scarlet radiance emanating from my palm would not affect her, as well.
Bless the goddesses, and at the same time curse them…it didn’t.
The guard positioned on the opposite wall of the gate stamped his spear twice into the dirt, and, slowly, it slid open for me.
As soon as there was an opportunity to and space enough, I walked through the newly-formed break, by doing so officially leaving the castle grounds behind me. Antony warned me then that I would not like what I was about to see...
I would not like it at all…
But I did not listen to him.
I did not care to turn around, and go back to…
No, definitely not.
Instead, I only wondered what he had meant by it.
I wondered it as I turned the corner, passing the vines that my father had used to meet my mother so many eons ago (Why someone hadn’t torn them down yet, if they were so apprehensive about security, I do not know. Some stupid eleven-year-old could just…walk right in…), as I traveled down the dirt road leading to Castletown...
...and…
…as I stopped…
…similar to the way I had just two years before…
…at the face of a broad, thunderous crowd.
It was like the archery tournament, I observed.
It was almost unerringly like it.
They were all looking at something…
Something they couldn’t quite believe they were looking at…
It was unthinkable…
To some, it was horrific…
Why was this happening?
How did it come to be?
When? When did this happen?
Mostly, it was unthinkable and horrific to the family, and I felt for them so, because I knew what they were going through.
I myself was experiencing it, although they were not aware.
And maybe I was not aware of the full extent to which I was.
I was aware of feeling like I was going to throw up at any given moment…aware of that ghastly plummeting sensation in the pit of my stomach as I stared at the same thing that they did…
…aware that…
…aware that…
The impressive ring that I had been toying with slipped from my grasp, producing a minute clang, hanging in the air and ringing, as it battered the stone. I wasn’t sure whether or not I cared if someone stole it.
A young girl – beautiful, slender, short in standing, and with a heart of chaste gold that was no longer beating – lie sprawled out on the stone walkway surrounding the well. Her raven tresses were all around her, some shadowing her face, some reddened with her blood.
Her dress was all but painted with it.
This was the problem on the other side of the gate.
This was what Antony had tried to tell me about.
This was what everyone in the crowd had been staring at.
I was all too aware that I would never see Emma again.
What on Din’s crimson earth had I done to deserve it?