#sekiwrite

Link was violently thrown back, hitting the ground hard before rolling to a stop. His sword had been thrown away in the tumble but his shield still clung firmly to his arm. The boy’s entire body ached with the injuries of the fight as he tried to push himself back to his feet. He could hear the leisurely slow metallic steps of his opponent approaching his prone form. 

Link was just able to make it to his hands and knees when a sword’s edge brushed his throat. 

“This has gone on long enough,” the Wyvern Knight’s voice echoed menacingly out of her helm, her voice cold and emotionless. Link’s eyes snapped to the blade just under his chin, she had the gall to use his dropped sword, her own claymore sheathed on her back. 

“You know you cannot defeat me with such abysmal sword skills, child.” Link would be the first to admit that his talent with a blade wasn’t the best, he hadn’t used a sword until this quest, he much preferred the Rito bow his uncle had taught him to wield. But to hear the Wyvern Knight insult his hard earned efforts in swordsmanship felt as though it burned his pride more harshly than her fire did. 

“You shall give me the Dragon’s Wick if you want your head to remain attached to your body,” the Knight continued, heedless of his internal struggle. She did not care what was in her way as long as she got her end prize. The Dragon’s Wick, the ever burning soul fire of the First Dragon, that Link had hunted for and found on his journey all to keep from her. 

And he had failed. 

Link didn’t move as she pulled the Wick’s ceremonial lantern from his belt, didn’t move she stared reverently at the blue-white flame dancing within. He was forced to move when the Knight kicked his battered body away from her and tossed his sword carelessly after him. It stabbed itself into the ground inches from his head. 

The Wyvern Knight’s entire focus was on the lantern in her armoured grasp. She gazed into the flame, it’s light reflecting off the contours and edges of her helm in an ominous display. “Finally,” she breathed, so quietly that Link almost didn’t hear her. “The power of the dragons is finally mine.” 

It was almost like she had forgotten Link was still present and he used the time to pull himself back to his feet, using his sword to support himself. He made sure to keep as silent as possible, he did not want the Knight’s attention back on him anytime soon. 

“Leave child, there is nothing left for you here.” Link stiffened at her voice, her eyes still on the flames but her focus on him. “There is nothing more you can do to oppose me. The Castle is under my thrall and soon all of Hyrule shall be as well. I will give you one chance to flee my wrath, because I can respect the strength you showed in trying to stop me.” The Wyvern Knight turned sharply from him, the lantern held firm in her claws as metallic wings bloomed from her back with twin bursts of black fire. Without another word she launched herself into the air, the gust threatening to push Link back off his feet. The Knight’s silhouette was gone from the sky in seconds. 

Link finally allowed himself to relax once he was certain she had truly left. He fell to his knees and closed his eyes, his injuries making themselves known with sharp kicks as he rested his head on the hilt of his sword in front of him. Link didn’t have to wait long before the sound of feathers and a thump behind him reached his ears. Footsteps quickly ran up behind him as feathered wings gently brushed his back. 

“Link, sweet Medoh, are you okay? I have a red potion,” the frantic twitters were a balm on his wary soul and Link pried his eyes open to smile at his sister. 

“Hi Sekia.”

“Do not ‘hi’ me, Link!” Sekia puffed her feathers at him in worried aggravation and the pale blue Rito pressed the red potion into his hands, taking his weight into her side so he could be freed of his sword and shield. Link gratefully took the healing concoction and chugged it down, not even wincing at the taste, it was more a comfort at this point. Sekia continued to thoroughly inspect him from any damage that the potion didn’t heal.  

“I’m fine Sekia.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it for myself, Link. I can’t believe I even let you go through with this fluff brained scheme for your’s. She could have killed you!”

Link gently took her questing feathers in his hands. He gave them a quick squeeze, he knew just how close he had been to losing his life and he was sure his nightmares would never let him forget it for a long time, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. A smirk bloomed across his face. 

“I know but Sekia, it worked!”

Sekia stared into his eyes before a tired, relieved smile spread across her beak, “Zelda’s spell worked?”

The Seer rested against the plush cushions of her home as they approached. The Paladin stopped at the threshold of light and waited for her to make the first move, but it seemed they did not have to hold long. 

The elderly moth turned her soft eyes on the Radiance’s Champion. “Welcome back young one. What a pleasure for you to come see me again,” she smiled gently at them, “what a blessing on my lonely soul. You are truly kind to me, little Spirit.” 

Spirit felt a thrill of happiness roll down their shell at the sound of their chosen name. What had started as a scathing insult from Hallownest’s self proclaimed protector had been twisted around to an identity of their own, and the Paladin was quite pleased with the result. They thought they would never get enough of Seer or their friend Qurriel calling them by their name. 

The grave keeper shifted in her pile of bedding, “Come in, come in. Don’t stay standing in the dark, dear one.” Seer patted the space next to her. With a single nod, the Paladin stepped into the light of the many lumafly lamps, leaving their nail resting on the edge of the carpeted space. Settling down with their fellow moth, Spirit instantly felt their entire body relax, finally able to release all the pent up tension from the past few days. Meeting the senile ex-queen of Hallownest had been a mentally trying experience and the moth had been glad to leave the bound Root to her delusions of the past. 

The Paladin startled slightly when a gentle claw started weaving through the fluff of their neck and found themself relaxing farther. Spirit leaned into the cushions underneath them, one antenna barely bushing Seer’s wing. Her claw continued to weave through their fur and the white moth let out a silent sigh of contentment. This sensation was still new to them and they drank in the affection greedily. The elder moth chuckled quietly from above them, “I am glad you enjoy it, dear one. I remember how my own mother put me to sleep in such a way when I was just a larva.” 

Spirit could feel their eyes drooping behind their mask just as Seer had said and gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement. They were feeling very sleepy under her ministrations and they could not fight to keep their eyes open. 

Seer’s claw run over the Paladin’s antennae before returning to their fur. “Dream well, little Spirit. I shall be here once you awaken.”

“The King has found his chosen.” 

That simple phrase was enough to send Wellspring shooting up from where they had been leaning against the bench. The gardener turned to look at their companion. Shroud, apprentice to Lurien the Watcher and their fellow failed vessel, continued to gaze out of the glass window of the Queen’s Garden veranda. Wellspring couldn’t see their sibling’s expression from where they sat and Shroud’s body language gave nothing away. ‘Much like the Watcher himself,’ the gardener mused to themself. 

“You mean, his majesty has finally found his Pure Vessel? After all this time?” It was a shock to even contemplate. The King’s plan had been in its second stage for longer than either vessel had been alive. To think that a perfectly empty vessel had been found, Wellspring had thought it impossible. The gardener couldn’t remember much of the Abyss before entering the White Lady’s service as a gift from the King, just everlasting darkness, aching roots and wings and a single minded climb. If their cloaked sibling remembered anything of their own escape, Shroud had never shared with them. 

“That is why Master Lurien and I came to the palace today. His majesty is introducing it to all his chosen Dreamers. Queen Herrah of Deepnest and Lady Monomon were in attendance as well.” 

Wellspring cocked their head to the side, “then why are you not by the Watcher’s side?” 

Shroud’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, the first sign of emotion from them since the topic of the Pure Vessel was brought up. “His majesty does not want any possible negative influences to taint his chosen knight,” they answered quietly. 

Wellspring felt a surge of anger on the behalf of their sibling, “That’s a load of moss rot, how dare he ever imply-!” 

The Watcher’s Apprentice cut them off with a raised hand and finally turned around to face their indignant sibling. “I thank you for your passionate defense of my character, Wellspring. Master Lurien argued in my favor but it was not meant to be.” Shroud smiled at them, “so I instead took this opportunity to visit with my favorite sibling instead.” 

The gardener’s angry stuttered to a halt and was fast replaced with bashfulness. “Well,” the winged vessel coughed into their fist, “I am very happy you came to see me. It’s much nicer out here than in the stuffy halls of the palace,” Wellspring said with no small amount of pride in their voice. 

Shroud chuckled, “Certainly. You have done an amazing job at tending to the gardens, as always.” 

“Of course, to expect anything else from the great and talented Wellspring, the White Lady’s personal gardener, is the height of folly!” 

Wellspring smiled as their sibling burst into full laughter, happy to have been able to raise Shroud’s mood from their earlier despondency. The mood never stayed bright whenever the conversation turned to the matter of their little siblings still in the Abyss. 

It was a train of thought that Wellspring tried to avoid if at all possible, for there was nothing they could do to help their fellow vessels. The gardener had never been tolerated in the King’s presence, despite the Queen’s persistence. Wellspring hadn’t had a face to face encounter with the Pale King since the time they had been gifted to the White Lady. Despite their Lady’s reassurances that it was through no fault of their own, the winged vessel found themself perfectly happy with never having to get close to the King ever again. Wellspring had found a mothering figure in the Queen and through her a job they loved and they were happy for it. 

The gardener viewed Shroud as the unlucky one of the two in regards to the King. They both garnered the same disregard but the Watcher’s Apprentice had to be in the Pale Wyrm’s presences on numerous occasions due to the position of their master. The cloaked vessel had confessed to Wellspring that being in the King’s presence was an exhausting experience. If the gardener hadn’t known that their quiet sibling was well loved by the denizens of the Spire, they would have taken matters into their own hands. 

Shroud signed quietly and brought Wellspring’s attention back to the present. Their cloaked sibling slid into the seat beside them on the wrought iron bench and settled their robes comfortably around themself. ‘Definitely not the type for clothes for dirty work,’ the gardener thought absently. 

“You alright?” Wellspring questioned softly. 

Shroud sighed again, “I cannot help but feel that something will go horribly wrong, it might be just my own paranoia but it is a feeling I can’t seem to push aside,” the Watcher’s Apprentice shook their head, as if trying to dislodge the aforementioned sensation. “Master Lurien will not tell me the specifics of his part to play in the King’s plan and it concerns me greatly.”

Wellspring felt their heart go out to Shroud. The gardener was fairly sheltered by the fact that they rarely left the gardens and got most of their news on current events from the Queen or their sibling. They gently clasped the other vessel’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. Shroud inclined their head and returned the grip, both siblings needing each other’s support in these uncertain times. 

“If you ever need anything, do not be afraid to come to me.” Wellspring winked their right eyes, “I’m not sure how effective a trowel or a pair of clippers will be but I can make it work,” they said, voice overflowing with showy confidence. 

“As long as you remember the same extends to you as well,” Shroud returned, “by my word, the Spire will always be open to you.” 

Wellspring nuzzled their fellow vessel much to the other’s surprise. “Thank you, dearest sibling.”