#shadowcrowned

“I don’t understand how you can say that!”

The words were shouted as the young woman came just short of giving into her temper and flinging an ornate metal goblet across the room. To say she was angry would be underselling the emotions racing through her at the moment. Anger. Frustration! And also a desperate, unending sensation of being left out and being less than.

The two twili were near identical, though her hair was a bit shorter and darker, as was the woman herself. It clearly marked her as being the younger of the two - the princess, the replacement child, the one who would always stand in the shadows unless disaster struck.

bro, dont worry bro i got a shoulder for you right here.

“That’s...” Asra trailed off, failing to settle on an adjective. Her aura was like a shadow, spectral and blurred, barely definable into a shape and near-indecipherable from the world’s gloom. She radiated the same deleterious energy as the landscape, prickling up his spine with a sense of foreboding. 

It should have been frightening. Would have been, for most anyone else. But Asra wasn’t afraid. 

Hmm... Starters

@shadowcrowned

“Is that so? Good. That saves me the trouble of explaining it. Because, I have no idea what’s going on either.” Link sighed deep, watching his fishing line as two Bokoblins seemed to be in a heated discussion somewhat behind him. 

He never expected Midna.

Sure he’d had the occasional fever dream of her actually coming to see him, but they’d been just that. He’d always been sick and they never happened at any other time. He’d been given a piece of the mirror and knew Midna’s wishes of it not being assembled.

” Mid...na? ... How...? “

       “Another---elf?”  Soren tilted his head in confusion. However, he had never seen this one before. If that made any sense at all. The Knight couldn’t really wrap his head around it. Maybe, a moonshadow elf? No. She didn’t look like one, “Uh--Please don’t kill me?”

The blade easily sliced through the palm of his hand, causing deep red blood to well up from the wound. Link didn’t hesitate before smearing it over the flat, smooth surface of the rock. The symbol there had been previously etched with chalk and he was tracing over it, completing the symbol. It was the last part necessary for the spell, the one that would hopefully-- that would maybe--

His palm itched as Link took a step back. He could feel the blood dripping down the lengths of his fingers, droplets falling from his fingertips to splatter against the ground below, but nothing else. The symbol wasn’t glowing. There was no dramatic cracking of the rock, no crevice opening in the ground. 

He had done so much to get to this point and there was... nothing?

“No...” A hand - his uncut one - pressed against his face as Link tried to push down the urge to just start bawling. After everything he had done-! “Midna...”