infeliicis:
Playing off her smug smile as a little giggle by covering her mouth with a hand, she scratched out her drawing, grinding her heel through the dirt.
Wisdom first. How interesting. And that sour attitude… This one had promise, indeed.
“People are dumb, you know? They don’t look at shadows. Don’t check to see who might be hiding in them. So I watch. I learn. And I’ve learned quite a bit about who’s who and what’s what in this brave new world we’ve entered.”
Rising onto her tiptoes, she pointed toward the cluster of buildings poking over the rocky crest of foothills surrounding Death Mountain.
“For example, Kakariko over there? That’s the center of Hylian population, right now. Keep your eyes open if you go there; it’s a hornet’s nest. Everyone’s throwing their weight behind one of two candidates for the throne. They’ll try to get you on their side, if you show any kind of power or promise.”
How would that news hit her new toy, she wondered? Would she be rattled? Blase? Angry, perhaps? The answer was important.
The spirit within? It told her that she should be weary here. Told her that something was amiss and caution was required. WARNING that this path was fraught with naught but the wrong decision. The being without? She told her that people were stupid and they were not looking at the shadows. Those words resonated within her. Those were words she’d spoken before- in one light or another.
Gaze tracked to the village in the shadow of death, where light and dark were hiding together, tensions mounting, and power sought... She truly hadn’t left Hyrule. This land- this world would tear itself apart in any context.
“Does either candidate bear royal blood? Does either candidate serve the princess’ will and wishes? Or are people scrambling for power, like they always do when their mother leaves home?” She turned away from Kakariko, toward the ‘nameless shadow’ that reminder her more and more of the voices she tried so hard not to hear in her sleep.
“You clearly have power. The abyss isn’t so easily traversed, your promise is high... But if I were to march down to the village and ask after you, I’m sure none would know a thing.” She’s not saying anything in particular, simply... probing. She’s no problem following the words or directives of abstract concepts with familiar faces and voices. She’s been coronated and blessed by doing as such. She just- She’s learned to be somewhat cautious about the voids she cast her gazes into...
She fights not to press a hand to the scar on her stomach. Give up no weakness. Not yet.
