World Tree MUSH

  One of the buildings amidst Snowpeak's sprawl of ruins is a temple dedicated to the Goddess Hylia. Ubiquitous throughout Hyrule, these places of worship tend towards simple and austere interiors, with stone-hewn benches, a basin at the forward part of the chamber, filled to about waist depth with water. A statue of the goddess presides over the typical temple; set on an altar, carved with love and care in flowing robes. Her long hair is partly braided. Her expression is a benevolent Mona Lisa smile with eyes closed.

  The temple of Snowpeak is no different. Late afternoon sun filters through high glass windows, freshly repaired. Debris and snow have been cleared out of the temple, and the whole of it has been cleaned; most of the work was done by Zelda herself.

  It's here that Zelda has beckoned her half-Esper guest. Terra will find the princess standing in the basin at its deepest point, and she's the spitting image of the goddess wrought in stone -- forward locks of her hair braided in exactly the same manner, the rest loose; freshly washed and combed, it almost looks coppery in the filtered sunlight. She's also clad in a ceremonial dress of white with intricate sigils sacred to the goddesses and the kingdom embroidered over the front, back, and hems of its billowing sleeves.

  She doesn't seem to mind the water in the least. It's quite warm, a natural spring, in fact; steam curls from the surface. Zelda's hands are clasped before her, head down, eyes closed, murmuring prayer in language so archaic that it's almost hard to follow what she's saying.

  Honestly, she looks like a priestess more than a princess.

    The lengthening afternoon shadows serve as an ample indicator that it is in fact time. Terra hurries through the wonderfully restored manor toward the temple as agreed earlier. She's not sure what to expect, having never attempted to commune with a higher power on purpose. It's certainly enough to make her feel uneasy.

    Still, she arrives at the entrance to the shrine, bootheel clicking softly on the immaculate stonework. The sound of it makes her suddenly very self conscious, as if she may be profaning this place merely by making a sound louder than Zelda's murmured prayer. She's without her weapon and she's divested herself of her relatively thin cloak and and nearly all of her bangles and accessories. It didn't seem proper to dress more ornately than her generous hostess but she didn't think to ask for an alternative. So here we are.

    Lingering by the door for several beats before daring to approach or even announce herself she finally, tentatively, sucks in a breath to call out to Zelda.

    "Sheik?"

  Although her back is turned to the door, the princess raises her head at the sound of Terra's soft question. She turns around a moment later, hands trailing in the steaming water. For a moment it obscures her face; for a moment her presence seems by far more powerful than the statuary behind her. Zelda is, at least in this place, very much in her element.

  "Be welcome here, Terra Branford." Zelda's voice is soft. Despite that, there is a gravity and presence to it that seem as commanding as Hylia's statue. She dips her head faintly in acknowledgement. "You may enter the basin, if you wish, though if you prefer not to I will understand. The shock of cold air when you leave is... unpleasant."

  That probably explains why there's a towel and a thick robe draped over the closest benches, waiting, and a mug of what looks like something hot. Even with the structure more or less fully sealed the air is still cold.

  "Ah... no." She smiles, but the flicker of an expression is wan. "That is to say, I must apologise for my deception. I have not been fully honest with you. Sheik is not my name; there is no record within the kingdom of such a person. The name is taken from the Sheikah tribe, who once guarded and served the royal family of Hyrule. The last of them died out long ago."

  She takes a half-step toward Terra, water rippling around her. "My name is not Sheik. My name is Zelda. I am no servant of the Royal Family of Hyrule... but the last daughter of the royal line itself. I must apologise for my deception, Terra Branford. Hyrule finds itself in dark times, and it is safer if the royal family remains 'dead,' at least for a little while yet."

  Zelda straightens, regarding Terra with such preternatural calm that it might be a little unnerving to the slightly skittish half-Esper. There's something more in those eyes than simple kindness and compassion. There's something old in them, frighteningly old, and knowing; but over what, it's hard to say.

  She inclines forward in a bow that is shallow -- royalty does not bow before mortals, but Zelda is less rigid than most -- but the gesture is still very much one of respect.

  "Be welcome in the Temple of Hylia. I pray that you find peace, here. Come, then. What is it that you would you ask the Author of Law?"

    Taking it all in at once is just a touch overwhelming. Never before, at least not by her reckoning, has she seen anything so lovely, somber, majestic- it's hard to put it to words. It's enough that she feels almost guilty looking, at first, though she does rally somewhat at the assurance that she is indeed welcome.

    The basin receives a look and after just a short pause she decides to proceed. Her clothes and boots are removed and neatly folded on one of the stone benches and she replaces them with the robe. Assuming it's fit for being immersed, anyhow, she'll step toward the basin and begin carefully lowering herself. The thought of disrupting the tranquility of this place is rather horrifying to her and so she goes slow.

    "It's... not?" Deception makes her face fall just a little but the explanation is met with a look of confusion and dismay. Is someone trying to use Zelda too? 

    Despite her best efforts, her attention does momentarily wander on that little mental tangeant and when properly fixed with that gaze she lowers a bit in the water, suddenly unsure. Like she's properly face to face with something she can't comprehend.

    The bow takes her completely by surprise and she fails to offer a return gesture, her sense of what to do completely muddled at this point and then, the question. "Thank you. Sorry. I..." Her head, swimming with the potential things she might say, bows briefly. Then she ungraciously, even somewhat desperately blurts, "Who am I really? What am I? What should I do?" Her hands clutch together and she curls her arms to her body, a gesture almost like supplication though it could just be like she's grasping at her answers as much as asking for them.

  "I am sorry." Zelda looks genuinely remorseful at the sight of Terra's dismay, and something in her presence seems to wilt just a little. She may be equipped to rule a kingdom, but she doesn't enjoy some of the less pleasant tasks that means. "Truly."

  She hesitates, then. While common decency states that she owes Terra an explanation, circumstance tells her that caution is wiser. The dichotomy is unsettling.

  "I owe you an explanation," she says instead, softly. "All will be revealed, but now is not the time. Sufficed to say, my life is in danger if my identity were widely known. Only those staying here are aware of it, and I ask only that the deception remain so. To those outside of Snowpeak's walls, I am Sheik, no more than a loyal servant of Hyrule's royal family." Her half-smile is apologetic.

  Zelda turns back to the statue and looks up to the features of Hylia.

  "We will ask one of Hyrule's three creator-goddesses for answers: Nayru, the Author of Law, who poured Her essence over Din's red earth; whose immutable laws are followed by all living things and the land itself. Knowledge is Her purview." Zelda bobs forward in another little bow, hands clasped before herself, strangely elegant despite the abbreviated gesture. "May She lend you the answers You seek, Terra Branford."

  Turning, she clasps her hands, and bows before the statue, deeply; enough so that the ends of her hair are dipped briefly in the sacred spring.

  Nothing seems to happen, at least not right away.

  "O She who poured forth Her essence onto Din's red earth, and gave the spirit of law unto Hyrule." Her voice rises, commanding; confident, filling the temple with a presence that's almost palpable. Despite an almost fragile appearance, this young woman has an impressive presence when she has need of it. Zelda raises her hands as though in supplication of her own, to the statue. Her words are archaic, language so formal that it's almost difficult to follow. "O She who looks after Her children justly and with wisdom, whose blessed eyes see the truth. I beg of You, Author of Law; I pray to You and invoke Your name, as the daughter of Hylia, as she tasked to safeguard her people, to grant me Your truths."

  "Hear the prayer of Your humble servant."

  She glides a step deeper into the basin, then another; as one in a trance. Her eyes drift closed and her hands fold over her heart. "Please." The ancient formality falls away. "Grant this woman the light of Your truths. Please give unto her the answers she seeks; fill the holes in her being..."

  Her voice trails into silence. She doesn't move, though, silent as she stands with her face tilted up to the statue. Her eyes are still closed.

  Hmmm. Ought Terra say something? Or perhaps she waits, just in case Terra experiences any sort of visions or divine revelations...

    It would seem that Terra should never play poker. With her heart on her sleeve as it is, it was more difficult than she thought it would be to hide her feelings for Zelda's sake. Rationally, she understands at least. So, she tries to reassure her host with a little smile. "Sorry, er, it's alright. Really, I just..."

    "Then I won't say a word. I may not understand completely but if it's for your safety then you're Sheik to everyone else." A pause, the half-Esper settling a little deeper in the water. It's warm, comforting. "Thank you. I mean, for giving me a chance." She doesn't elaborate further, in lieu of letting this event unfold.

    Unsure how to behave or what to do with herself during Zelda's prayer, she keeps her head bowed and her mouth shut while her questions echo in her mind.

    Then Zelda's off, sliding deeper into the water. Terra looks up, somewhat confused and perhaps slightly alarmed. Rituals are a new thing, such fervent prayer somewhat concerning but it comes from such a positive place that she's comforted. The tone and the setting just works, even in her addled mind.

    Should she? There's a sudden silence that's unnerving to her after there was previously so much presence. She expected something, impossible to be sure exactly what but then she takes a step. For some reason she moves, she gasps, then loses her balance and slides under the water.

    Whatever it is hits her like a blow to the head and she swoons, eyes wide. There's a bubbling cry and she comes up, gasping and reaching for something - anything really - to cling to while her upturned gaze sees something. "No, get away!" Then it's gone and she sags, blinking rapidly as her eyes, almost glowing and feral looking, return to normal. "I-" She's at a loss, clearly overwhelmed. Something did happen!

  Zelda says nothing when the other woman vows to uphold her silence, but she does incline her head in gracious gesture. She'll explain everything when a better opportunity presents itself.

  She gives a cry of alarm as her guest goes under the surface; when Terra bobs back to the surface, Zelda is already cluthcing at her to try and haul her back above the surface. "It's alright." Her voice is soft in the same way one might soothe a frightened animal. That gentle tone is universal. "Peace. Peace! You are safe here. Be not afraid."

  "You saw something," Zelda breathes, trying to walk Terra -- not ungently -- over to the benches. Inadvertantly drowning would be bad. There is a light in her eye; somewhere between curiosity, and a kind of knowing confidence. "The Author of Law granted you a vision, yes...?" There's a moment of silence, and she smiles, gently; almost shyly. "They were satisfactory, I hope...? Are you alright? Is there anything I can do for you...?"

    It's a surprisingly good feeling to not cause others suspicion or alarm. The trust extended means a lot and Terra will have to do what she can to show her appreciation. Later, of course.

    The vision, revelation or whatever it was has her in such a daze that she's quite easy to drag from the water, though she's hardly still. Her breath is rapid and her heart is racing, thundering in her chest almost as easily heard as it can be felt.

    Slowly, her awareness returns and she almost sobs with relief, thankful to be in safe, more familiar surroundings. "I saw... A man. He made me... So many of them." Her thoughts are reeling. They were answers, certainly, though certainly not what she expected and apparently not comforting at all. She stares for a few beats, slowly shaking her head. Zelda means well and she certainly needs the rock to cling to lest she be swept away by the surging tide of her thoughts. "I'm... Not human?" If she had an existential crisis before... "And..." Her expression, anguished though it may be, shows something else as things start to fall into place. "That creature. From before. It tried to speak to me...?"

    Then, her expression changes to confusion. "I feel hot." Indeed, she does feel rather warm. In fact, she's steaming in the cool air. "Sorry if I messed this up. You've been nothing but kind, did all this for me already and I've made a mess." It's just water!

  The Hylian looks over her stricken guest, concern flickering across her features. Splaying the fingers of her hand, she passes it over the half-Esper as though seeking out whether the other woman is actually injured or not; there is, for a brief instant, a warm white-gold glow from her hand.

  It falls slightly as Terra comes back to herself, and Zelda lets go a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

  "Peace," the princess soothes again, brow furrowing in concern. Carefully, she sorts some of Terra's disheveled hair. "You have done nothing wrong. It is only water; it will do no damage to anything here. Perhaps you need time to rest. May I help you to your quarters? Fetch water for you, or tea?"

  I feel hot, Terra observes, and she /is/ hot; the warmth is almost startling against her fingertips. Zelda releases her somewhat reluctantly. "Water would be best," she decides briskly. "Come. Best you lie down, I think. I am a healer, too," she adds, cocking an eye toward Terra.

  There's a flicker of something darker behind her eyes, for a brief instant; a fleeting impression of something darker, like the brilliant hard blue of an autumn sky instead of the milder hue of summer, and a whisper of something divine.

  "Come," she says, crisply; with a singularity of purpose that may well galvanise the half-Esper into following. "Water would be best, I think. Come. It would be best you lie down for a time. I am a healer, too," she adds. "If anything is amiss, please, tell me."

    Soon enough, Terra is relatively still and docile again. Whatever it was gripping her wasn't pleasant, clearly, though she's mum on further details for the moment. She's still trying to make sense of it all and it wouldn't do to speak too candidly, would it? It would only worry Zelda more.

    "Yes, alright. Thank you, sorry." Beat. "Sorry, I know-" Suddenly, bed doesn't seem to be the worst idea ever.

    Odd, too, that though she's quite warm to the touch and the spring water is evaporating from her rather quickly she doesn't seem to be suffering terribly for it.

    She looks to Zelda and whether she notices that moment of increased intensity in the other woman's gaze is hard to say. She just looks tired. "Alright, water. Yes, thank you. For everything. You've been so kind and..." She swallows, leaning somewhat heavily. "There was a man. I saw... He was the one controlling me. He- He'll be looking, I think. I don't want him to find... here. You and... and Rydia. The others. I shouldn't stay."

  "Water," Zelda confirms. "You are hot to the touch, and while not feverish, it would not do to dehydrate. Come. I will help you to change, and to your bed. No, you are not going anywhere. You are staying here in Snowpeak with the rest of us."

  "There are agents searching for my head, already; I am not concerned about those hunting you. I am in equal danger whether you stay or go, and I am well aware that you have nowhere else to go." Zelda shakes her head, even as she gathers the sodden hem of her dress about her knees. "You will be safe, here. As safe as anywhere else."

  You've been so kind, Terra says, and the princess stares at the half-Esper with an expression that seems almost conflicted. She swallows, hard, and for a brief instant her resolve looks like it might crumble. But she summons a smile, however forced it looks; and she lifts her chin proudly.

  "It is my duty," she says simply. It might seem like an insincere excuse from anyone else, but the words are absolutely sincere -- she believes in them. "Her Grace was a protector of her people. So, too, are we, her daughters. And if it is protection that you need, if it is somewhere safe to stay that you need -- you will have it, here in Hyrule, if nowhere else."

  And so it shall be, as far as the last princess of Hyrule is concerned.