World Tree MUSH

After the swift work of the Goron metalsmiths, Zora's Domain has been successfully thawed out. The river's headwaters flow freely once again, and cool mist fills the air, while somewhat fish-like Zora go about their business.

The region itself is primarily grey stone, cut and smoothed into organic curves and soaring shapes that seem perfectly natural surrounded by so much water. Smooth steps cut into the walls to ascend the heights; alcoves off the main walkway through the city form private chambers, and even inn rooms.

It's in one of the plainest, most nondescript rooms that Zelda has taken up in, immediately commandeering the table in the middle of the room for a spread of maps, hand-writen annotations, and markers. Today the princess is hunched over her table, a stone-cold cup of tea forgotten at her hand while she makes tiny, precise annotations in the map's margin and makes markings of some kind on the topography itself. She's hunched down until her nose nearly touches the parchment, but she's pretty paranoid, so she'll probably notice if anybody comes knocking.

    And presently, footsteps become audible. In this sort of environment, someone particularly observant might be able to recognize the subtle but distinct sound of Lex's robotic leg.

    She's also engaged in a hushed conversation with Lightshard 18, as she walks down the hallway with her prosthetic arm dematerialized and her sword hovering next to her. "I actually didn't really notice it, and they're kind of different shades of orange," she's saying, "but now that you mention it, that Originium stuff in Terra and the Twilight in Hyrule do have a similar thing going on, don't they?"

    "Just an idle remark," says Lightshard 18. "They're obviously entirely different concepts."

    "Well, yeah," says Lex. "I mean --" And then she suddenly lets out a hiss of pain, and there's a swirl of light and Elvish code as her left arm rematerializes, and she promptly grabs it firmly with her good hand.

  The princess looks up at the sound of distant footfalls and quiet conversation. The roar of the waterfalls outside is almost deafening, but the irregularity of prosthetic limbs on stone is enough for Zelda to pick out Lex's approach. It's also enough for a reasonably accurate guess as to who it is.

  "You may as well put that line of reasoning to bed. I am fairly certain that Originium and Twilight are entirely different both in concept and behaviour." Zelda puts aside the quill she had been writing with, looking up over a pair of gold wire-framed reading glasses. These she flicks off, folding the arms and setting them aside as she pushes herself to her feet.

  Today it's just a plain dress. Her bow and quiver lean against the far wall, and her scabbarded rapier is balanced in the corner with them. The room itself doesn't look particularly used, aside from maps, notes, and a few possessions. Stepping around the table, Zelda smooths down her skirts, tilting her head and studying Lex with clear blue eyes.

  "I presume I know why you are here." A hand is flicked toward a stool on the other side of the low table. "Have a seat. Water? Tea? Or wine, perhaps?" It doesn't compare to that from Castle Town, but the Zora brew quite a good dry white."

    "Just so," says Lightshard 18. "I just noticed a similarity of the orange skies."

    Lex actually looks somewhat contrite. "Kind of a silly similarity," she says, shaking her robotic arm slightly. "... freaking phantom pain ... uh ..." An expression of actual reluctance crosses her face. "But, uh, yeah, it's, it's about the curse."

    The sword turns to Zelda, back edge forward so that she isn't pointing anything sharp at her. "Lex is ... fairly embarrassed about asking for help, Miss Sheik," she says, eliciting even more embarrassment from Lex, "but she made the decision to come here when I discovered that there are traces of the curse which seem to be interfering with my own self-diagnostic systems."

    Lex laughs nervously. "Preeeeetty much." She sits down gingerly. "Uh ... I'll ... have tea, please, thank you." She hesitates. "I, uh, don't drink alcohol," she adds.

  "A coincidental similarity, mostly involving colour. That in itself is somewhat ironic, given those areas afflicted by the Twilight are generally blanched of their colour." Zelda gathers up the map, rolling it neatly in practised gesture and setting it aside, into an alcove in the wall filled with other such scrolls. "I surmised as much, after offering my services."

  The table is cleared, then, and the princess turns to fetch the kettle from its stand. Even that simple act she does with aristocratic grace; her hands are slim, delicate, but still callused from bow haft and sword hilt.

  When the sword turns slightly to face her, Zelda glances up, picking up the teacup and regarding the weapon coolly. Her gaze swings over to Lex, then, studying her for a moment. She closes her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. "I see no call for squeamishness. It is what it is."

  Very matter-of-fact, this royalty.

  "Sit." The teacup is set down and slid toward Lex, steaming. It's mild, lightly sweetened. "Drink. And then explain to me what it is you think I should be searching for. I do not like to work blind."

    Lex wilts slightly under Zelda's piercing gaze; Lightshard 18 tilts slightly in midair in an approximation of a shrug. Nevertheless, Lex does manage to accept the teacup, and she sips gently, taking a moment to put her thoughts in order as she settles down in the chair.

    "Basically, uh ..." She shrugs. "The experts in my world have said that the curse is still buried inside me somewhere, kind of thing, but they aren't sure how to get it out. And I feel like ..." She shrugs vaguely. "... instinctively, it's like there's something more 'awful' going on inside me than just the, the constantly draining myself, draining my magic, just from keeping my prosthetics going." She gestures pointedly with her prosthetic arm.

    "The Lightshard swords have been constructed by an organization of evildoers called the Dawnfall," says Lightshard 18. "I don't trust my creators, since I was created solely for the purpose of testing what it would look like if I died. -- Ah, that is, the purpose of the curse is to kill the Dawnfall's enemies, including those who attempt to wield us." There's an ever-so-slight quaver in her voice for a few syllables. "Its effects are threefold: to produce glowing wings of light, which are beneficial only to members of the Dawnfall; to drive its victims into a berserk frenzy, in order to cause as much damage as possible to everyone and everything not of the Dawnfall; and to kill the victim, either via the other two effects, or by merging them with the sword in a process called body-soul morphic mass unification, which I haven't gotten the chance to fully understand."

    "Glad you're the one saying you don't understand it," mutters Lex, trying to focus on her tea; this discussion seems hard for her.

    Lightshard 18 pauses, but doesn't say anything directly to her. "The curse is also intended to cause apocalyptic damage to the surrounding Blossom," she says, in a slightly lighter tone, "but the mechanism for that relies on a belief which is held by many elves in our world, and which is ridiculed by literally everyone else, that Atlantean elves have powers with some sort of vaguely-defined 'deep connection to the World Tree'." A pause. "I confess that, being that I was designed specifically to be wielded alongside the curse, I'm not entirely certain what freedom from this curse will actually look like. Nor do I have any clear memories from before I was reactivated in the hospital room where Lex was convalescing after our ... attack. Just a general idea of what I was created for and the specific mission for which I was activated. In that sense, I suppose, I'm as uncertain as you are."

  For all she looks sharply at things, there's relatively little emotion in her study. Zelda is objective, as much as she can be, and for the time being she seems more interested in getting the full story than heeding any embarrassment on Lex's part.

  "So, in short, your body is fighting the remnant of the curse. I see. It would explain your constant exhaustion, as your body fights both acclimation to those--" A gesture at the prosthetic limbs, "--while simultaneously fighting a battle it cannot win."

  Zelda folds her arms, considering, absently rubbing her jaw with one hand in thought. This time it's Lightshard 18 she addresses, lifting her eyes to regard the talking sword. "So the curse is a means to an end. That certainly makes sense."

  Her lips thin at the mention of apocalyptic damage, though, and she shakes her head. "I don't believe that has any bearing, in this specific case, although it is good to know in the event that anything... unfortunate... should happen while I attempt removal. That is why you've come, yes? You wish me to attempt to sever what remains of this curse?"

  "Let me make one thing clear: I cannot help you if you withdraw. I do not care for your pride, or your sensitivities; I care only to fulfill my purpose, and that is the removal of this curse. The business of curses is more than a mere function of my station; it is one of the purposes to which I was born, and all those who have come before me. It is a spiritual calling; a task set me by my goddesses themselves. I will not stand in judgement of you. Nor do I care particularly deeply about the circumstances of your world."

  "All I need to know is that you have come in readiness. I cannot promise that it will be swift, nor can I promise it will be long: I will know relatively little until I have had the opportunity to look deeply and see what there is to see." Zelda straightens, folding her hands before her. "That being said... are you ready? I will of course tell you when I am ready to actually begin working on the curse... but first I must look, and study."

    Lex listens as Zelda speaks. She listens intently, with varying degrees of worry obvious on her features. "Yep, it's why we're here," she says. "I sort of ... understood ... well, I mean, you did mention you're an expert at curses, kind of thing, and like, now that you mention the goddesses, I'm even more confident than I was already."

    Lightshard 18 tilts forward in midair. "And I know even less about you, Miss Sheik, beyond what you've said in my presence," she says -- she evidently hasn't been told about Zelda's true identity -- "but I know very little about the world and worlds in general, and I feel comfortable deferring to Lex's confidence in you. As well as her readiness for this task."

    And then the question. Is she ready? Lex hesitates. She has several different kinds of nervousness going on at any given moment, and as Lightshard 18 said, asking for help is difficult for her. But then she looks up at her sword, afflicted just as badly by the curse in her own way, and then turns back to Zelda and says, "I'm ready. Is there anything we need to do first, and stuff?"

  "I do not doubt there are others who can remove curses within Hyrule's bounds, but you will not have an easy time of finding them. If, indeed, they still live. Many were lost in the coup, but lives were not the only price paid. A great deal of knowledge was lost, too." Zelda sighs. "Still. There is little sense in crying over spilt milk. What's done is done, for good or for ill."

  Those blue eyes settle on Lex again, lips quirking faintly at the observation. She shakes her head as she turns to retrieve a few candles, setting them on the table. Lighting one with flint and tinder, she uses that to light the others, slowly moving from one to the next, lit from beneath by soft, flickering light.

  "That is entirely by design. I do not believe you have been explained in full what has happened here, yes?" Zelda glances momentarily over her shoulder to Lex. "You have been active here enough for me to believe I can trust in your actions. But you, I fear, are a mystery." This last is given in Lightshard 18's general direction. "Until I know more about you, I'm afraid there is very little I can reveal beyond this, to set your minds at ease: There are very few others you could have chosen to perform this work that are better qualified than I am."

  Zelda pauses to eye the two, thoughtful. "You will take my meaning, I think, once we begin."

  Candles lit, the princess seats herself, folding her hands over the table as she waits. She sits so still she could be carved of stone, patient as still water.

  "No, other than to relax. Take several deep breaths. I can still look into the curse, but it is much easier with a willing mind. One that does not resist. This may feel somewhat odd, at first. You are nervous, I know. Try to relax... I will try the best I can to avoid any undue pain."

  She waits, apparently pretty serious about taking a few deep breaths.

    "Understandable," says Lightshard 18. "I hope that eventually I will prove myself just as worthy as Lex, but in the meantime, I don't exactly have the most trustworthy origins."

    Lex nods, and closes her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Then she takes a few more sips of tea, and sets it down. After a moment of this, she dematerializes her prosthetic limbs, and grasps Lightshard 18 by the handle, setting the sword with the tip against the floor, leaning against the table. The sword, too, would seem to be relaxing.

        ...

    ... Very quickly, the examination would find a great deal of leftover curse-residue -- most of them inside the sword, but there are quite a few scattered remnants inside Lex's body as well. Their removal would be absolutely trivial; it wouldn't even take a great deal of time.

    But upon a deeper examination, things start to get weird.

    The first bit of weirdness is that the sword has a soul. Or perhaps a spirit -- the part of the sword which does the talking, either way. It's clearly an artificial thing; the difference is between a living flesh-and-blood human, and a metal statue animated by magic.

    The second bit of weirdness is the fact that the sword's soul is fused with Lex's; they overlap significantly, in a way that renders them more-or-less inextricable. Logically, to the extent that "locations" in the soul correspond to a part of the body to any meaningful degree, it seems that the point of overlap is where Lex's left arm and leg would have been.

    The third bit of weirdness is that the overlap itself is made out of the curse.

    It is precisely the same "substance" as the residue, but whole rather than stray fragments, like a boulder which grains of sand were chipped from. It's sitting there, in a dormant state, waiting for the right stimulus to become active -- and it's effectively hiding behind a human shield: the merger was in fact three-way, and took place Lex, the sword, and the curse; removing it would be like trying to separate conjoined twins who share vital organs.

    It's not a matter of whether the curse can be dispelled; it would be time consuming, perhaps, but not difficult. The question is how quickly Lex and Lightshard 18 would die if it were removed.

  "You understand, I'm certain." Zelda eyes Lightshard 18 coolly. "I am not in a position to be taking chances, and so until I know more, I must unfortunately afford you little trust in my plans. The consequences of my actions affect more than just myself."

  The princess folds her hands on the table before her, summer-blue eyes slipping out of focus. Her head bows, eyes flickering closed. The flickering light of the candles frames her face. And if Lex can sense anything supernatural at all, uh, Zelda just suddenly started radiating a near-oppressive level of divinity. She just did something.

  Zelda's eyes fall closed as she reaches out through her senses, eyes flickering beneath closed lids as she works. Her metaphysical presence is like staring at the sun, absurdly out of proportion to this slip of a girl holding exhaustion at bay with willpower and lots of tea.

  There is a presence there, at once like and unalike to Zelda.

  Try to relax.

  The voice is both similar and dissimilar to Zelda's, commanding as a thunderclap without quite overwhelming the senses. There is a depth, though; the age and the wisdom of a being that has seen centuries, not decades.

  Hylia.

  Zelda's presence is there, too, a counterpoint of cool impatience and a sense of wanting to get started.

  We need to get started. It's trying to spread.

  There is a shared sense of rage from both of them, the quiet cold rage of a glacier, as both Zelda and the essence of Hylia herself behold the spreading rot. They perceive the curse.

  In the room, Zelda's fingers twitch reflexively against her folded hand, tendons standing out.

  Lex Brando. It's Zelda again, her cool tone a bizarre counterpoint to the sensation of cold, wintry rage rolling off of her. Here in this curse the goddess and her descendant have met the very thing they were created to destroy. I am going to burn this curse from your body. This may be painful, but please try not to resist. Author of Law light my way. The last seems to be some kind of prayer, given in a tone of reverence; a kind of mental whisper.

  They are joined by the curse. This may be more complicated than I had foreseen.

  Then we treat them as one. It does not change that we must cleanse the curse.

  There. Slowly, now.

  It's like being burned, but without flame. Both Hylia and Zelda touch the curse at the same time, but there's still a distinct sensation of two very different entities. They work methodically but quickly, with a cold and logical precision. Zelda is fastidious and thorough, and she is careful not to let even a speck get away from her.

  It may hurt, if the curse is the kind that clings to the life force of its host; Zelda is not gentle in her efforts to remove it, but efficient in her swiftness. Such uncleanliness must not be suffered to live.

  They also work methodically around the parts that specifically join Lex and Lightshard 18. Those portions they leave carefully intact, but anything that has branched out from those points, anything that seeks more of a strengthened hold, is systematically rooted out and eradicated; seared by divinity.

  I have worked around those places where the curse binds you to Lightshard 18. Zelda's "voice" is a little ragged around the edges. This was cunningly done. I must commend whoever's work this is, as foul as the wretched thing is.

    Lex opens her eyes when she hears that voice, and the sword twitches in her hand. But she quickly closes her eyes again, and both relax again. Now is clearly the worst possible time to get worked up. Um ... right, Lex tries to reply.

    And ... it is a burning sensation. Lex hisses through clenched teeth a few times in the process, and the sword twitches twice more, but they both manages to keep themselves still. The curse, itself, was quite the burn in and of itself, and Lex's pain threshold isn't too shabby, all things considered.

    When it's over, Lex takes another few deep breaths before opening her eyes. "Okay, wow," she says. She smiles, rematerializes her prosthetics, and stretches. "That ... I'm already definitely feeling better. Thank you!"

    Lightshard 18 begins hovering once again. "Yes, thank you very much," she says, a measure of enthusiasm in her voice. "It was like being full of cobwebs --" She suddenly stops. "-- Oh, that's interesting! My internal storage ... is much bigger than I thought it was. Possibly even bigger than the Dawnfall thought it was -- it seems that I was created using technology which was salvaged directly from the Atlantean ruins. I'm going to have to spend some time indexing all this ... oh."

    "What?" says Lex.

    "... Oh dear," says Lightshard 18. "The curse is still present at the juncture of our souls ...?"

    There's slight hope in Lightshard 18's voice, but from the immediate reaction on Lex's face, they were clearly afraid that this might happen.

  The princess doesn't answer right away. She looks pale, expression drawn, and her gaze is fixed firmly in the distance. It takes her a second or two to snap out of it, letting out a breath she might not have noticed she was holding, the line of her shoulders relaxing incrementally.

  "What was that? Oh. Yes." Her voice cracks, and it's thin; reedy; one hand rises to hide the thin trickle of blood from her nose. "There is still a certain degree of curse, but this should bring it back down to much more manageable levels." Zelda pauses, tilting her head up, frowning around the blood. "Whoever created this knew their business, make no mistake. That was a bitch," she pronounces, blandly.

  Zelda eyes them, although the angle of her head makes it look a little more comically than it may be intended. "Be not afraid. Your body should be able to fend off what's left, and it should have no chance of finding a foothold; I have, I think, burned away its ability to spread. I cannot be certain, though, nor do I offer any guarantees. My door is always open, if you'd like me to check up on it after a time. Just to be certain nothing has changed. At that time, I might try to see if I've a means to remove the binding curse without killing both of you... but I suspect that is beyond my abilities. I am sorry."

    Lex looks surprised and concerned at Zelda's state; however, she knows there isn't anything she can do about it, and it's clearly something Zelda is used to.

    Lightshard 18 tilts forward slightly, once again approximating a nod. "I am suddenly comfortable saying in your presence that 'whoever created this' was also a bitch," she says. "As is Vanguard, the Dawnfall agent who placed me in Lex's hands."

    But the two go silent as Zelda explains things. They relax at first; mostly, it's a clear case of mixed relief. But when Zelda reaches her conclusion, both of them immediately slump. "Well ... phooey," Lex says flatly.

    "Save the phooeys for polite company," Lightshard 18 says glumly. "Just say 'shit' and mean it."

    Lex opens her mouth, closes it, and then just sighs softly. "I mean." She looks up at Zelda. "Really, though, seriously, thank you for what you've done," she says in a quiet voice which is ... even more scratchy and androgynous than her usual fare. "I'm ... I dunno if I'll sleep more soundly, but, uh ..." She shakes her head. "Y-you know what I mean. Like, like I said, I'm already feeling physically better."

    "Seconded," says Lightshard 18. "I like to think things have been improving, but it's felt a lot like ... what was the saying? 'One step forward, two steps back'? I suppose losing limbs will wait just a goddamn minute!" Suddenly, her cool tone is gone, replaced by a mixture of shock, incredulous disbelief, and a feeling of unreality. "Silaranya!?"

  "Pay it no mind." Zelda's voice is a little muffled for the way she tilts her head back and pinches her nose, one eye squinted shut. "A temporary price to pay; such is the cost of power. It is... unpleasant, but not entirely unexpected."

  In other words, she's definitely used to it.

  "I have most likely heard worse from the soldiers I once trained with, in any case," the young woman comments archly, to Lex's flat euphemism. "Speak freely. I am not made of glass." To Lex's thanks, she tilts her head, the gesture vaguely bird-like, blinking and eyeing her almost curiously. "The banishment of curses is a sacred duty, and I do it gladly. It is an act of faith... but you are welcome." Zelda dips her head, graciousy.

  Oh, so maybe she's part of the priestess' caste, or something, and not an aristocrat? She straightens a sleeve; her fingers are callused, in the manner of one who handles swords. Rich peasantry or poor aristocracy? "Yes. Your body is no longer fighting so hard to maintain itself under constant onslaught. There is less now to war against, and so it is not so great a drain on your resources, I would imagine."

  Lightshard 18 has some kind of nonsensical outburst.

  Zelda stares blandly, and then, gradually, one brow arches sharply. Her expression says it all: Explain?

    Lex blinks at Lightshard 18 in surprise. "Wait, do you mean ... the Elvish for ..." She looks back at Zelda, and chortles. "I 'unno, I'm just. I don't like to cuss in general, I guess," she says. "It's a me thing, not ... not because I'm around you, or whatever." She gestures to Lightshard 18. "She's the foul-mouthed one between the two of us." She nods. "But, uh, yeah. It's just ... knowing I'm stuck with it will be ... hard to deal with, kind of thing."

    Lightshard 18, however, is too distracted to try to suss out the identity of the mysterious woman called Sheik. "It's the name of ... well, I found it while I was indexing my internal storage. Ah, looking around inside myself," she clarifies. "And I am completely certain now that the Dawnfall either didn't know about this, or thought that the curse would erase it, because after my predecessor number 17 was recovered by the Dawnfall's enemies, there is no way they would have deployed me without deleting this thing if they'd known about it --"

    "What did you find?" says Lex, slightly impatiently.

    "Well!" says Lightshard 18. "There are legends in our world, Miss Sheik, of wandering adventurers, armed with weapons carrying a spell which grants them abilities which ... well, they're quite similar to Miss Tachibana's transformation, actually. Not usually elemental, but these adventurers are known by the title 'Silaranya', typically translated from the atlantal language as 'Shinewander.'" Lex is nodding along, as if she knows all this already. "Most people believe they are mere legends, or that they're extinct as of the Atlantean Catastrophe, but ... if I'm interpreting the abstract correctly ..."

    Lex immediately has the astonished expression of someone who was just informed that all those legends about the ancient blade of evil's bane known as the Master Sword are actually real. "Did you just find a document or whatever inside yourself that ... that literally proves that the Shinewanders were real?"

    "No," says Lightshard 18. "I believe I've just found a spell inside myself that proves their existence."

  The Hylian's gaze flits between Lex and Lightshard 18, neutral as stone, but it's clear that she's deep in thought as she considers both halves of the curse. "I wouldn't discount the possibility of a cure, although I wouldn't consider it timely, either. This is the kind of thing... yes, I may be able to do so safely."

  "However, it would require power on a scale I am not accustomed to wielding. I would need time to prepare, if that is truly what you wish to do." She looks Lex over, considering. "I cannot fully recommend it; I cannot promise that it will be a simple procedure. It will not be." She shakes her head. "I have never actually attempted reparations on such a scale before."

  She listens to Lightshard 18's explanation with a slow, owlish blink and a flat, owlish stare. She stays that way for a very long time.

  "...I'm sorry, I've had *very* little sleep over the past months. May I have that again, in layman's terms?"

    Lex frowns at Zelda's. "Well, like, you've already got a lot of stuff on your plate," she says. "I don't think I'd be willing to ask that kind of committment of time and effort from you until we've already squashed Zant and gotten rid of the Twilight and Hyrule's safe again."

    "Agreed," says Lightshard 18. "For the time being, you've already helped us more than enough. As for the other ..."

    "Yeah, uh ..." Lex hesitates. "... 18 is saying that the bits of her that were taken from Atlantean ruins seemed to have the actual spell for becoming the kind of hero called a Shinewander -- wait wait wait!" The implications of this fact are suddenly hitting her. "Does that mean ... are you saying that I could be a Shinewander?"

    "That is exactly what I am saying," says Lightshard 18, doing the tilt-nod again.

  Zelda closes her eyes, flicking a hand in dismissive gesture. The gesture is weary but nonchalant. What most would hesitate at, she seems to have no reserve over. "The battle to liberate Hyrule has thus far not proven itself a swift one, and I do not expect that to change. It became a battle of attrition long ago."

  "And that is, frankly, assuming that I am not slain in the meantime. That would be a disaster for Hyrule, since nobody else appears to be doing anything to unite allies and incite resistance against Zant."

  She stares blankly at both Lex and Lightshard 18 for a long moment. There are indeed deep shadows beneath almond-shaped eyes.

  "And please explain to me, again, the significance of the term 'Shinewander?'"

    Lex rubs her eyes. "Well, I mean, my snap judgment is that we should put that into the 'maybe' column for now, if it's not gonna be a problem in general," she says uncertainly. "On general principles. Sleep on it, and stuff. And Shinewanders are transforming heroes like Yumi Tachibana. Every kid knows about them, I've sometimes wished I could meet one, I never thought I'd ..." She shakes her head and sighs. "Wow, I think both of us are really in need of a rest after this, and all that."

    "I could not agree more," says Lightshard 18. "You look worse for wear at the moment than Lex does, Miss Sheik."

  "Of course. If I have the means, I can certainly make the effort, whenever you are ready." Zelda tilts her head in concession. "As I said, I would not have been ready to do it in the immediate sense, anyway. That will demand rigid preparations on my part, and those will take time."

  With the matter of Shinewanders clarified, Zelda tilts her head, this time as she considers. She reaches up to rub at her jaw, frowning; to their concern, though, she only flicks a hand in casual dismissal. "Pay it no heed. Such things always demand a toll on my body, but I know my limits. We will be staying here in Zora's Domain for a time, so we will all have the opportunity to rest. I can assure you that the Zora guardsmen are eminently capable; we will be safe, here."

  She reahces up to rub at her eyes, in turn, the gesture very un-aristocratic. "And to be honest, there are comparatively few days I do not look like this anyway. I've grown quite accustomed to working on a smaller ration of sleep, and under far worse circumstances than this. We are, at least for the moment, not under siege, thank the goddesses."

  The Hylian comes dangerously close to a yawn, before she finally does, holding the back of a half-curled fist in front of her mouth. "...Good heavens. I had best give you a bit of space and time to process all of this, yes? Will there be anything else, then, that I can do for you...?" Because if not, her tone seems to say, she's going to go be horizontal for about twelve hours straight.

    Lex nods to Lightshard 18. "She is pretty tired like this a lot, from what I've seen," she says. She hesitates. "But yeah, I think that's all for now." She stands up, gestures for Lightshard 18 to move to her back, and smiles. "Once again, thanks, Sheik. For all of it, I mean." She shrugs. "I know it's kinda part of your job description and stuff, but I mean. It makes a difference for us." She gives an awkward curtsy with the bottom of her shirt.

    "I can do nothing but echo Lex's words," says Lightshard 18. "Do take care of yourself, Miss Sheik. We'll let you rest."

    Once again, the hallway has the sound of Lex's prosthetic leg. "Also, 18," says Lex, "I'm gonna want you to look over that Shinewander spell before I start using it --" She doesn't sound like there's any doubt she'll start using it. "-- and I mean be really sure it's what it says it is."

    "You aren't going to want to jump straight into using it?" says Lightshard 18, as calm as can be. "But I can see the point ..." Their voices trail off.

  "It is literally my job description." Zelda's tone is one of tolerant amusement. "The Goddess Hylia cannot abide corruption, and neither can those who serve Her. Cleansing corruption is an act of faith, you could say, so it isn't as though it was a waste of my time. I am honoured to help."

  "I know my limits," she reasserts to Lightshard 18, with a nod. By the look of her, her limits are basically tripping into bed once the dynamic duo have left, and sleeping for about a week. "Truly. I will be fine. Goddesses watch over you both," she calls, softly, after them.

  She waits. Footfalls recede. Voices fade.

  And then Zelda turns neatly on her heel, shuffles toward the one-room suite's bed, and collapses onto it. She's out like a light in a matter of seconds, secure in the knowledge that there are no less than four royal Zora guardsmen posted outside her door. (Whoever she is, she must be really important.)