Link strafes, winded, trying to find a way through my defense, the Master Sword held tightly with both hands.
I am tired, but not debilitating so. He is the incarnation of my father, but I have been granted decades to perfect my skills. I have experience. He has the Triforce. Until he is given an opportunity to truly train with someone who exists outside the cycle of the hero, he will never be a true master.
I step forward, bringing my own sword crashing down on his.
The Master Sword tumbles to the ground with a clatter. Link falls backwards, only just catching himself. He is still too much of a boy. Barely more than a teenager. The life being forced on him isn't one he deserves.
He bends down to retrieve his weapon.
I put the tip of my sword to his head. "You're taking too many blows. Stop letting yourself get hit and I'll stop knocking you down." He is too much of a boy. Far too much of a boy. Ordon should be his life. The gods should have granted him just one more year to live his life before taking it all away.
I strike again.
His deflection is glancing.
He struggles to do as I've told him. In a fight with another swordsman, he is untrained. No encounter has allowed him to practice combatting a trained fighter.
Midna watches from the shadows. Her presence is not overt, but I feel her eyes on me. …it saddens me. He knows companionship, even love, with this woman. Is it cruel that I cannot tell him? If I tell him, something will change, the cycle will correct itself. Midna will die, or leave, or break his heart.
As Link slips into a combat stance, I sheathe my sword.
I wipe away what sweat has built up above my brow. The shadow watches, the shadow Ashei is to know nothing about.
It is so very much like the relationship my parents had, a love that could not be shared without disapproval.
The love of the fairy.
The love of the twili.
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