Chapter Five

"Get…!"

A force that she could neither see nor feel, except for a slight pressure on her throat, instantly silenced Midna's warning. Her hands flew up, trying to grapple the bindings away from her, but her fingers passed through thin air.

Zelda's right foot took a tiny step backward as she saw Midna's struggles. "Midna?" she asked, fear in her timid voice. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Midna's voice rang through the labyrinth, but was somehow not her own, nor had she spoken of her own will.

Midna was impressed to see the fear in Zelda's innocent eyes turn to understanding. She put her hands behind her back and lowered her head, giving her the look of a frightened child. "W-who's there?" Her voice was indeed quivering, but Midna could detect that it was false. The princess had something up her sleeve.

"It's all right, Zelda. Just come with us quietly, and we won't hurt you," the voice that spoke was the pure tones that Midna had mistaken for Cabrin.

Sure, Midna thought as she rolled her eyes. Zant has forever been known for his kindness to the Hylians. He wouldn't ever hurt her.

Zelda shuffled a few nervous steps backward, pressing her body against the wall.

"What are you doing, Zelda?" Midna growled beneath her breath.

"Wha—I mean, who are you?" she continued innocently. "I've never seen people quite like you."

"I bet you haven't, Princess," Cabrin's voice reassured her. "We are simple messengers. Our master wishes to see you."

"Where is this master?" she asked, keeping her voice quiet and curious.

"Away," Cabrin said, "from here."

"Well, please tell him…"

Out of the corner of her eye, Midna saw Zelda fingering something behind her back. A corner of it glinted in the torchlight, almost revealing it. Carefully, she positioned her palm to conceal the now steady glow.

"…That I have no interest…"

Now the golden shine was seeping through her tightly closed fingers. She shifted to hide it further, but her clenched fists were no longer enough. The false Cabrin let out an inhuman shriek and hissed something at the others, who were slowly retreating on their own.

"…In joining my ancestors just yet."

Midna never was sure what followed, and her memories in the years to come would only yield images of lights, about seven of them, in vibrant and varying colors. They were each shaped, though at the speed they had flown it was impossible to tell what each represented. She remembered the feel of the warm and sleek feathered wings wrap around her, the roaring wind in her ears, and the sensation of flight. She heard one of the lights whisper something, but both the formless words and their translations eluded her.

"Wait!" she heard Zelda cry. "Midna can't—too much light!"

The elegant phoenix carrying them, with wings of several shades of gold, turned its head. While its partners were encircling the Twilit Messengers, it had formed a ring around the two of them with its wings. Looking down, Midna could see the last futile resistance of the shadows. Now they were the size of small bugs with the height they had climbed.

The spirit tilted its head as if it didn't comprehend. "This is all I know, Zelda. I cannot accommodate creatures of the darkness." The voice was light, and strangely flutelike. Though the tone was pure and perfect, Midna could detect the distrust.

"Then," Zelda turned to Midna, her eyes apologetic. "Leave her here." Zelda grasped her hand and bowed her head sadly. "I am so…so sorry."

"Don't be," Midna said, hoping her voice was happy. The feathers, that must have felt so soft against Zelda's hands, were indeed burning at her like fire. "Just put me down."

The phoenix shifted Zelda from the inside of its wings to the firm grip of its talons, soon after doing the same to Midna. The claws momentarily scraped against her side and she let out a cry. Zelda turned her head and then shouted up to the bird, "She's a friend!"

"Not to me, or any of the spirits."

True to its word, the phoenix dropped Midna to the floor of the labyrinth, but did so noticeably higher than necessary, not leaving enough time for Midna to compose herself before the fall.

"What are you doing?" She heard Zelda screech.

"You may be quick to forgive, Princess, but some of us are not. The memory of immortals stretches far back."

"Too far back!" Zelda screamed. "Get your stupid heads in the present!"

You dare to insult your own gods, Midna thought. You are the worst princess I've ever met.

And in the figure in the corner turned away as footsteps approached, the symbol on a soft, delicate hand flickering with far more energy than its owner possessed.

"Tell me," a voice whispered in the distance. "Tell me of what you have done."

Midna awoke just as she identified the voice as Zant's, and the frail form in the corner as Zelda's.