Turn of the Serpent

It's red. The favored beverage of his grace. He conquered Hyrule and gained all power. The peoples are disappearing at an increasing rate; and he is to blame. The new dictator of Hyrule, the Twilit Butterfly, has the control to change time, to twist law, and to bend minds. All reaches of his sorcery has held the very corners of Hyrule, and as such, he is the most powerful conqueror of Hyrule's history.

Cian, loyal servant to the new lord, poured the blood red drink gently and carefully into the crystalline glass. The drink was kept in a lustrous pitcher of admirable craftsmanship, carved and painted to tell the story the Twilit Butterfly's great attempts. It was kept in a steep barrel filled with frost and snow from Snowpeak, and remained cold as long as the witchcraft withstood the perishing nation. After the last drop fell into the glass, the pitcher emptied.

"After I deliver this to him, I will refill it," Cian reminded himself, "it would be most unsatisfactory if I should fall out of favor." With careful hands, the thin, pale fingers pressed delicately on the crystal rim, he raised the drink slowly and transferred it to a large, elliptical silver tray while hardly stirring the liquid. Then, just as patiently and conscious of mistake, Cian wrapped his palms around the handles at either sides of the platter, and gracefully lifted it from the black iron table and carried it from the kitchen.

Outside the door, the large dining hall glimmered with the enchanting lights of the golden chandelier hanging from the high stone roof. There were seven long tables. One, with the most ornate chairs, faced forward toward the exit and sideways from the kitchen. In the middle of this table was a golden high-backed chair. Gray and black cloth decorated the throne's back, and therefore represented the lord. The other six tables, three to one side of the hall, three to the other, were plain. They were affixed with wooden benches and unfinished wood. Hundreds of beasts and lowly servants waited at the tables. There was still time before the lord wound present the time to feast.

Cian strode between the sets of three, where the aisle was widest. No waiting victim of hunger turned to face him. They only stared unnaturally ahead, as if brainwashed. "Pathetic, mindless creatures," Cian deemed, "they were unworthy his Majesty's favor, like I. However, they are useful. They're the disgusting souls to have their hands defiled, not me. They are lucky to still be alive after the last news." He recalled the ugly reaction of the lord when he had collected that Link was indeed still alive and safe in hiding. He was protected by impenetrable magic and guarded against the misery. The lord was angered beyond rage and had reacted by immediately disposing the messengers.

The doors to the main floor opened before Cian without reinforcement. The very walls were seeping with magic. In the evenings, the candles lit all at once, but in a subtle, casual way. The glass of the windows shifted colors, showing different pictures almost every minute. Strong barriers prevented incoming visitors from approaching the castle beyond the gates. So powerful was the magic, that those of weak bodies or pure hearts could not enter without suffocation from high concentration of dark power. This was how power the Twilit Butterfly was.

Up the Grand Staircase, under the stone arches, and spiraling up the tower stairs. The Tower climbed to the sky at nearly three hundred meters. It clawed at the constant swirling clouds and into the dark night skies. In these recent days, such a splendid sight was tainted by the glowing orange moon that never left the heights of the stars unless the lord slept. It forever waited to shift until those times. However, ever since news of Link,, the King had remained awake. "He will need sleep soon," thought Cian, "he may be powerful, but he is still human in the heart and mind; he will die if he does rest and rejuvenate."

Finally, upon approaching the door to the lord's room, Cian waited for the door to open. After a few moments, the door creaked loud and hit the wall with a bang of wood on stone and a clatter of hanging door handles rattling. At the end of the room, at the large window, stood his grace himself, staring out the shattered window. Cian balanced the tray in his arms and bowed respectively. The lord turned his gaze to his servant, and inclined his head to mean that Cian can approach. Cian quietly stepped to the lord and offered the drink.

"Here, sir, is the beverage you wish to drink at the celebration?" He held the tray forward. The lord took the glass, wrapping his cold, white fingers around the crystal. "This is the most recent addition to your collection of exotic finds, master Butterfly."

"Are the scum prepared for their last meal before they begin the search?" the Lord sipped his drink silently and set it back on the tray. "Is this all there is?"

"To be honest, the cook had his way with it. This is what was left of the first batch," Cian replied.

"Very well, I await when you return to the table for this final supper," the lord spoke with divine articulation and a carefully rehearsed voice so that his speech was flawless. Cian bowed again and asked, "What will you do until he is found?"

The lord continued to stare into the cracks and made no reply or even seemed to realize that he had a question. He turned his head slightly to Cian, so that part of his face was visible under the coned hood to the lower ranked. He smiled and merely said, "I shall wait. There is no reason for I to do anything."

Cian nodded and said, "I'll bring this down to the dining table. Will you follow me, your humble but most loyal adviser?"

The Butterfly smiled again, "I shall." He turned gracefully, his long black cloak billowing open. His hood fell from his head and his long white hair, tied in a ponytail, whirled to settle on his shoulder. His bright eyes glowed under the shining bangs and the long Hylian ears poked out the sides of his head. He wore a black tunic over a gray turtle-necked shirt. Over the black tights that hugged his legs were knee high black dragon hide boots. He wore black fingerless gloves and various rings of many different gems, from diamond to jet, from ruby to amethyst and more. His smile widened, bearing his pearly white teeth and the two horrid fangs that grew from his canines. "We shall remember the night that I slayed Hyrule and its precious Hylians! I now stand as the last." Cian shook; the lord, named Braen-Bran of Cadagon, had never once sounded so gleeful of his work.

The lord and servant plodded one step after another and returned to the dining hall. It was still full and quiet as it had been when Cian walked out. However, a new guest had arrived. A boy, of fifteen, waited in a chair next to the high backed throne at the head table. Cadagon scowled at the boy. He had cropped white hair, a coned black hat, black tunic and white tights. A black sailor collar was lengthened to about his waist length and his black boots were only up to just under his knee caps. His eyes were red, but duller and darker compared to Cadagon's.

"I was in very high spirit until I saw him. That boy is a disgrace, and a dent in my honor. He should be destroyed." Cadagon strode forward with hefty steps and took his seat by the boy. The boy, named Dark Link, was the creation of Cadagon and the blood of the past heroes. He collected enough to forge their image into a human being powerful as he. However, he failed as a predecessor to Cadagon, for he was useless. He wouldn't fight, wouldn't talk, and had never once betrayed his blood of the heroes. Dark Link was locked away and secured in the dungeon. To all but Cadagon and Cian, he was passed as the lord's mentally challenged and insane son. He was brought up to eat food , but still immobilized by chains and guards behind his chair.

Dark Link turned his eyes to the king and frowned. The pain still remained. It had dwelt within his mind and heart since his birth. It was the pain of the heroes, the past Links, clawing and scratching his insides for escape. For revenge and to take back their most beloved country. Cian had approached the table and set the king's beverage next his gold plate. Dark Link gazed into the liquid for a few seconds, and then his eyes widened and irises narrowed. The heroes within him screamed and cried. Dark Link clutched part of his chest where his heart beat faster an faster. His air canal became constricted and harder to breath through. Small gasps of pain escaped his lips as Cadagon watched. He rolled his eyes and said to Cian, "When Link is found, we will send this thing to him. He will be killed and I will have the last Hylian in my control." Cian nodded and fetched the pitcher for the king's beverage.

Dark Link shook his head. That drink was forbidden. It was unholy and vile, and no person was to set his lips on it. Cadagon picked it up and said to the boy, "You see this, creature? This is the new age of Hyrule where no Hylian but ourselves and that Link are left. Of course, this sort of drink is your poison, but it's my elixir. It is the line between you and I. I am pure evil and wickedness, but you are love and protection. It is only so sad that you were unable to save your beautiful people." He smiled and began to gulp the drink. Hot and scarring blood ran through Dark Link's body and pained him more. The boy's head fell to the table and his eyes were wide with the searing anger of the heroes within him. He screamed and shouted, "No! Please don't kill me; I am only your humble carrier! Please spare me so that I can find him for you!" His cries continued as Cian left the kitchen.

Cian stopped at the front threshold. He blinked and his mouth twitched. "Who would create such a creature?" he whispered. "He is constant hurt and only wishes to be away from this evil. I don't understand why the king didn't kill him before this." He sighed and walked through the door. The large moon was reflected in the red pond that placidly shimmered in the dark night. Cian bent over it and scooped the liquid using the pitcher until it was full. Then he looked up from the pitcher, and to a strange object in the pond. It was spider like, and attached to something long and fleshy. Cian set the pitcher a foot from the pond's edge and picked up the object. He pulled it from the depths and unveiled a person. A Hylian by the look of the ears. "He must be new," Cian said. Then Hylian stirred and shifted his head only a little to Cian. He breathed and whispered, "Save me..." Cian sighed and dropped the Hylian back in the water. The Hylian screamed and rose to the surface of the pond.

He gasped and sputtered, "What is this? Is this some crude joke that you and that dirty lord made?"

"What do you think it is?" Cian drawled. The Hylian held out his hand.

"You tell me," he growled.

Cian rolled his eyes and replied, "This is blood. The blood of the Hylians that fell today. Including yourself." With that, he shoved his boot into the Hylian's face and kicked him back in the pond, the blood. The Hylian shrieked into the night and tried to resurface, but he found himself unable to. Cian picked up the pitcher and brought it back to the castle. He walked between the tables and set the pitcher at the king's plate. Dark Link lay breathing, the whites of his eyes open and wide. Cian took the seat on Cadagon's other side and sat upright. The king lifted his glass to the beasts that gorged their food. He snickered and finished his drink. Cian began to eat. "That boy is truly worthless. He can not even calm his heart to the smell of Hylian blood.

Dark Link still rested motionless, his head still on the table. The tears of the hundreds that had perished that day crept from the corners of his eyes and onto the rose finish.

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