January 24, 2012
For the world I loved so, that my soul is bound
Unknowing in the present what knowing in the past I possessed
If only I knew where it could be found
Deeply looking the light resonates a sound
Illuminating the darkness all around
I take a deep breath and look around
Another world infinitely more round
The vibrations calm and emit no sound
Peace in which beauty has no bound
A glimpse of immortality I have found
But of mortality I am forever possessed
Familiar like something I once possessed
Like an island with an unending tempest around
If only I knew what a curse that blessing was I found
Destroy me already I can’t go another round
But of infinite chaos I am bound
The silence is a welcoming sound
To forever hear mortality’s sound
Where is the solution I once possessed?
To free myself from this curse that I am bound
For ages I’ve been looking all around
Now even the tomb I am in is weathered and round,
That knowledge has died now no answers may be found
Not lost, simply destroyed never to be found
That wailing is my soul’s woeful sound
Condemned to endure another round
Calling out to the spirit I once possessed
In that moment I look desperately around
Instants pass and again I’m flesh bound
Back again in death’s cold bound
Supernatural means exhausted no joy can be found
The light has died out, there is only darkness around
Condemned to that all to familiar sound
Praying vigorously to be severed from this flesh possessed
And leave this world that is round
Then at last I’d be free to travel infinity, without death’s bound
I’d never come back to this planet that is round because of the answers I found
And hear Nirvana’s sound that is peace that cannot be possessed
It turns out my actions people don’t like.
I don’t know why, because beer makes things clear.
Only it makes it hard to ride a bike.
Because everything gets really blurry.
I solve that problem by taking a hike.
So please people, you don’t have to worry.
I’m a peaceful person I mean no harm.
Like a calm wind during a snow flurry.
Lady I’m only drunk don’t touch that alarm!
I’m only trying to get my money.
Because I need surgery on my arm!
Please don’t call the cops this isn’t funny!
I am not trying to rob you okay.
I am like as peaceful as a bunny.
So lady, can you stop being so gay?
You’re crazy lady, if I do so say!
Zelda was clinging to the wall at the back of the stands. All thoughts of Sheik were gone. Ganon had returned to terrorize her, and she had been too afraid to use her newfound power. The monstrous creature from her nightmares had returned, to destroy half the arena. He had burned away the walls of the arena, mindlessly destroying whatever he came in contact with. But he was gone again... like a bad dream. She tried to come to grips with what had happened. She knew who she was again... for once, she had no need to retreat inside her mind.
Something puzzled her though. The crowd was still hushed, even though Ganon had been destroyed. She looked down to see what had their attention. Magus was lying down, bleeding in the center of the arena, while Link lay motionless. Pangs of guilt washed over Zelda. She ran down the steps of the stadium and leaped into the arena. The motion was easier than she had expected. She was still dressed up as Sheik.
She ran over to Magus first. The magician's accomplishment had been incredible... she had only believed Link to be capable of fighting Ganon. Clearly, outside her world, there were other powerful forces as well. She kneeled down next to the battered wizard and rested one hand on his chest, feeling the wounds.
Magus turned his head and spoke to her in a raspy voice. "You should attend to your boyfriend first. Your efforts would be better spent there."
"Hush..." Zelda whispered.
Healing light poured out of her hands, filling Magus's body. She held back the flow of blood from his chest and tried to seal the wounds... but the damage was simply too great. The dark energies both fighters had wielded didn't make it any easier either. Magus groaned as Zelda continued her efforts to repair his battered body. Her own power was not enough, even with the Triforce of Wisdom. Reluctantly, Zelda began drawing on another power that rested within her... that of the Chaos Emerald.
She began to feel a little lightheaded as the power rushed through her. The healing energy she was exerting began flooding out of her hands. The three holes in Magus's chest gradually sealed themselves up, and the purifying energy raced through his veins. Zelda had to make an effort to control herself as she began letting up on her power. Magus was still exhausted and lying flat on his back, but his visible wounds were healed. There was nothing more she could do for him.
Zelda ran over to Link while she still had her wits about her and let her energies pour over Link. His bruises began to vanish, and he stood up opening his eyes wide. But he wasn't even looking at her, his gaze was in the direction of Magus.
Zelda turned, and beyond the blue haired wizard, saw three triangles spinning in the air. "The Triforce of Power..." she whispered.
Link immediately stood up straight and rushed forward. The Triforce flew up into the air, centered between Link, Zelda, and Magus.
The Triforce faced towards Link. Though no words were spoken... the two seemed to be communicating somehow.
What do you believe about power?
Power belongs to those with the courage and confidence to use it. It is the right of the strong to protect and oversee the weak. The powerful let nothing stand in their way.
Zelda was puzzled, the Triforce was just hovering in the air, it seemed to be evaluating Link.
Your words belie your intentions. Your spirit is slipping into shadow. Having more power cannot save you from that fate. You must look to yourself, champion of courage.
The Triforce turned to face her. Zelda felt her spirit tug, reaching out for the magical force. It was if the Triforce spoke to her very soul.
What do you believe about power?
Power is necessary for protection. Without power, I am helpless. With power, I have control. Power is the right of those with the wisdom to use it properly.
Zelda felt a pang of loss as the Triforce began to turn away.
You are lost in the power you possess already. Your motives are clouded. You must regain yourself before you can hope to wield power properly. Know thyself, champion of wisdom.
The Triforce spun slowly, and faced Magus. The magician was still motionless, lying on the ground without a word. Zelda hoped desperately that he was still alive.
What do you believe about power?
Power corrupts. Power destroys. The desire for power ruined my kingdom and destroyed my life. The weak strive to be weaker and yield control of their lives to someone else, while the strong strive only to increase their strength. The cycle has destroyed as many empires as it has individuals. Power as an end in itself is pointless. Power distorts life and serves its own ends. I wish I had never heard of power.
Zelda watched in amazement as the Triforce began to descend upon Magus.
Your embittered spirit speaks more truth than you may know, champion of self. You defeated the past bearer of this artifact. You have shown yourself able to wield and to oppose power. You have been judged worthy. May you wield your power with courage and wisdom.
The Triforce of Power landed on Magus's chest and entered his body. Life and energy seemed to flow into Magus. Magus leaned forward, looking around dazed. Picking up his scythe, Magus raised himself up from the ground.
He looked around confused. His wounds were healed. He saw Zelda staring at him, and nodded with understanding.
Zelda said nothing, but merely gaped at him. Did he even understand what had just happened to him? Did anyone, aside from her and Link?
The crowd erupted in applause. Link's applause had been loud, invasive to a degree... this was deafening. A chant of "Magus... Magus.... MAGUS!" rose from the stands.
Magus looked around, and nodded at the crowd. He slowly stalked out of the arena, his cape flowing silently behind him. The crowd roared and clapped with enthusiasm bordering on hero worship. They had gone from excitement, to abject terror-fearing for their lives. Their concern for their own lives had turned into a worry for Magus's, and it ended with triumph. Magus had beaten the king of evil. Even the other contestants were clapping enthusiastically.
Link glared up at the stands, seemingly resentful of the attention Magus was receiving. For some reason, Zelda didn't feel comfortable talking to him right then about what she had seen. Slipping into the persona of Sheik, she stealthily glided out of the arena, to where she could be alone again.
But Link's reverie was interrupted as Ganondorf's laugh began to fill the arena. The dark wind started to accelerate, and turn into a swirling tornado.
The arena had suddenly gone pitch black. The moon no longer shone... the only light that was visible shown from Ganondorf's palm. The Triforce... Link realized. He gasped, forgetting his concern about the outcome of the match entirely. No...!
Ganondorf began to laugh manically... his voice growing deeper and deeper. Light began to shine out from every pore of his skin. He screamed, and the light flowing from him reached its apex. The burst temporarily blinded the entire crowd. When they looked again, Ganondorf was gone. Ganon stood in his place. He was the lord of darkness again.
The giant pig towered ten feet above Magus's head. The prince of Zeal stood calmly, analyzing the new development. Ganon held an enormous pitchfork in his right hand, and a hammer in his left. He raised his enormous tusks in the air and roared at the crowd. A blast of fire flew out of his pitchfork, crashing into the stadium wall. The audience screamed, and backed away as the concrete began to melt from the supernatural force. Ganon no longer even seemed concerned with his battle with Magus. He smashed his hammer onto the ground, letting the ground ripple from his blow.
Link heard Zelda scream elsewhere in the arena, and back away to the edge of the stands. Well, she won't be any help... Link knew what he had to do. The entire crowd was acting chaotically, and Magus was just standing there. Link dived onto the ground floor as another blast of fire destroyed part of the Stadium's wall. Link raced forward at the giant pig, screaming.
"Stay back, Link! This is not your fight!"
Magus stopped whatever he had been doing to yell at Link. Link groaned. Magus simply couldn't hope to beat Ganon like he was now. Ignoring Magus's request, he drew a light arrow and fired it straight into Ganon's eyes.
The pig roared in pain and began lumbering towards Link. Magus shook his head. "No! Not now..."
Magus fired off a quick lightning spell at Ganon, but the monster shrugged it off. His skin and armor was simply too tough.
Link smiled as he saw Ganon approaching him. "Good, now you'll see..."
Ganon swung at him with his hammer and knocked him sideways. Sprawled on the ground, Link tried to pick himself up but was struck in the chest by Ganon's hammer. His body went limp, and Ganon roared in triumph.
Magus felt like collapsing as well, but he had no choice. He's just too powerful. This has to stop. I didn't survive the darkness just to die in some dimension that shouldn't even exist. This cannot go on.
Magus raised his hands and threw up an enormous magic wall. Ganon bounced back against the blue shield. He grunted, and glared at Magus. The spell surrounded them both. Ganon begin to move in on Magus, raising his pitchfork, intending to skewer the magician.
Magus was running out of options fast. He readied his spells, and hoped for the best. I only have one chance here. I am the prince of Zeal... I must not fail.
Three giant chunks of ice appeared around Ganon's form. He bashed his way through the one in front of him and kept moving. A giant circle of fire appeared around the pig, threatening to incinerate him. Ganon merely walked through the flames with an evil grin. The ice and fire stayed around him, assaulting his skin with no effect. Magus gathered the energy for his most powerful spell, and cast dark matter once again upon his foe. Even that showed no effect. The unreal object couldn't even penetrate Ganon's armor. I see now why Link thought only he could beat him...
But there was no time to obtain the Master Sword from Link. Ganon was only a few feet away. All three of Magus's spells were surrounding him, uselessly. It was time to complete the incantation.
Magus was sweating intensely. Ganon was almost upon him. Concentrating as hard as he could, he began to attempt to combine the ice, fire, and dark matter spells. Their energies coalesced upon each other, amplifying the destructive power of the anti-matter attack. The opposites of heat and cold combined somehow, bringing the dark matter to its extremes.
It was this or nothing. He had no other choice. Magus screamed out the words as Ganon began to reach out to stab him with his pitchfork.
Magus felt the pitchfork pierce his chest as the ultimate destructive force began to be unleashed upon Ganon. The dark pig screamed and howled in agony. Ganon's eyes began to turn an intense shade of black. Somehow knowing that Magus was the cause of his troubles, he tried to lean forward to stab Magus again. The dark wind was spiraling around them, and threatening to lift them both into the air. Magus held his ground, and maintained his spell, letting the dark energies take their toll. Ganon's body begin shaking. His skin turned red. With one last primal effort he screamed as his entire body began to fade away.
Magus collapsed onto the ground. The wind disappeared as though it had never been. There was no trace of his opponent. His blood, and gaping chest wounds were the only sign that any fight had taken place there.
His torment was nearly over. He had won, but he was dying. He looked at the blood gushing from him. He had no chance to survive. Schala... farewell...
Magus's cape fluttered behind him in the wind. He spoke calmly. "If words were weapons, this match would already be over. Go ahead, take your best shot."
Ganondorf's powerful right fist flew forward at the magician. The Triforce embedded in his palm glowed, and erupted in a burst of power, striking Magus in the chest. Magus stumbled back, gasping from the blow. He hid his pain, and stood up straight, laughing. "Is that the best you can do?"
Ganondorf threw another powerful punch at him, but Magus ducked under the blow. Too predictable. He prefers to rely his strength alone. Even Crono knew better than that.
Ganondorf roared and came at Magus with a flurry of fists. The first one caught him in the stomach. Bearing the pain, Magus dodged to one side and swung his scythe in a lateral cut. The doom scythe glittered wickedly as it sought to claim another life. Ganondorf gasped in disbelief as he felt the weapon scrape, then penetrate his armor. He spun to face Magus and grabbed him by the cape. Ganondorf hurled him across the arena floor.
Magus made no effort to try to stop his movement, but let himself slide away from Ganondorf. He rose to his feet again and raised one beckoning hand. Moonlight shone off his cursed weapon as he raised it high in the air. Ganondorf growled and raced forward. Magus tried to use his scythe again, but Ganondorf slammed into him before he had a chance to react. He fell onto the floor again, reeling from the attack. Ganondorf growled again, incensed. Dark energy began to flow from his fingertips.
"Enough games! Do you even know who I am, wizard?"
Magus tried to catch his breath, and nodded his head. "You were the king of the Gerudo. You were the only male born into a tribe of women, and so you became their leader. You're the fulfillment of a prophesy which takes place once in a thousand years. You became the first among the insects that surrounded you, forced to hide away in a valley with rejects like yourself. You're nothing but a common thief."
A burst of dark energy flew from Ganondorf's palm. Magus rolled to one side and stood up, barely avoiding the blast. Ganondorf began to gather the energy for another shot, as Magus continued speaking.
"But of course, that wasn't enough. You feigned allegiance to the King of Hyrule, manipulating him for your own ends. You tricked Link into opening the sacred realm for you so you could claim the Triforce for yourself."
Ganondorf fired an enormous dark beam at him. The black energy crackled through the air, and Magus barely had time to erect a magic wall. His barrier strained, but withstood the barrage. The spell would absorb magical attacks up to a point, but the protection worked both ways. It limited the magical attacks he was able to use.
Ganondorf ceased his spell, and laughed at the wizard's verbal and magical efforts. "I see you've done your homework. A commendable effort. I envy you. I never had the opportunity to learn from another greater than myself."
Magus resumed his story, ignoring the wizard's taunt. "You took the Triforce, but failed in your goal. Power, wisdom, and courage were within your grasp... but you did not have all those qualities in yourself. You claimed power as your own, but lost the other two elements."
Ganondorf snorted. "Power is all I need. What use is anything without power? The powerful take what is theirs by right. The weak exist to serve them. It is the natural order of things."
"But there shall always be one more powerful than you. I learned that myself. The weak, together, can defeat the strong... as long as you are blind to your own weaknesses, you can never win."
Ganondorf shook his head. "Pathetic. I would have thought that even an excuse for a wizard like you could recognize true greatness."
"Oh, I know what you're capable of, Ganondorf." Magus stood on edge, preparing for another attack. "I've seen your power firsthand. Killing half the crowd here would be nothing to you. I know you, Ganondorf. But despite that, I'm not worried." Magus paused, and smiled at Ganondorf's expression. "You should very well wonder at that. Do you know me?"
Ganondorf hurled a ball of shadow energy at Magus, and was met full on by a wheel of lightning. The two magical spells twisted and convulsed upon each other. The lightning spell cut its way through Ganondorf's dark sphere and struck the warlock in the chest. The warlock twitched involuntarily, literally shocked by the attack. His own missile continued on unimpeded, and hit Magus's barrier, and the sheer force of the spell knocked Magus backwards.
Ganondorf rose up into the air, looking down on Magus with an evil glare. "For one who knows so much, you're still ignorant. Enough talk. This ends now."
Magus used his own magic to lift himself up in the air, hovering lightly above the ground. "Indeed."
Link leaned forward, breathlessly. Ganondorf was no longer holding back. His legendary nemesis began firing midnight black blasts out of his palms, while Magus was simply straining to avoid being annihilated. The lesser magician raced through the air as the dark forces pounded the ground below him. If there had been anything alive on the arena floor, whether it was animal, plant, or microscopic bacteria, it was dead now.
Magus halted, suspended in the air. A dark vortex of energy appeared around his hands, sucking in Ganondorf's attacks. The dark wind which had stayed with them for the entire match seemed drawn to it, spinning around Magus's form. Magus hurled the black hole at Ganondorf. Ganondorf's eyes widened. Link held his breath, waiting to see what Ganondorf would do to counteract the attack.
Ganondorf spread his hands apart and let loose another powerful spell. The black hole grew larger as it absorbed more energy, but Ganondorf concentrated his force around the edges of the black hole, attempting to compress it. The Gerudo King managed to tighten the edges of the black hole, but it continued to speed forward at him. Gritting his teeth, Ganondorf raised his fists and directed all his energy downwards. The black hole slammed into the ground below them, forming a hole hundreds of feet deep.
The King of Evil roared in triumph and fired an enormous blast at Magus, who tried to counter it with a dark bomb. Intense energies crackled through the air, beyond the likes of what most of the crowd had ever seen, or believed possible. Ganondorf's blast was several feet wide, but Magus's spell began growing upon contact with Ganondorf's discharge of energy. The dark bomb exploded in a maelstrom of power, surrounding Ganondorf's own spell and threatening to reach the magician. Ganondorf gritted his teeth and let another spell loose. It blazed through the air, piercing through both of their attacks. What was left of all of their energies slammed into Magus. His barrier collapsed upon itself, and his entire body felt like it was being destroyed from within.
Ganondorf flew through the air and slammed Magus into the ground. The prince of Zeal gasped in pain as he felt Ganondorf's iron boot pressing down on his chest.
Ganondorf laughed at his helpless opponent. Public humiliation was his favorite kind. Magus's hands were twitching helplessly, and he was muttering something. Ganondorf leaned over Magus's face, and spat on his brow.
"A pity to do so well only to fail. How would you like to die, weakling?"
Magus mumbled something else. Ganondorf leaned over to listen and laughed.
"What's that? It doesn't matter?"
"No..." Magus whispered. "Dark... matter."
Zeal's civilization had represented the peak of scientific and magical studies for the human race. The gurus of reason, life, and time had worked to unlock the mysteries of the universe, and sought to understand time, space, and reality itself. Their achievements were only beginning to be matched fourteen thousand years after the fall of Magus's kingdom.
The pinnacle of their studies had been an understanding of matter itself... and its parallel opposite, anti-matter. They were like fire and water to each other. When the two opposite manifestations of matter collided, they destroyed each other, and released pure energy. With the right magical manipulation and channeling of natural forces, it was possible to produce a sufficient quantity of anti-matter to destroy anything that existed in the physical plane.
Ganondorf, of course, understood none of this as the unreal projectile began to fly at him. He watched it curiously as it pulsated and grew in size. Had he studied what Magus had, he might have recognized the nested triangles in it as a three dimensional projection of a fourth dimensional object. But what his own senses and mind could not comprehend, he soon felt. The blob of surrealism tore at his armor, annihilating it. Ganondorf screamed in pain as he felt the skin around his heart being eradicated. Only his own magical energies saved him-he desperately tried to force the spell away. Its destructive force finally collided into the ground, having consumed an equal part of his skin for what it had lost.
Ganondorf fell onto the ground. He was bleeding from the chest. It was getting hard to think, let alone move. And yet he chuckled.
Magus picked himself up and looked down on the Gerudo warlock. His expression was without remorse or pity. "Enough. This battle is ended."
Ganondorf laughed bitterly. "You said it yourself, wizard, one of us is going to die here." Ganondorf's eyes began to burn with fire. "Only it won't be me..."
Magus stood alone in the center of the arena. Ganondorf had apparently not yet deemed them all worthy of his presence. Magus was resting on one knee, leaning on his scythe. He paid no heed to the unseen wind rushing around him. His eyes were closed, but his face bespoke intense concentration. He had been given every opportunity to study Ganondorf. The man's pointless brutality had reminded him of the worst of the mystics of his day.
He has a lust for power, but that is where his goals end. He has no use for power other than to destroy. Magus's soul burned as he thought of what Ganondorf had done. Ganondorf had destroyed another being with potential similar to his own, simply due to lack of restraint. Tidus had shown courage, power, and resolution-the qualities necessary to shape the world, if applied correctly. But he had been intimidated, and cut down before he was able to show what he was capable of.
It was like listening to a brilliant symphony, only to have the conductor die of a heart attack before you could hear the end. It was like watching the development of a mighty oak, only to have it be cut down before it could reach its prime. It would be like watching a fight like this one, only to have one of the fighters win by a cheap shot before it even truly began.
Tidus had reminded Magus of himself in some ways. Magus thought back to all that he had been. Trying to trace his life in any linear fashion was an exercise in futility. He was born over twelve thousand years before he first met Crono. They had first met each other on a night much like this one, on the top floor of his castle. The moon had shown brightly then too, silhouetting his caped form. He had fought Crono and his allies until both of them reached the brink of exhaustion. And then something unexpected had happened. Lavos chose that moment to respond to Magus's summons, and threw all them into the timestream.
Ironically, Crono's ill-timed fight may have saved his life. In Crono's own time, there was no record of Magus ever winning the war, but he was assumed to have been killed. The mystics gave up, demoralized by his loss. If Crono had not arrived when he did, Magus could only assume he would have challenged Lavos on his own. And failed. It would have been a fight for the ages, a chance to have his own pure revenge on the monster. But that chance had been taken from him, and he had been tossed away, hurled thousands of years into the past.
Twice in his life he had been thrown into the timestream without any control over his fate. The first trip came when his own mother used Lavos to send him away. She probably expected it to kill him. She had gone mad with power; she was beyond recognizing the consequences of her actions. The second trip sent him back to his own time, but before the fall of the kingdom of Zeal.
He had disguised himself as a prophet, and used his knowledge of the future, and his intimate knowledge of the events to follow to gain stature and influence. To accomplish his ends, he became a different person, until the time was right. But in doing so, he became conflicted with himself. More specifically, a past version of himself.
He had not always been Magus. Magus had been a construction to manipulate the mystics of his day. The brutes had needed a leader, he gave them one. But before he became the head of the army of magic-users, he had been Janus. A scared boy and the prince of Zeal. Magus had been willing to do anything to accomplish his goals. And his younger self had been willing to go just as far to defend those whom he saw as his friends.
He could have become someone much different if his life had not been stolen from him. He was shaped by circumstance, power, and a desire for vengeance. Tidus had seemed to him another example of potential stolen away. And the only use Ganondorf made of his existence was destroying those like Tidus. From what Magus had heard, Ganondorf had done far worse things than would even be allowed in the tournament held here. He only fought the weak, and killed those who had enough potential to be a threat. But tonight, he would learn to answer to his betters.
An explosion rocked the arena. A puff of smoke billowed from the spot opposite Magus. Ganondorf had chosen that moment to arrive. He had teleported in by some magical spell. An evil grin spread across his face as he gazed at Magus. The crowd cheered at his impressive entrance. It was easy to see whom they favored already.
Idiots. Power is not to be found in appearances. And the respect of fools is worthless, Magus thought. Ganondorf raised a gloved hand at him in a mocking gesture. The truly powerful have no need for a show. Power does not exist to be flaunted. His own pride shall doom him.
Magus raised himself up straight and leveled his cold gaze at the other man. They were evenly matched for height. Soon everyone there would know if they were evenly matched in magical ability as well.
Link raced into the arena, trying to grab a seat near the front. The unusual scheduling of the fight today had messed up his schedule. Ganondorf was going to dispose of his last victim before Link had his chance to destroy him. Link's brow furrowed. The warlock must not be allowed to defeat him. If Ganondorf won the tournament... it would be horrific for everyone. Any price was worth preventing the dark magician from taking what he wanted.
For now though, Link could only watch another fighter fall. But he still had to be there, to see Ganondorf in action. The better he understood how the dark wizard fought, the better his chances of winning. Fox had proved that much to him. He smiled to himself. Perhaps his last match had done him some good.
Crono gestured to him a few seats away. The spiky haired warrior had saved him a seat. He was sitting beside another spiky haired fighter, Cloud. Link took the empty seat to Crono's right. "Thanks," he muttered.
"No problem," Crono said. He was rubbing his hands in anticipation as he watched the fighters. "This oughta be good, you can count on Magus to make a battle interesting."
Link had to wonder at that. "You know that guy?"
"Yeah, pretty much." Crono waved down at Magus, and received only silence as his reply. Crono shrugged. "He's good, sorry about you having to fight him later."
Link had to laugh at that one. The red haired fighter was amusing, that was for sure. Cloud and Crono were staring at him with puzzled expressions. Link regained control of himself and made his voice as serious as he could.
"I don't care how skilled your friend is, he's not going to get to fight me next round. Ganondorf is going to slaughter him. There's only one warrior destined to beat him, and that's me."
Crono shook his head and shrugged. "I'm sure Ganondorf is pretty strong..."
"Of course he's strong!" Link interrupted. "He just can't be beaten. He has the Triforce of power. He ravaged Hyrule for years. Only a warrior like me can beat him." Link pointed to the Master Sword knowingly.
Crono shrugged again. "I still wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now."
"Whatever," Link muttered. Apparently he'd have to wait for the fight to prove his point.
Link relaxed into his chair. Ganondorf looked impressive out on the battlefield. His fiery red hair was a stark contrast to Magus's more mellow, long blue hair. Ganondorf was decked out in full armor, from his head to his toe. Cast iron boots and gloves protected his feet and hands. Jewels were encrusted all over his uniform, symbolizing the power which the man inside bore. All that was exposed of him was his head, and that showed his confidence even more. A sinister smile was gazing at Magus. Link could almost feel the power Ganondorf held, just waiting to be unleashed onto the hapless magician. Magus wore a red cape, and simple light tunic that left his upper arms exposed. He held a scythe in his right hand.
He's relying on that physical weapon? Now that's just sad. Link breathed a sigh of anticipation. This was going to be good to watch. He had to see if Ganondorf had improved as much as he had since they last fought.
The dark wind began to circle through the center of the arena, like a miniature whirlwind. Ganondorf looked up at it and laughed. "Heh, the wind, it's blowing..."
Magus nodded his head. It was a familiar omen. "The black wind howls. Death is in the air. One of us is going to perish here."
Ganondorf laughed again. "Ah, so he admits it! Your fate has already been written, wizard. My destiny lies in the next round."
Magus cocked his head to one side and looked at Ganondorf. "You know, I've never been a big fan of destiny."
Ganondorf raised a gloved fist. "Then you must learn to accept your fate. This arena shall be your tomb. The last few minutes of your life will be the most glorious you have ever experienced, for you shall get to experience the most powerful force in existence firsthand. Prepare yourself!"
Magus smiled, and raised his scythe. "Oh, I am. I have lived my whole life dancing with death. Are you prepared for the void?"
January 22, 2012
My heart is racing with the rush of adrenaline pulsing through me. Your eyes are glistening with the stars from the beautiful night sky. My stomach is curling up with intense tightness and butterflies as i watch you walk by me. All my friends say your not worth my time if i ain't with you, but i could care less what they say. I've never experienced some much passionate tension from one person until i saw you. My heart and mind are telling me that i should go for you, but i'm also battling my fear of rejection. I would feel like a little girl waking up from a bad nightmare with no help from my legal parent or guardian. I would love it if me and you were to be together. It would be my complete life's mission to make you happy, forever and always.
Hawken settled into her chair, letting herself sink into the oversized sofa. Her head pounded and she switched on the television. Like every other day this week, the new was filled with news of deaths, teenagers taken from their homes in the middle of the night and killed by a cold-blooded murderer. Hawken shuddered, flipping to the next channel. A noise made her jump, but still her eyes didn’t move from the screen.
“Hey, Muffin,” she said, not needing to look up. Muffin snapped his fingers, frustrated with his noisy attempt to sneak up on his friend. He slid into his place on the couch near her, his eyes level with hers.
“Hawken,” he said, his voice shaking. When Hawken turned to him, he continued. “Trish isn’t talking to me.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Hawken reassured him. “I doubt she’s going to break up with you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Not this time,” Muffin replied, nodding towards the T.V.
Hawken’s eyes flickered back towards the screen, studying the words flashing below her show. Yet another girl disappeared and the police immediately believed the killer was behind it all. She looked into her lap, shaking her head. She thought back to kindergarten the first time any of them talked to each other, when Trish ran into the woods behind their school. She had gotten lost and it took hours for them to find her.
“Maybe it’s like that,” Hawken said, not explaining her train of thought.
“Like what?” Muffin asked, moving over, closer to her.
“In kindergarten, when she ran off before.”
Muffin seemed to be pondering the idea and Hawken stood up to join him on the couch. The familiar feel of her head on his shoulder comforted Muffin, making him feel like she may just be right. Maybe Trish wasn’t the last person who went missing. Maybe he was just over thinking it.
The sound of knuckles beating on the old front door of Hawken’s house made both of the teenagers jump. Manheim, another of their good friends, strolled in, helping himself to a lemonade as he strolled into the kitchen. Hawken glanced up, her cheeks flushing at the sight of the other boy.
“Hey, Hawk,” Manheim said, taking the seat Hawken had previously been sitting in. “Muff.” The greeting wasn’t cold, just laid-back and familiar. Hawken wondered if he had seen Trish around, maybe Manheim would be able to talk Muffin out of his depressive state.
“Hey,” came Muffin’s greeting. His delayed reaction perturbed Hawken, making her realize she had yet to win. He was still a mess over Trish’s disappearance, when it really wasn’t anything serious.
“Dude, have you seen Trish today?” Hawken asked Manheim, fishing for the reassurance that Muffin needed.
“Sorry, no,” he replied. “But I bumped into her yesterday on my way home from school.” His words were broken apart as he took sips of lemonade. Hawken felt as Muffin moved deeper in the couch, as if it was going to swallow him whole.
“Did she say anything?” Muffin’s voice was broken, too, but it was sorrowful and sad.
“She broke her phone,” Manheim said. He had picked up the remote and scanned through the channels. “She said she’d call you when she got her new one and said to let you know that she misses and loves you.”
Those words were apparently all that Muffin needed to calm down. Feeling Muffin’s body ease up, Hawken was able to calm down herself. Without the worry of Trish being the next victim of the state’s mysterious killer, Hawken could finally breathe.
The more Hawken thought about it, the more she realized how many memories she had made with her friends in her house. In the twelve years she had known and been friends with Manheim and Muffin, she could name and describe a special day in every year. A picture of the three, on the very first day the boys came over, hung to the left of Hawken’s T.V. She laughed when she thought about how Muffin got his nickname that day, eating almost every muffin her mother placed in front of him.
“What’s on your mind?” Manheim asked, pulling her out of her subconscious.
“Oh,” she said, blushing more as he talked to her. “Nothing, really.”
“Lies,” he said calmly, turning back towards the television.
Sitting there, in the living room of the Adams’ home, was where the trio spent most of their summer vacation. Over Christmas vacation, they had done almost the same thing, except that they were able to get Muffin’s PlayStation hooked up. Now that it was almost February, the impending doom of life after graduation was beginning to creep over them, especially for Hawken.
The voices of the people on the screen went back and forth, attacking each other with static through the speakers. None of them were really watching what was happening, just reading as the news trailed across the bottom of the screen. They were looking for names, trying to figure out just how many people they knew.
New Hampshire isn’t the smallest of all the states, they knew that part, but they also knew it wasn’t the largest either. For them, it just meant that there was more of a possibility of them knowing any of the teens who were kidnapped.
“Damn it!” Another female voice entered the room, but this one didn’t come through the sound systems. Hawken looked up to see her mother coming to the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, shaking her hand violently.
“Mom,” Hawken said, startled. She lifted her head up, sitting up straight. “I didn’t hear you open the door.”
“Oh,” her mom laughed. “I love how you sit up like that, thinking you’re going to be in trouble.” Kristi-Ann Adams was one of those women who demanded a presence whenever she walked into a room, her crisp suit making her appear a hundred times bigger than she really was. Her blonde hair, like always, was pulled back in a neat bun. Even her make-up was consistently flawless.
“Well, you did come inside yelling. I figured it had to be because of me.”
“No,” Kristi said. Her voice wasn’t as cheerful as it had been before. “I shut the door on myself, and it’s freezing out there.”
Hawken shook her head, leaning back into the couch. Muffin shifted next to her and Manheim came over to join them, Kristi coming in and sitting with the kids. She reclined on the chair, a beer in her hand that Hawken hadn’t seen her grab. The woman looked over at the boys, hiccupping as she took a sip from her bottle.
“Hi, Josh. Hi, Zane.” Her greeting was late, but, like her daughter, she was used to the extra two people in her house.
“Mom,” Hawken said, her voice sharp. “Manheim and Muffin. Have I called them anything differently since… I don’t know, kindergarten?”
“No, but those are their names.”
Hawken just rolled her eyes, glancing over at Manheim. Muff! Switch places with me, please! She thought. Like usual, her silent wish was granted when Muffin stood up and Manheim moved over. While Muffin crossed the room to the kitchen, Manheim draped his arm over Hawken’s shoulder. She placed her cheek on his shoulder, leaning easily against him as she watched her mom flip through channels.
Kristi looked over at her daughter, giving her a wink when she looked at the way Hawken and Manheim were sitting. Kristi was balancing her beer on her knee, the pant leg of her suit growing darker in color as the condensation spread across the fabric. Hawken looked up at the clock. It’s only two o’clock… She thought, it’s going to be a long night.
Hawken knew that if her mom was beginning to drink now, the Boy was coming over. “The Boy” was her and her friends name for Cobra, Kristi’s boyfriend of the month. While, on the outside, Kristi seemed so put together, she was a wreck. Since Hawken’s dad died a few months before she turned six, she was barely able to remember her parents together. Most of what Hawken knew came from her mom, and even then she didn’t know exactly what was real and what was the alcohol talking.
Some newscaster’s voice brought Hawken’s thoughts back to reality as he announced the newly-confirmed death count. Muffin came back to join them, listening just as intently when the man in the suit began to speak.
“Fifteen,” said the man. “Fifteen dead, and another missing. Of the fifteen, nine are female.” The man took a breath, letting the woman next to him continue with the broadcast.
“New Hampshire police still aren’t sure who this killer is or what, exactly he has in mind,” she said. “While the search continues, authorities have released the name of the young woman who was recently kidnapped, along with the contents of a note found on the floor of her bedroom.
Trish Mason, an eighteen year old from Manchester, New Hampshire, was reported missing this morning by her mother. This young woman, shown here, has dark brown hair similarly colored eyes. She is a little over five feet tall and will most likely be in pajamas,” the woman continued. “The note found in her room had the words ‘You’re next. M.’ written on it, warning her that he would be coming for her. Any leads-”
Kristi clicked off the television, leaving the screen black against the pale mint walls. The walls and Muffin’s complexion seemed to match as the teen placed his head between his legs, rocking back and forth. In his mind, all he could see was the picture of Trish that the station had used to identify her. He remembered the day in the photo. It was their first time going to the zoo together and he saw his arm in the picture, even if the rest of him was cut out. Hawken looked over at him, Manheim’s arm still around her.
“Muffin,” Hawken said, her voice breathless as she tried to find the words to say. She looked at Manheim, whose eyes were also focused on their friend.
“Don’t, Hawken,” Muffin warned, his eyes on the floor. “There’s absolutely nothing that you can say right now.”
Without warning, he stood up and swayed a little, making the others dizzy just because they were watching him. He stormed out of the house, leaving Hawken stuck between the enticing idea that she had Manheim all to herself and the pure horror of Trish’s kidnapping.
“I’m going to go make sure he’s okay,” Manheim said, scooting away from Hawken before he stood up. “You know, a little bro-time.”
Hawken just nodded and let him go. He placed a kiss on her cheek and then waved to her mom, walking out of the room. Kristi’s half-finished beer was still resting on her leg while she stared at the black screen.
“Hawken,” Kristi said. She pronounced the syllables said at the same time as the opening and closing of the door when Manheim left. “You’re not leaving this house, got it?”
Again, Hawken just nodded silently, thinking about all the possibilities of what could happen to Trish. Her silent prayer for her friend’s safety was cut off by a deep, male’s voice and the slamming of the front door.
“Kristi, Hawken!” The man said. He stood over six feet tall, his face creased with age and his mouth set, probably permanently, into a stern line. “I’m so sorry about your friend, Hawk.”
“Me too,” she replied, standing up and heading in the direction of her bedroom. She could hear her mother’s bottle being set down behind her. Just as she was about to walk into her bedroom, she could hear the footrest of the chair being snapped shut. “And the making-out commences.”
She shut her door and bounced onto her bed, pulling a book off the nightstand next to her. She let herself sink into the thick comforter, deeply engaged in the words on every page, happy that she had something to get her mind off the activities her mother was probably participating in.
January 20, 2012
Please please please help me fix the iambic pentameter of this Shakespearean Sonnet. I can't figure out how to do it. Thank youuu<333
We know they think she is a crazy bitch
There is reason to believe the rumor
I wish she was not so much of a snitch
Her snide catch phrase: “where’s your sense of humor?”
She expects too much for us to keep up
She does not mean a single thing she does
Fake as a girl’s face covered in makeup
She keeps them whispering a steady buzz
She yells at children and makes the kids cry
But the high school is where she really thrives
Rumors, gossip, more than one pretty lie
Spreading them all over, ruining lives
Yet a truly bad friend is one thing she’s not
Though there are troubles, we like her a lot
Its was just like any other day at
Pembroke. I drove in right as the bell was ringing and class was starting. My
first class was Latin. There were a lot of cool people in it, only problem was
that the teacher was a stiff. Last time she laughed Bob Hope could actually
count backwards from 10. You see today was my best friends birthday, and he sat
next to me in Latin. I had asked the teacher yesterday if I could bring in some
cookies for him and she immediately shut that down. So I did it anyway. I made
enough for everyone to have one cookie, only problem was they were peanut
butter cookies. Matt Jones is allergic to peanut butter. So Matt has a near
death experience blah blah blah… I end up in my good old friend Mr. Zinga’s
office. Mr. Zinga is the principal at Pembroke, and me and him have, well, a
rather expansive history. Every since I put ketchup packets under the toilet
seats freshman year he’s been on me like white on rice. Anyway, he sits me down
just like always, looks up at the clock, then the ground, then up to me. He
starts going on about the same shit as usual, how I need to be more aware,
listen to the teachers, respect the other students…then he stops and looks
right at me. He says that he is tired of seeing me in his office, and if I get
sent back to him again im not playing hockey this season. Now at first I
thought he was bluffing, I sat back in my seat, crossed my arms and gave him
the good old mafia stare down. It didn’t seam to work this time. Was he
serious? I slowly stood up and left his office.
Magical liquid simmering in mugs.
A few sips and my veins start to buzz.
It makes me want to give everyone hugs.
Leave it out for a few months, it grows fuzz.
Makes me talk like Master Yoda, it does.
What a wonderful morning pick-me-up.
It's so delicious, I drink it just 'cuz.
Waitress, you better pour more in that cup!
If you want to live, better fill 'er up.
Mr. Greene claims that it's bitter, like life.
I don't have a problem, shut the hell up!
Hand over the sugar, I HAVE A KNIFE!!
I'm sorry, swear there's nothing wrong me!
I just love to drink gallons of coffee.
The pirates were the first group to
go into the hallway. This group is made up of 4 members, Josh, Anthony, Dylan,
and Brendan. As Josh slowly opened the door, a zombie decided to stick his hand
through and fling the door open. Anthony quickly noticed that Josh was in
danger and chopped the zombie in half, the long way, with his trusty Katana.
The 4 boys glanced at each other, almost acknowledging that this wasn't going
to be easy. Josh stood up and continued on his journey out the door. As they
entered into the upper C hallway, they could see rooms with their doors wide
open. Brendan decided they should go inspect them to see what was going on. The
group walked over to the first room and creepily made their way into the room.
To their surprise the room was empty. They walked over to the next one and it
too was empty. All the rooms were empty. No bodies and no zombies either, just
the traces of a struggle and blood smears that stain the floor like red wine on
a white rug. Dylan spoke up and suggested that they go and check the academy.
Maybe some of the administrators had locked the doors and stayed safe. As soon
as they turned around to head back down the hallway, an entire fleet of zombies
had gathered on the other end. Both groups stood there for a second, as if they
were sizing each other up. Anthony looked down at his Katana and started to say
a prayer to the sword gods, Josh looked at Dylan and put it as simple as it
could be put: “Well dude, it’s time to sack up.” Josh and Dylan both loaded a
full clip into their semi-automatic AK-47's as Brendan began to start the motor
on his chainsaw. Anthony rose his head up from the bowing position, pointed his
sword at the line of zombies, and without hesitation charged right at the fleet
of flesh eating bastards. The zombies charged back towards him as Brendan
wasn't far behind. Josh and Dylan took slow steady steps as they began to fire
off round after round at the approaching line, being sure to make every shot
count. By the time the line had reached Anthony, it wasn't much of a line at
all. There were about 6 or 7 zombies left out of the roughly 30 that were
present at the start of this skirmish. Anthony swung his sword with masterful
precision, placing each of his blows in a fatal position on the zombies head or
neck. Brendan charged with reckless abandon and, well, let’s be honest, you
would too if you had a damn chainsaw. As the dust settled and the final body of
the zombie line fell to the ground, the boys looked at each other with an
entire new mindset on this day. It had turned into something they had only seen
in movies, and maybe even wrote about in their creative writing class, who
knows? But all 4 of them had begun to realize that this wasn’t some video game,
and that if they don’t make it out of the school alive it might be game over