middaeg | [Closed] When you can no longer run...

Entry tags:

[Closed] When you can no longer run...

Who: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Various
When: April 2020
Where: The Mirror House
What: Memory Share.
Warnings: Warnings for the following: Violence, language, blood, death, warfare, religious/anti-religious themes, human experimentation, mental health, insanity, and body horror.

Some OOC Notes:
This is going to be a closed catch-all for Edelgard's memory share threads. I will be posting individual starters in the comments, so please assume that all CWs that apply for this log apply to each thread.

I apologize for those that missed my initial plotting post at the beginning of the month, but I've got a lot of threads planned and won't be able to take on more memory shares at this time. Thank you for your understanding, I'll make sure to hit more people next month!

Edelgard's Mirror, The Beginning:

The mirror, Edelgard's Mirror, is an ornate affair. The kind of thing that one would expect to find associated with someone who's influence has shaped a continent's future, for better or for worse. It has an eagle motif worked around the edges, though with considerably more going on. Wings ringed with golden, thorny vines and topped with roses made seemingly out of ruby, the wood has a more bony appearance, as though it'd been carved out of the remains of some great beast. The mirror at the center calls, and pulls the viewer inside...

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Edelgard, the real one, is waiting in the hallway. Standing, arms crossed, following her younger self's gait as she meanders down a hallway towards an outdoor balcony. Zelda's appearance earns a small smile and a dip of her head.

"Perhaps it is, Zelda."

She begins to follow, keeping a safe distance, unsure of the rules of the dreams as of yet. The way her younger self is going is familiar. A path she's walked a dozen...no...a hundred times on sleepless nights. Unable to stop from speculating, this could be any number of events, but she believes that it's that night.

As they walk, another figure steps out of a side passage. The form of Byleth, moving at her usual brisk clip and pausing at the balcony to stare at the young Edelgard.

The older Edelgard stiffens, but doesn't stop, walking out to join the two of them on the balcony, turning to Zelda before the conversation begins.

"I apologize...I recognize what it is for certain now. It...may be unpleasant, and I am sorry."

The elfin princess takes to Edelgard's side, keeping pace with the Emperor as opposed to her younger self, now. The appearance of a familiar face, one that seems to be able to see and touch her, is welcome. It does not keep her from feeling strange, as if walking through a dream— but Edelgard's words make her contemplate the possibility it is a nightmare.

"Unpleasant?," she repeats, turning her head. They keep pace, walking along the way at a pace that might be leisurely, but feels like torture now. She almost wants to run ahead. Byleth passes overhead and Zelda watches, curious— the hair color is exactly as deep as the blue of Calla Lilies. Hm...? Her attention snaps back to the older, taller in only energy Edelgard.

With a curious, but firm tone, she responds. "I care not if it is unpleasant. We each as people have things quite difficult in our pasts. If this is what I am to learn of you, then I shall accept it." Turning to look ahead, her gaze sweeps the halls. "If we are to be friends, Edelgard, then pleasantries are only such if we can see that which is unpleasant as well."

Edelgard held Zelda's gaze, meeting her eyes with a heaviness that she yet shown to the other woman. She hated the idea of this being known to someone else, but she also couldn't stop it. And truthfully, Zelda's words had a strong ring of truth to them. Pleasantries were nice, but true friends? They saw everything. Experienced everything, right alongside you.

"You...are...right," she says with a faltering nod, suddenly feeling both nervous and appreciative. "I've no objections to you seeing this, please don't misunderstand. I simply...this is not a thing I have shared with many people, nothing more."

She reaches a hand out, offering to take Zelda's hand at that, knowing that she personally will need the support. It's never easy to go over this particular topic. And whether her friend takes her hand or no, the Emperor will lead the way out onto the balcony.

The scene that plays out is nothing more than a conversation, but it was a conversation filled with personal meaning. Edelgard watches impassively as her younger self details her goals, her ambitions, and also her pain. It leaves her quiet, and...as the pair of phantoms meander off together, she remains unmoving, watching Zelda for her reaction.

There is no hesitance to Zelda's grip. Taking the Emperor of the Adrestian Empire's hand, she nods as if to let her know she intends to stay here, with her, rooted to the recollection of this. She does not wander, allowing Edelgard to take the lead. It is her past, it is her story: Zelda can only bare witness to it. The balcony, beneath the moonlight, wears silvers and blues. She looks to the night sky, briefly, searching for the constellations and geometric lines she knows. A sign of the Sheikah, even in another's mindscape, she thinks.

The younger Edelgard's voice has an edge to it that Zelda had not expected, somehow; that isn't to imply that she believes the one whose hand she holds with a grip she prays is comforting lacks that edge, though. It simply is that she expects a girl with such long, beautiful hair to be a little more soft, but she lacks that. As the tale unravels with ease, she looks from the Byleth of the past to the Edelgard beside her, and she thinks of a storm during her travels with Link. She says nothing.

It is understandable, then, her sincere hesitation at sharing this memory. As the ghost of Edelgard's past haunts her, so too will it haunt Zelda. There's a moment of clarity in her mind as she connects what Saber had once said to her— nobility shall always sacrifice for the common man. In this case, there is a catacomb beneath Edelgard's feet, and still, she sacrifices. She has lost and lost and still, there is a fight to start, a war to win. She doesn't think it's wrong. How could she, knowing what it is that Edelgard has lost?

How strange. It seems that none of the nobility she has met has been fated to life of normalcy, a life with a full family... A life of brutal training, as one by one, those who love you are lost in some form or another.

She squeezes the hand in her's.

"Do you still long for the outdoors, Edelgard?"

There are many things, she knows, that they have in common. Perhaps some day, then, she might be a woman like Edelgard. Someone capable of leading her country into a new world.

Edelgard's grip tightens slightly, an unconscious twitch that she can't control. This is never, ever something that she's able to think of without being called back to that dark place. She shuts her eyes, not wanting to look at anything, but her breathing she manages to keep under control. A faint few shallow breaths are all the trouble she has for the moment.

Zelda, she wishes, did not have to hear this. Not because she fears that Zelda won't understand, or that she won't be sympathetic, but because it is a burden she doesn't feel that she should place upon a friend who has a kingdom of her own to be concerned about. She's expecting words of shock, honestly, because who wouldn't find that revelation stunning.

Which is why the question catches her off guard. The pressure of Zelda's hand against her glove and the gentle query are enough to put her mind somewhat more at ease, enough to facilitate words instead of simply a nod or a shake of her head. And enough to keep her from shaking with the memory.

"...Yes. Always. Though I cannot feel the sun on my face any longer, I still wish for it," she answers. Becoming a vampire had been a particularly cruel fate for her in that regard, though she had at least not had to undergo the more drastic transformations that might be worse in the long run.

"I cannot go underground without difficulty, either," she admits in a low voice, thick with emotion. "But I love the outdoors. Even by moonlight. It's the thing that makes me feel the most free, and a reminder that I've moved forward."

It is a shock. Truly, such words do not need to be said. When revelation as this are unveiled, one can only hold their head up and keep going. Listening to the somberness in Edelgard's voice against the noise of the night, Zelda turns her head to take in the expression on her face. She thinks she sees something like coming back down to Earth, perhaps, reflected in her gaze.

"I can understand why," she admits after a pause. "When I was younger— I lost my mother. There are paintings and whatnot of her face, but recollections of her smiles, her voice... I lack those things. I lacked her training, as well, and so I had to work twice as hard to make up for that gap." Nostalgia and yearning colors her tone, and she closes her eyes to try and remember the portraits she had seen. Distant, fuzzy memories float to the front of her mind like parts of a ship washed ashore.

Her hesitation must be palpable, something you can cut with a knife. She hopes that Edelgard does not read into it. "My father and I had a difficult relationship as a result. ...It was due to the fact my powers, the ones we would rely on to seal Calamity Ganon away, had not come forth."

Too familiar? She pauses, waits for a response.

Edelgard listens, quiet, intent. She is ever attentive, ever focused, and it's much easier to focus on Zelda's words than on the scene before them or on her own past. She takes it in, not at all reading into the hesitation, nor on the obvious difficulty that Zelda seems to be having relaying some of this. It's a pain she can empathize with as well, for...many of the same reasons that she cannot remember the faces of her siblings.

"I...likewise do not really remember my mother. I have paintings, of course, and I have some dim memories, but she passed away when I was young as well. And I have...difficulty...with my memories from my early childhood."

Before the incidents, she means to imply, without stating such.

"Your powers didn't manifest? Or...oh, Zelda..." Concern fills her as she turns over the implication in her friend's tone.

"What happened?"

Difficulty with your childhood memories is an understandable result of torture, Zelda muses, but does not say. Instead, she looks forward, the scene before them frozen as they talk of the ghosts and things that came to fruition but were unwanted. A different kind of sad story from ones you hear in passing during courtly mingling, it would seem. She wants to ask Edelgard about her mother, because that's what Zelda wishes people would have done for her. She so loved hearing about her from Urbosa, though she knows she cannot bring Edelgard a similar experience. Perhaps, however, she could jog her memory a bit.

She shakes her head, removing the idea from her skull altogether.

"Perhaps we shall trade the truth for the truth, then." Still holding Edelgard's hand, the princess begins to move, attempting to lead her back. Surely, there's an exit just as there had been an entrance. There is little that she can say about what happened, in truth, but she can respect the pain of revisiting this memory for her.

With a soft sigh, she continues, "Hyrule is rebuilding. I had told you that, I believe... but not why it had to rebuild?" She squares her shoulders, steeling herself. "It was my failure at my duty as the princess that propelled my kingdom into a dark age, helmed by that beast called Calamity Ganon."

"An equitable exchange."

Edelgard follows, letting herself be led without stopping. Her eyes linger on Zelda's hand a moment as they pass through the archway, and she wonders (not for the first time) what she's done to deserve a patient friend like this. Even with her enthusiasm dampened by the mood in the room, she's a very pleasant person to be around. Someones that she can take comfort from are rare enough.

"You did tell me of Calamity Ganon, in name. And you told me that it needed rebuilding...but no. That is new information," Edelgard admits, squeezing the hand held in hers in solidarity.

"What happened?"

Her answer does not come immediately. It is only once the haze of a nap recedes, Garegg Mach traded for the Hall of Mirrors, though her heeled riding boots continue to click on the hard flooring. She keeps Edelgard's hand in hers. "A great many things," Zelda says, with all the strength she can muster. She cannot allow herself weakness in this moment, where she seeks honesty.

"That span a century," she continues, "a century that cast my kingdom into darkness."

With the Hall of Mirrors restored, she leads Edelgard to her mirror. The same one she had been removed from, and approaching it summons images to the it's surface. It is an elegant and simple mirror, carved triangles in a formation at each of it's four corners, and a flower sprouting from the top, like a centerpiece. Relinquishing the grip upon Edelgard's hand, she stands to the side and laces her fingers, placing her hands over her midsection.

The mirror shows a world— her Hyrule. There are lush greens, stunning golden sun rays and skies as blue as altered dye that stretch on forever. The image swims, but it is always of this world, this home of her's.

"Would you like to see, perhaps?"

Edelgard follows without question or comment, nodding quietly and mulling over the body language of her friend. She pauses, briefly, to look at the mirror. The details of it seem quite suited. The triangles are an interesting touch, though she's seen the same on some of the other Zelda's clothing. She's assumed it to be a Hylian emblem or something, though little does she suspect it's true nature.

The land on the other side looks like a magical place. Sunny and bright...and she can't help an eager pang to feel it's warmth on her skin. She's experienced sunlight within the mirrors already, so she's not concerned with safety...making the sun just a perk.

"I would. If I may. Your world looks beautiful"

She reaches out for the glass, but doesn't take her eyes off of Zelda. She won't if there's any hesitation in her friend's gaze...but if she does not object, then Edelgard places her hand on the glass and waits for the mirror to draw her in.

At her words, there is a twinge in Zelda's heart. Silently, to herself, she vows to show Edelgard her Hyrule some day; the rolling hills, the sprawl of flower fields, the hiking trails, the beautiful settlements full of people who are resilient and kind, stronger than she had ever thought people could be. It is a beautiful world, one that she misses dearly. The Sheikah Slate has pictures; that will have to do.

She, too, after all, has lived a life in captivity. Zelda was lucky: She could travel, could find these things up close. Her father was not always capable of stopping her, though he certainly tried.

So the world spins, falling into disarray and molting into her Hyrule, though it is not the beautiful one Edelgard surely expects. The scene settles into a wash of dark neutrals, of heavy rain, the sound of wet dirt being trampled. In the distance there are a series of explosions, the sounds of war, of death, of utter chaos. If she peers out past the full branches of trees, she'll be able to see what looks like the epicenter of it all: A castle, imposing and powerful, besieged by some unknown force. Royal purple and black tendrils envelope it as a dragon-like beast roars over head, it's form so black it looks like a void. The light is trapped within it, swallowed whole.

"It was my seventeenth birthday," Zelda says, and walks through the onslaught of rain within her memory. There's two people in the distance running towards them. "It was my duty to awaken my powers to seal Ganon away, the final step in our plan to stop him and the the destruction of our world. In order to do so, it was required of the princess with these powers to pray at three springs; the Spring of Courage, of Power and Wisdom. At both Courage and Wisdom..."

As the pair's faces come into view, Edelgard will recognize one— Zelda's. She is tugged along by a boy, only barely shorter than her, with a sword strapped to his back. Robed in the same blue she travels in, he leads her through the forest with focused determination, never once letting up. He is fast, too, pushing her to her limit. She does not keep up, for her feet trip and she drags herself forward, gasping with each fall. He barely gives her time to recover, but his brow is just barely creased with worry and concern.

It's easy to see they're escaping.

"It was law that only those of age could visit the Spring of Wisdom, and so I waited until the day I became so. When I ... failed at all three of those springs..."

She looks towards the the castle. It is hard to see, but with an eagle eye, such destruction is unmissable.

"Calamity Ganon struck."

There is more to this memory, and so Zelda continues walking. The Link and Zelda of the past are catching up, quickly, to the princess and emperor.

It's a world of greys, and a world of horrors. Edelgard is certainly no stranger to battle, to the squelch of boots in mud, the chaotic noises of combat. She's been at the forefront of so many battles these last years. Even the draconic head is somewhat familiar, though it's much more massive than the Immaculate One, and certainly more unholy looking. It seems almost Agarthan, by her reckoning. A monster.

The boy and Zelda captivates her attention next, and she commits the face to memory. Should the boy arrive, she wants to be able to greet him. Properly.

Following, moving on dream-swift feet, the Emperor's gaze tilts towards the castle, and again sees the devastation. Truly this must be a horrid memory to relive, but she supposes it's a thing they share. And Zelda had seemingly chosen it, so her fears of prying are waylaid.

"I see," she says softly, eyeing her friend with gentleness. "Your kingdom continues though, does it not?"

It is an understandable question and one that she thinks, quickly, should not knock her off balance. As she turns to look at Edelgard, the memory of her and Link running towards them catches up to the two royals. Indeed, she looks pained before she answers with a shake of her head.

The rain soaked Zelda of her memories looks behind her. Link's rain-slick grip gives out at the same time, and she tumbles, falling to her knees. Skidding to a halt, Link rejoins her on her knees, kneeling before her and sheathing the sword upon his back.

"How," comes Zelda's voice, tiny and strained. She's out of breath after running for so long, but... Distraught, confused, she continues, "How did it come to this? The Divine Beasts, the Guardians. It turned them against us." She's huddled into the grass, hunched over and shaking— from what? Exhaustion? Grief? Even as she watches the memory unfold, Zelda doesn't think she could answer such a question. "It was... Calamity Ganon." As the revelation seems to strike her, she raises her head to meet Link's gaze— the boy looks back at her with a empathetic gaze, brows knitted in concern and mutual heartache.

"And everyone— Mipha, Urbosa, Revali and Daruk....They're all trapped inside those things." It is hard to deny the tears in her eyes, though they fall as she weeps, throwing her hands over her face. "It's all my fault! Our only hope for defeating Ganon is lost all because I couldn't harness this cursed power! Everything— everything I've done up until now... It was all for nothing." He voice cracks as she reveals her face to him again, tears streaking down her face, "So I really am just a failure! All my friends... The entire kingdom.... my father most of all... I tried and I failed them all...

I've left them... all to die."

With a choked sob, the princess collapses into her knight's arms.

Though they do not dissipate into nothing, Zelda herself seems to deem this the end of her memory. Listening to it all again strikes her with a heaviness she has not felt in a few months, and her shoulder shake despite her straightforward posture. She dares not show weakness, for if she does, it will send her spiraling. With knitted brows, she gazes into Edelgard's visage.

"No, Edelgard. The only survivors of the castle were... myself and Link. The commonfolk were devastated and many more would not be able to survive the ensuing onslaught of monsters that Ganon would bring with it. An aftereffect of sealing it into battle with me for a century was something called a Blood Moon... which emboldened the beasts of the realm, and awakened those that were felled."

She closes her eyes.

"That is why I must return and rebuild Hyrule."

This is a difficult scene to watch and remain calm. She can only imagine how it galls Zelda to have her see it, and to see herself after such a failure. There's no way to soften the word. Zelda had failed at something. Some test, some...thing...that would have helped stop this. But also this Ganon had surprised them in some way. It had managed to turn the Beasts against those they were meant to defend? She recalled them, of course.

Yet, she can't help but feel that hope is not lost.

Meeting Zelda's eyes, the real one and not the phantom of memory, Edelgard nods. It's a simple gesture, laced with so much meaning. Affirmation, acknowledgement, understanding, sympathy, pity, solidarity...empathy.

"Then you shall do just that," Edelgard says in a gentle yet still stern tone. It's not a command, but it's not a comment she intends to invite argument against. The Emperor lifts her chin, taking a step closer, hands at her sides.

"You will return to Hyrule, and you will finish this beast off if it is not already done, and then you will rebuild. Your people suffered a great tragedy this day, and I know you will not allow it to repeat."

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[Closed] When you can no longer run...

Wow typo'd in the first comment go me!

i didn't even notice tbh!! shhh

<3 Video should run from 3:00 to about 5:55 if the link doesn't work

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