“Live! Live!” He looked over at Merivic, anger fueling his heart. He had built these things. Why wouldn’t they work? He looked over an army of hundreds, no, 1000s of golems. They ranged in make from stone to steel, and iron and clay, an army Ganon built for this purpose would now not obey his command. Though, he may not need them, he had with raw destructive force had already razed this Crimson City to the ground. He had with only minor exertion of effort the coven of Cold One guards, placed here by his brother to keep Ganon away from his own army. Ganon knew, if he needed, he could kill the Crimson Prince, Tyros and Tatyana all by himself, but keeping the kingdom in line after he had done so would require forces to be spread through Hyrule, acting as a symbol of his power. He would need to induce loyalty through fear. He had also considered killing them all, all of Hyrule. That would bring order. But he would try this first.
“My patience has grown thin with you, Merivic. Tell me why they won’t work. Bring them to my command,” he ordered the wizard. The mage who, had always seemed to have a plan for everything, now had a face that clearly showed signs of confusion and doubt.
“I built these golems to only be able to hear and respond to your commands. They were linked to your soul. We did this at your request so that only you could control so powerful of an army. My theory would be that whatever . . . happened . . . to you in the temple of the demon dragon may have altered your soul enough that the golems no longer recognize the link,” Merivic hesitating replied.
“You do not know? I thought you knew everything,” Ganon condescended. “Patience and failures are no longer things I have time for. This is a riddle you must solve, and that you must solve quickly. Stay here. Fix them. I and the drow will continue further west. That is where he and she are supposed to be.”
Lord Tyros watched Ganon and watched Merivic speak from a considerable difference. With his gift of immortality thousands of years ago came greatly increased his senses, including his sense of hearing. He stayed a great enough distance away that even with his enhanced hearing; he could barely discern the conversation. He dared not move closer, though, for fear of being discovered. Ganon had . . . changed, not unlike the way the Crimson Prince had. But Ganon’s change was readily apparent and manifest in his physical form. He now, finally, looked a worthy enemy of Lord Tyros. Such a worthy opponent he had not fought in centuries. He would engage him now. With all that he was he longed to engage this adversary in combat. As if every fiber of himself were meant to fight and destroy such a vile a monster. Or, at least, it had been that way long ago. Now, he needed to save her even more than he needed to destroy him. She was all that ever mattered to Lord Tyros.
The Crimson Prince awoke, saddened by the fact that his dreams of Tatyana had ended.
He tried again to close his eyes, and shut out the world and return to the dream he’d had, lying with Tatyana. But the dream wouldn’t return. He reluctantly opened his eyes and, most unexpectedly, saw her. Perhaps this was still a dream. It was like many of the dreams he had of her. Standing in the starlight, supremely beautiful, pristine, like a statue cut out of flawless marble. A sleeveless red dress hung from her shoulders to the floor, clinging to her body as tightly as he would like to. But it was the sad, painful eyes that drew his attention most and confirmed that it was not a dream. In his dreams he was happy, and wanted to be with him still, before he had shamed himself in some unknown way. He sprung to his feet, and then fell to his knees, bowing before her. Yet he could not cast his eyes to the floor. It had been too long since he’d looked upon her and his eyes drank her image the way an elf that had traveled across the lightening sworn's desert drank water to live.
“You please me greatly with your presence, my Lady Velvet. Lately it has only been in my dreams that I have seen you; that, I’ve felt you. You’ve cut my heart open, and, I bleed only my love for you. Your every breath is command I dutifully follow. I see sadness haunting your eyes. I shall chase it away, as I would any other enemy. Who disturbs you? Tell me what I can do and I will do it... Tell me what I should be and shall be it. Tell me what I can give and I shall give it”
With the sadness of some thousand great losses, her angelic gaze radiated upon him. Her porcelain fingers caressed the lowest line of her stomach. Then her honey-dipped velvet voice spoke. It spoke as the chorus of all the gods singing. As if the once great forest itself had a voice, and she said, “You have already given too much. I am carrying your child. It is the child of a monster, of a man who burns his own forest and eats his own people. I now must carry your bastard within me, whom I fear may be as great a monster as you. You have forced to choose between that and a mother’s love. Tyros have come for me. I’m leaving.”
“No! All I’ve ever done, I’ve done for you. For love, the greatest of all the virtues. Our child will be heir to the Crimson Throne, and carry the staff of kings. You must not leave. You cannot leave. My whole soul belongs to you. I have only tried to be what I thought you wanted me to be,” he sobbed pitifully at her feet.
Tatyana’s eyes widened for the briefest moment, and then dimmed again just as quickly. Her words became daggers.
“Lord Tyros says Ganondorf is coming, and that he’s changed. He has become a vile, wretched monster, like his brother. He plans to destroy you. He’ll be here soon. You should prepare. The two of you deserve each other,” she spat.
And then she was gone.
The Crimson Prince soaked up his misery. He did not know how much time had passed before he heard the alarms.
Lord Tyros waited. He stood just within the entry of the tower. It was an impressive sight. The Crimson Prince had built a fitting tribute to what he and Tatyana had done to this land -- graves, as far as the eye could see lining up all those who had died in her name. He sometimes, if only for a moment, wished he had been in one of those graves. Then, at least, it would be over. He, like those in the graves, could have paid the ultimate price to prove he loved her. And maybe just for a moment, she would understand that, and return it. But his wished did not matter. Only her safety mattered.
The alarms sounded. Lord Ganon and his Drow had arrived. How could they have moved so quickly? How did I not outpace them? What new and bizarre magic are they using? He didn’t feel fear; he was far too numb for that. But he watched with a kind of admiration as the small fist of dark-skinned eleven warriors blended attacks of magic and sword to make progress through the ranks and assault the fortress.
Even the immortal guards would have had difficulty keeping up with the surprise attack and precision. But, they were not here; Tyros had sent them ahead to secure the path. He expected Ganon’s forces to be coming through the mountains and wanted to put as much of a barrier between them and Tatyana as possible. It was a gamble that did not pay off, now he was all that stood between these forces and Tatyana. The few elves still loyal to the Crimson Prince fought as best they could but were not match for the faster and more ruthless drow. Perhaps he would earn that grave after all.
His Katana blades leapt to his hands ringing with the vibration of the swords leaving their sheathes. In one fluid motion he sliced the closest one in half. Before its body hit the ground he spun taking the legs off another and the head off a third. A silver arrow aimed at his heart passes through him, harmlessly as he turned to mist. The arrow struck another drow behind him.
Solidifying his body he was instantly attacked. A silver blade came in an overhead chop. It was strong but too wide; Lord Tyros quickly parried and impaled the assaulting drow in the lower chest with his other blade. Spinning the sword holding the parried blade he caused the draw’s fingers to lose grip dropping its sword. Tyros drove the other katana into the high chest of his enemy and simultaneously kicked him center chest propelling the dead drow 10 feet off his blades and into a small group of advancing attackers.
“Enough, I knew it would come to this.” The deeper power driven voice spoke from behind the group of advancing drow. Ganon continued, “My men have the day. None of my brother’s forces are left to stand, but you don’t fight for them, or my brother, you fight for her. Where is she?”
Lord Tyros smiled and quickly said, “She has already left. You notice no ‘cold ones’ here don’t you. I sent them away. They are north, most likely have already made the pass and fled Hyrule. She is beyond your reach now.”
“Then I will have to settle for killing you. It needs to be done anyway.”
Fire raged and flew from Ganon’s mouth engulfing where Tyros stood. His armor blocked the magic of the attack though he could still feel the heat. He sprung to the air soaring above Ganon and behind him. He swung with commitment and precision. The blow struck cracking the green scales and spraying blood into the air. Then Ganon was gone. He was 10 feet to the left, invisible but Tyros could hear his heart still. His heart did not beat like an elves' there was a deep slow darkness to the sound. Then Tyros heard it, a second beat in almost unison with the first. The momentary distraction caused Tyros to take a blow to the face from some clawed hand.
Tyros stumbled back feeling the wound burn. He could still hear him approaching and ducked as another blow came. Tyros tackled the invisible Ganon and wrestled him to the ground. But before their momentum could even stop Ganon was gone . . . behind him. Tyros spun and lifted from the ground. A worthy opponent.
Tyros felt fire run along his bones though nothing touched his armor. It began to eat his flesh and boil his insides. He was aware of screaming and then blackness.
-------------------------------------
The Crimson Prince watched from his window as Tyros fought and died to defend the tower. His bravery and loyalty born of love will never be forgotten. His brother Mandrake Ganondorf stood in front of him floating in the air. But this was not his brother; it was a twisted version of him barely recognizable. “Brother,” the Crimson prince could hear the love and desperation in his own voice. Had he come to save him? Was he worth saving? He realized he was wrong, he had fought this whole war and lost Hyrule for a woman that would never love him.
“Brother.” Was the only part of the response he heard before the flames consumed him. He was glad to be able to feel anything again, before he felt nothing ever again.
Tatyana waited an hour after they left before she came out. Without Tyros, she was scared. For the first time since he had been with her, she saw him beaten. She was alone – almost.
She glided to the Crimson Princes body and looked down. It was truly over, all the love he had shown her, the joy she felt as he embraced her. That a man so good could love one so as I am. She knelt down and whispered with tenderness, “There is one more gift you can give me.” She placed her fingers through the burnt flesh to grab the sternum and ripped it free. There she found his heart and lifting it from his body she placed it in a small glass jar.
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