Unlike any pain Sheik's ever felt before, it hurts, his eyes watering as this festering hatred fermented for millennia sears his flesh-- but pain can be endured, and fortunately, enduring happens to be one of his specialties. Images from his vision of the Princess' Champion's arm being consumed by vile darkness flicker across his mind's eye, and as he hisses through clenched teeth, he lifts his leg and stomps on the Blight's shoulder where it lays dazed on the ground. He expects to find some satisfaction in returning a modicum of his pain, but instead he realizes what's beneath it.
He's being drained.
It knows what he is.
That fact should strike fear in the heart of the girl who fled the castle that day. That is, after all, the one thing she absolutely had to avoid at all costs ever since that triangle appeared on the back of her hand. Terror should crash over her like a wave, urging her to run from this place as fast as she can, for the sake of the name she sacrificed upon the altar of survival all those years ago. It should, but it doesn't.
Because that name doesn't just belong to her.]
... You haven't changed at all.
[Zelda's ancestor sneers at the creature wearing her face as she lifts her free hand, golden light coalescing around her palm. The knife was useless, so it was discarded, and so there's no reason not to do the same for the disguise that no longer serves its purpose. Not when there's something so much more important on the line. The radiance dancing between her fingers shimmers and stretches, brightening with her desperate desire to protect the girl - her family - trapped in that crystal--]
But I am never letting you take anything else from me!
[--and, with the Arrow of Light in hand, she tears at the Malice clinging to her so hungrily, before kicking the Blight away with disgust.]
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Unlike any pain Sheik's ever felt before, it hurts, his eyes watering as this festering hatred fermented for millennia sears his flesh-- but pain can be endured, and fortunately, enduring happens to be one of his specialties. Images from his vision of the Princess' Champion's arm being consumed by vile darkness flicker across his mind's eye, and as he hisses through clenched teeth, he lifts his leg and stomps on the Blight's shoulder where it lays dazed on the ground. He expects to find some satisfaction in returning a modicum of his pain, but instead he realizes what's beneath it.
He's being drained.
It knows what he is.
That fact should strike fear in the heart of the girl who fled the castle that day. That is, after all, the one thing she absolutely had to avoid at all costs ever since that triangle appeared on the back of her hand. Terror should crash over her like a wave, urging her to run from this place as fast as she can, for the sake of the name she sacrificed upon the altar of survival all those years ago. It should, but it doesn't.
Because that name doesn't just belong to her.]
... You haven't changed at all.
[Zelda's ancestor sneers at the creature wearing her face as she lifts her free hand, golden light coalescing around her palm. The knife was useless, so it was discarded, and so there's no reason not to do the same for the disguise that no longer serves its purpose. Not when there's something so much more important on the line. The radiance dancing between her fingers shimmers and stretches, brightening with her desperate desire to protect the girl - her family - trapped in that crystal--]
But I am never letting you take anything else from me!
[--and, with the Arrow of Light in hand, she tears at the Malice clinging to her so hungrily, before kicking the Blight away with disgust.]