The desert night is short. From the Gerudo Desert to the castle town, Midna rode on Link's back. Zelda couldn't stand, so Link carried her in his arms. Nocta followed silently behind. No one spoke. Sand danced in the wind, and in the distance came a sound like the herald of a sandstorm. But it didn't matter to the three of them. There was one reason they had to hurry—Zelda's face was growing paler by the moment. When they reached Hyrule Castle, the sky had already turned a deep navy blue. The palace guards rushed forward, and their faces changed the moment they saw Princess Zelda. As Zelda was carried into the inner chambers, Midna stood rooted to the spot, watching her go. (She spent all her power for me.) That fact kept spinning endlessly in her chest. --- Zelda's bedroom was quiet. Moonlight streamed through a narrow window in the stone wall. Golden hair spread across white sheets, and Zelda slept with a peaceful expression. She was unconscious from exhaustion, but she didn't look like she was suffering. That, somehow, made Midna's chest tighten all the more. Midna sat down in the chair by the pillow. She placed her small hands on her lap and stared at Zelda's sleeping face. (How stupid.) That was all she could think. No other words would come. Wise, noble, serene. Perfect as the princess of Hyrule Kingdom. And yet she loved Link. She loved the same person Midna did. And still, she had saved her. She had chosen Midna's life over her own love. (How can she do something like that?) Midna couldn't understand it. And yet she kept watching Zelda's sleeping face, unable to understand. She couldn't bring herself to hate her. She never could have, from the very beginning. That was what made it hurt all the more. Then, slowly, Zelda's eyelids opened. Emerald green eyes gazed hazily at the ceiling. It took a few seconds for her focus to sharpen—and the moment she recognized Midna's face, Zelda smiled faintly. "[gentle]……Midna," "[sarcastic]Finally awake. Waiting all night by your rival's bedside—what exactly is my position supposed to be?" What came out was sarcasm. Not her true feelings. But she couldn't find any other way to say it right now. Zelda gave a wry smile. "[gentle]……I'm sorry for worrying you," "[sad]This isn't about worry or anything like that," Midna looked down slightly. She stared at the small hands in her lap. The pattern now glowed with a calm, pale blue light. It had nearly shattered in the desert, had grasped Link's hand, and yet it was still here. "[crying]You're an idiot. Saving your rival—what's the point? Throwing away your own love—what's supposed to be left?" It was a laugh mixed with tears. She was trying to laugh, but she was crying. Her voice trembled. Zelda slowly moved her hand across the sheets. A thin, white hand reached toward Midna's small one. "[gentle]……As long as you can be happy, that's all that matters," Those words were quiet. There was no hesitation in them. She wasn't pretending. Midna could tell—she meant it, truly meant it, which was why she could say it. (That's unfair.) She screamed it silently in her heart. How was she supposed to hate someone who could say something like that? How could she ever give up? Midna gently took Zelda's thin hand in both of hers. Small hands holding an even more delicate hand. "[crying]We're the worst love triangle there is," She laughed, tears streaming down her face. Zelda laughed too. Her eyes were slightly red. "[gentle]The very worst, indeed," Neither of them said they loved the same person. They didn't need to. They already knew. But in this moment, the wall that had stood between them as rivals—seemed to have vanished somewhere. --- The castle corridors swayed with torches even in the middle of the night, casting orange shadows on the stone walls. Link stood with his back against the wall, staring at one point in the corridor. He wasn't really looking at anything in particular. He was just standing there. Then came footsteps. Silver hair swayed as it approached from deeper in the corridor. It was Nocta. Her pale blue hair tips caught the torchlight and trembled. Eyes of different colors on each side—silver on the left, deep red on the right—looked straight at Link. Link pushed himself away from the wall. Nocta stopped five paces away. And then—she sat down in seiza on the spot. On the stone floor of the corridor, she knelt in formal seiza. Then she lowered her head, pressing her forehead to the ground. A complete bow of apology. Link didn't move. "[crying]……I bound Midna with a shadow name," Nocta's voice was absorbed into the floor. "[crying]I just wanted to protect her, really. My way was the worst. I know that," A long silence followed. Only the sound of the torches crackling could be heard. "[crying]When she was about to disappear, I didn't know how to undo it. I—I almost killed her," Her voice completely broke. The carefree mask was gone. It was the true crying voice of a sixteen-year-old girl. Link looked down at Nocta for a while. Then he took a step forward. He knelt down to meet her at eye level. And then—without a word, he placed his hand on her head. Just once, a gentle touch. There were no words. It wasn't a response to an apology. It wasn't a declaration of forgiveness. It was simply the fact of "I am here." Nocta lifted her face. Tears spilled from her mismatched eyes—silver and red. She placed her hands on the floor and collapsed into sobs. She cried out loud, tears streaming down her face. From the shadow of the corridor's corner, Midna watched the entire scene. Leaning against a pillar, she watched Nocta cry and break down. There was still anger—there was still anger. But—in that twilight space, she remembered that voice calling her name over and over. She had heard it clearly, that voice with the carefree mask completely shattered. Her emotions couldn't be sorted out easily. Midna turned her eyes away from Nocta and looked at the night sky outside the window. Because Hyrule's night was the night of the light world, there were many stars. Twilight had no stars. Lumina's lights—floating orbs of illumination—took the place of night. (My world doesn't have this.) She thought such things. --- Morning came. The departure to the Gerudo Desert was set for dawn. There was still distance to cover to Mirror Lis's Altar—the circular sanctuary deep in the desert where the shadow mirror was enshrined. Zelda's recovery had been confirmed. She wasn't fully recovered yet, but she could stand. When Midna stepped outside the castle, the sky was beginning to turn orange from the eastern edge. She stood alone, facing toward the desert entrance. The morning air was cold, and morning dew glimmered faintly on the castle's stone pavement. Midna watched her own breath turn white. Footsteps approached. She turned around. It was Link. He was ready to depart, his pack on his back. The same taciturn, earnest expression as always. He stood beside Midna and looked at the eastern sky in the same way. The two of them watched the sky together. Orange spread across it. The color changed moment by moment. Midna watched that color and suddenly realized something. (It's like Twilight.) The sky of the shadow world was always wrapped in a twilight-like dimness. Orange and purple mingled together, there was no sun, and yet it was somehow warm. The color of the eastern sky now resembled it. Something tightened in her chest. "……Hey, you," The words came out. Quieter than she expected. Link turned his gaze toward Midna. "[sad]Once I go back, we won't be able to see each other anymore," Link's feet stopped. "[sad]I'm going to destroy the shadow mirror. Once I do, the two worlds will never be able to cross paths again. I'll return to Twilight, and you'll stay here—that's all there is to it," She had known. She'd known from the beginning. Before the journey even started, this ending was already decided. Destroying the shadow mirror was what Midna had to do as the princess of Twilight, and there was no doubt about that. And yet now, her voice was shaking. Midna didn't look at Link. She kept her eyes on the eastern sky and tried to continue speaking. "[crying]But still, I—I feel for you——" Her throat closed up. The words wouldn't come. Because she knew her fate was to return. Because the question of what good it did to fall in love was raging in her chest. Then warmth came. Link slowly reached out and gently wrapped his hands around Midna's small body. Her small, small body. In both his palms, careful not to drop her. There were no words. But that warmth was all the words. (Ah.) Midna couldn't move. Her eyes grew hot. Tears spilled over, streaming down her face. She didn't try to hold them back. She couldn't hold them back. Everything she had endured—at Zelda's bedside, when she saw Nocta's bow of apology—came pouring out now. Her fate to return wouldn't change. Destroying the mirror wouldn't change. But in this moment, she knew one thing for certain: this warmth was real. From a sand dune a little distance from the desert entrance, Nocta watched from the corner of her eye. Pretending not to watch, but watching nonetheless. Her silver hair swayed in the morning breeze. She pressed her hand to her chest. What filled it wasn't quite jealousy. It was something else—a complex, but genuine emotion. The bond of childhood friends, even if twisted, hadn't disappeared. From a high window in the castle, Zelda quietly gazed toward the desert entrance. Her golden hair gleamed in the morning sun. She gently wiped her eyes with her fingertips. She thought no one was watching. The queen's mask, the princess's nobility—for just this one moment, they were gone. Only the quiet sorrow of a single woman fell in the shadow of the window frame. Then came the call to depart. Four people began walking toward the desert. Zelda, Link, Midna, Nocta. Each as they were. Not everything was resolved. Emotions weren't sorted out. And yet they walked. Then. Laughter came from the shadows. A formless laugh. A distorted voice that came from nowhere and went nowhere. "[cold]When you reach the shadow mirror—despair awaits you, Your Highness," Zant. The voice of the man who had usurped the throne of Twilight made the desert air tremble. Midna's pattern glowed intensely for just a moment. It wasn't anger. It wasn't fear. —It was resolve. The desert's morning sun glowed orange. A color like Twilight's sky, but this was the world of light. Midna took a step forward into that light.