Linktober Day 9
Deity
*sneezes after downing coffee* Well irl stuff got in the way so I'm way behind my original schedule for these and for Linktober but here we go with another arguably short one, fuelled purely by self indulgence, headcanons, spite against my linguist essays that kept me from keeping to schedule, severe sleep deprivation, a shout out to the Ender Lilies soundtrack and Majora's Mask soundtrack, and Nintendo for not clarifying anything about the lore so I'm snatching what I can and making it my own lol. Look, when you fíxate so much on details the Zelda team doesn't elaborate on you have to fill in the gaps with what you can.
As always can be read as romantic or platonic, technically in a LU context but not explicitly in it by itself.
The Lord of the Mountain liked hearing people sing.
In a way, it wasn’t a surprise, Hylia and the Golden Three each had their ballads and symphonies and minuets, each splendid and with cuts of their divinity in it, Farore was fond of lightning and forest alive minuets, and you could swear Farosh sparked just a bit brighter when one would him the beginnings of the Minuet of the Forest near their spring, Din was fond of boleros, fiery and alive and howling with the echo of flame touching earth that made a shine run through Dinraal’s scales, Nayru, in contrast, was much fonder of blizzard and river quiet serenades, the songs of contemplation at first snow ringing clear when Naydra curled around it’s spring, content to be free of Malice.
And of course Hylia had her ballads and lullabies, perfectly fitting to her display of divinity, of honey days and vast bird like wings, of ambered summers to come and to pass and dazzling solar storms of starlight and sunlight sparking through the human form of her descendants and heroes. So in a way, you weren’t surprised at all that the Lord of the Mountain – Satori, with a familiar touch of londsleite divinity, the hunt of the woodland beasts and diamondscar adoration for the Hero of the Wilds, similar in glory to the Light Spirits petrichor and vermeil fondness for the Hero of the Twilight – liked to listen to people sing. What you were surprised was how it attempted to follow along, it’s head across your lap the second you sat down in the clearing, a gentle hum on back of it’s throat, an owl’s cry and a cicada’s humming and faintly, chirring purring as presses it’s faces into your hands, a gentle request for petting.
It was adorable, even with the faint notes of the chill of clear spring water on winter and the livewire feeling of magic, like holding your hand too close to a flame but not quite touching it.
A low chuckle brushes against the back of your mind, a feeling like biting on ice, the prowl of a wild beast and the build up of lightning and light used to create his blade, the amused affection of a warrior reconvening with their brother in arms, you think you see the bone ivory of the Deity’s hair on the side of your vision, though you know he’s not physically there, ‘He likes you.’
You hum, gently patting behind it’s ears, pushing through the chill, gracefully not mentioning the burning with a smile at the mythic being’s faint chirring, birdsong and the wind through cherry blossoms that sparkle like rose quartz, “Well I quite like him too, I can see where it’s gentleness comes from.”
The ghost of a touch over your hair, the caress of lightning striking over your skin and the hair on the back of your neck pricking up and the crisp cold of winter, the chill of the ending and the flame of a new dawn, of new days, the phantom of magnolias and spring water on your tongue. The fragrance of pine, daffodils and blood soaked lilies on ashen fields on your senses, gentle and careful, marking but not claiming, ‘Only because it’s you, beloved. It’s not something easily given.’
You sigh, shakily composing yourself, you let yourself relax into the phantom sensation. Of hopes and dreams and healed suffering, of the divinity of hunt turned into protection and lightning given form, of tangled timelines and crystalized memories, “I know. It does not change my opinion, either way.”
To be the subject of a god’s care and regard was dangerous, after all. For the human and the deity in question, you know the stories from your world well, of the effects of Hylia on First and Sky, of Twilight and the personification of the Twilight Realm and the spirits of his land, of Wild and clawing from death’s embrace into that of the wilderness.
Knew how the fact the Fierce Deity’s mere proximity causing pain on those who changed him into hunting for hunt’s sake into protection for the sake of someone else cut deeper than even the ever encroaching entropy all beings must one day face. It was no wonder the Song of Healing was his creation, to want to ease the burden.
You gladly grant him some peace, in turn, even if it wasn’t much. It’s the least you can do, for always having his ways of watching over your heroes.
“Join me? We can make a duet.”
You feel more than see him shift, ephemeral, fleeting, gentle against the edges of your existence, as foreign to Hyrule as your own, sparking over your spine as you feel ozone and rust on your teeth. Satori is humming again to match the rumble of thunder in the man’s voice, the heralding of songs of war and elegies for the dead, ‘Of course, though I’m afraid I do not know many songs, besides…’
“It’s alright,”, you smile faintly, there’s a white ocarina in his hands, as he leans, a spectre against your side, “I’ll teach you some of my own, though you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t remember all the lyrics.”
‘It would be my honor to learn.’
You think he smiles, from the fluttering of something ancient and long forgotten against your side.
You sing to Satori and the Chain, a small respite of familiar and forgotten tunes, the Lord of the Mountain hums along. The Fierce Deity’s song cutting through any nightmares that may ail your heroes for another night.
When the dawn of a new day comes, the feeling of divinity against your skin feels just a bit more obvious, sinking into every crack of your being like a shroud, falling over your boys like a veil, reflecting the breath of eternity over Hyrule.
(First gives you a look that’s half exasperation, half understanding. Sky pointedly sticks to your side as Time looks you over, markings deep with vibrant color. You shrug with a helpless smile as you feel the lightest brushes of Hylia’s fond days of gold and starlit summers days against the Lord of the Mountains warm, luminous affection and the Fierce Deity’s smug, but content lonsdaleite smile.)
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A warning: ahead is a very very long essay-slash-ramble about Salyra, a character from Crown of Exile by @ramonag-if . I have a lot of thoughts about her complexities as a character as well as the tragedies of her relationship with the MC, so I figured I should just put them all into words before I explode. If you haven't read CoE yet, please do — you won't regret it!! Especially if you're a huge fan of complicated, "okay wow this hurts" family angst and heart melting romance. 🥹✨✨
Salyra is someone who possesses the self-created tragedy of a hero. When Salyra believes in something, she believes in it with her whole heart, and she'll stop at nothing to fight for it. She's... the hero that many adore, but hurts those closest to her, directly or indirectly. Like her family, who've heard nary a word from her for all those years, not knowing if she was alive or dead. Like the MC.
Salyra's sacrificed countless things for her cause, and those sacrifices sometimes involved the hearts of those who loved her.
She's willful. Willful and determined. Great qualities for a rebellion's leader/figure of inspiration; not so much for when you're trying to patch up a relationship with your child who had long thought you dead, and had suffered for it.
It's like she thinks that if she pushes enough, if she shows MC the depths of her sincerity, it'll make MC accept her after all those years. It doesn't. For certain MCs, anyway. It only serves to push them further away.
Right, this is going to swerve into more specific territory. I'll be going into a little more detail on my MC's relationship with Salyra. The relationship between Salyra and my MC just... fascinates me.
Salyra is the high priestess, adored by the people of Ishari. MC... is MC. They were discriminated, mistreated, and followed with gazes of spite and distrust in Cyre because of their Ishari blood. Once MC returned to Ishari, they were greeted with — surprise, surprise — even more gazes of distrust and suspicion! Partly because of their blood guard parentage, partly because of their loyalty to the exiled prince, etc etc.
You stare at Rana, suddenly conflicted with anger and betrayal. You never wanted a sister, you only wanted a mother. Rana stares at you, suddenly gripping onto Mama's arm and twisting behind her, as if afraid to look up at you. A look of disappointment flashes through Mama's eyes, but it is directed at you, not Rana.
It is a look you remembered Mama using when anyone would upset you as a child and now, you find yourself bearing the full force of her frown. You would laugh were it not so painful to think about the life you were robbed while Mama evidently moved on.
"Avriel," Mama murmurs. "You are my son and I know that I have not always been there for you, but I would like to remedy that. We cannot gain back what we have lost, but we have time now to find each other again."
"I need to go," Mama murmurs. "Rana needs me, Avriel. So does Danzor."
For a moment, you catch sight of your mother, but she does not see you. After returning to the temple, she has washed and changed, the priestesses who had been chanting earlier, now crowding around her.
Anu called Mama the High Priestess and you cannot help but wonder just how long she has been in Ishari.
It's these. These scenes. Salyra has built a life in Ishari, a life without the MC. A loving family, a figure loved by the people... this is all that MC knows of who Salyra is now. The Salyra presented to him is a hero. A golden existence, a light in the dark, fearless leader of the rebellion.
(They need you? What about me, Mama? Do I not need you as well?)
(Those who had looked at you with suspicion now look at her with respectful, even admiring eyes. Salyra has a life here. But you — you are just the same. You are an outsider still, whether in Cyre or Ishari.)
Avriel is genuine and soft hearted, but he has a spine of unbending steel. He is proud. All those years mourning Salyra, grieving for her, only to find her alive and well in Ishari and with a family that she so clearly (and here we have a peek into Avriel's pain induced bitter thoughts, because honestly, that sad and angry child from so long ago never truly left him) prioritizes over him.
It's like his life has been rendered into a bitter joke.
What does Salyra want from him? Does she expect him to come and go as she pleases, there when she wants him and gone when she doesn't? Is he expected to wait in the wings as Salyra tends to her new family, only playing the part of a loving son when her eyes turn to him once more? Salyra, his mama. Salyra, now the head priestess, looked upon with respect by the very people who had looked at him with such suspicion.
(^ Above is Avriel's current thought process. Yes, he's a real mess. Irus is having a hell of a time soothing him, as the usual gentle-eyed man is currently very much like a wounded cat with its claws out and teeth bared, eyes set in a glacial glint.)
And honestly, those words might be quite unfair to Salyra. We do not know what she's experienced. Not yet. But are the words left spoken and unspoken between mother and child always fair? I think not. Salyra's expectations of MC could be called unfair as well, depending on the MC you're playing.
I just. I just find this so tragic. Salyra is a deeply complex character. Her greatest strengths are also her deepest flaws. Ironic, how the qualities that made her a hero could be the very thing that chills the heart of her child. I remember you said that Salyra will wise up on how to treat the MC in a future chapter, but wow. The tragedy of Salyra being her own undoing and the detoriation of the relationship between lauded mother and outcast child is just. Wow.
Also. leaving this here because Irus + Nearly Feral with Rage MC is everything:
You nearly laugh, the bitter rage that has been festering beneath your skin like a swarm of wasps, threatens to erupt from your skin. Prince Irus settles a hand on your shoulder and instantly, you are looking at him, noting the concern in his gaze. All at once, the rage leaves you, until you can finally breathe once more.
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The fact that Id, even if they don't realize it; despite their and the MCs past and their history together.... Still tries to bring MC back from the void they've put themselves in. The sorrow, the hole. It's no way to live and I think Id doing this says a lot of about their character and the type of friend(or even enemy) that they are. Despite how they feel about MC or their past, I think there is care there.. Even if it's in the form of an insult.. I may be a bit biased because they're my favorite but 🤷♀️
I know! *sobs*
Even though Id can absolutely blame their current shape and their sorrow on MC, they recognize that MC was dealt a bad batch of cards, and that really, underneath all that rancid regret, there is still the person they know and love. Id is the type of person to shoulder the responsibility of getting MC back on their feet, and thinks about it every second of their day, even though they know it might be a lost cause.
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