The Legend of Zelda: March of the Iron Army

Christine's Story

We all have our demons

One thing you need to understand, I was a child of two worlds. The world that I was born into, and the world that was born around me.

The world I was born into, it was…normal. Maybe that’s the wrong word; my world, it was…not special. We didn’t have magic. We didn’t have many species that walked and talked and formed societies. We didn’t have creatures that came from the dark and stole children away except in stories. All the things you have…it only existed in fiction for us. We had minds that could build things, understand ways the world worked in special ways…it let us build machines that served as metal horses and birds, trapped heat in our homes and cold in boxes to preserve food, to send images of ourselves across our world…but to us, this was just science. The world as we knew it was…normal.

Except for one thing. Within our planet was sealed something as abnormal as possible. A being, a…god, I guess. Something that looked upon all the ways we lived, the very fabric of reality, as tools, to make toys for his amusement. How he got into our world, how long he was there, no one knows. But he was there. When I was born, he was getting ready to escape. He did when I was on the cusp of adulthood…

My first family, the one I was born into, it’s not important to the story. By the time I was aware of the world, they were gone. I had been dropped off at an orphanage, no one knowing where I came from. I spent my life there…I probably could have been adopted, but even at a young age I didn’t want to leave the kids. The people in charge called me the ‘Little Mother’, and I was…being an orphan can be a terrible thing, and I just naturally tried to make it better. The families that looked at me, maybe they saw that, or maybe other people did, because I never got taken away from my second family. As I got older, I figured I’d age out of the system and look into taking a job at the place, to stay as best as I could with them. Look after my new brothers and sisters…

It never happened. When I was seventeen, the god broke free. Xaxargas, he called himself. He could have destroyed us all with an effort of will, destroyed our world, twisted us into slaves…but he didn’t want that. What his long imprisonment had left him with was a desire for entertainment. To him, our world was a stage to slake his boredom. So he came to every human, and he offered them a wish. Their greatest desire. None of us knew at the time that everyone in the world got them…

Not like it mattered. Xaxargas, a named he picked because it meant nothing in any language of my world, wanted to be entertained. So many wishes were the same. Wealth, power, revenge. It bored him, and instead he gave those wishers the opposite, if he didn’t just rework them into a cog in the massive machine he was building. But there were people whose wishes did interest him, and they got what they wanted…but never as is. That would be boring. Every wish came with a catch. A condition. A curse. No one got just what they wanted, because in the end, all that mattered was what Xaxargas wanted. When he was done, my world was no longer ‘normal’. It had been twisted, warped, transformed into a patchwork quilt of strangeness, the world remade in the guise of a million wishes. Humanity was fragmented, turned into other races, and the world was infested with terrible beasts and worse. For most, the knowledge of the old world was wiped away entirely, replaced with false histories and myths and origins. My world had become a storybook for Xaxargas to read, a dangerous world made even more so…

I was one of the ones who remembered. My wish was simple: I wanted whatever was needed to keep my family together. I didn’t think of how I worded it…I try not to beat myself up over that fact, with just what put me on the spot…but that’s what I asked for. The power to keep my family together. I got it, great power…

Except my curse was I would not begin to understand how to use it until they were all gone. I had the power, but not the knowledge. The only way to gain it would be to lose why I wanted it in the first place. I didn’t understand that then…I just thought I’d been passed over as boring. My family had wishes too, but that’s not important…what was, at the time, was even with the world so changed, we were still together. It seemed so amazing back then. A grand adventure…

Then they started dying. My brothers, my sisters…some so brave, so smart, so strong…but none of it mattered. My curse hovered over all of them, and claimed them. We did everything we could, we tried to avoid trouble…but the poison was among them. Me. They never realized…and eventually, they were all gone. It was just me and Jay, the last survivor, my last brother, and I tried so hard to keep him alive…but then I met Ash. That night, Jay died. Ash fought for him, for me…it wasn’t enough. He died. My second family was gone. Because of me. To entertain him.

…I know what it’s like. To feel like you should be dead, already feel dead, yet still alive and having to experience the pain of it. To lose people for the most injust, cruel reasons, to see what was special to you taken away and tossed aside…you wonder how you can go on. I don’t have a magic answer. All I have…

I still think about them, every day. But if I’d just given up…then more than my family would be dead. So many more. So please. Believe someone who’s been where you are. The world might seem to be over, but it’s not…there’s always a chance to find something new. Not to replace what you had, but to ensure that…they know that you kept living. That you didn’t let those who took them take you as well. Don’t give them that. You may not know what to do with your life…but don’t give it to the circumstances that make you want to give it up. It insults their memory.

It…doesn’t fix anything.

Comments

Chaltab

I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.