An Umbral Trespass
This was a poor day for the Yiga Clan.
Mistress Bahna, the commander of the cabal who had long since settled in these alien lands in secret, moved through the cavernous and dank insides of the cave lining a mountain her troops found shelter within. Torches, hanging from holsters on the walls, lit her path through the otherwise darkness-infested environment. A Yiga as she was, unlike her clanmates' gear, she was covered in a set of armor bearing a solid-white coloration. Her mask was as red as the blood of her foes and the symbol of the eye it displayed was drawn in white as well.
Bahna was alone in her journey, if only to dwell on her thoughts by herself. She walked deeper into the cavern's bowels, intent on checking over the most valued of prizes held within its depths. Prizes that possessed the utmost importance to her magnificent design. Until that Zora had appeared and shaken everything up, her plan, the scheme she had spent over forty years plotting out and perfecting, had been going on with unparalleled smoothness.
But in one fell swoop, it all had become threatened. All those years of hard work... all those arduously long decades of readying herself for the moment of glory fate surely held for her was now on the line, but she grasped that line firmly. It was all spent for a contingency plan many of her peers, including her own father, Kohga, had called utterly unnecessary and illogical. And yet, as some certain current events could attest to, such an assumption was not to be the case.
Her thoughts coming to a close, Bahna finally approached her destination, marked by a rectangular passageway just wide enough for at least two shapes to fit through. She entered it, coming into a wide chamber. The mistress of the Yiga inhaled a deep, silent breath and gazed upon what laid before her covered eyes. The single greatest tools at her disposal, both resting safely there in the lightless environment.
On a pedestal right in the direct center of the chamber was a sphere, small enough to be able to be held in but a single hand. As seen by the patterns and glyphs wrapping around it, it was a piece of ancient Sheikah technology, but nothing more than a prototype born from the genius minds of her ancestors, from what little insight Bahna had gained from it in her studies. It was a relic of incalculable, mystic power forged from materials few could ever acquire, let alone encounter in their lifetimes. It was what she based her entire, elaborate plan upon. Too late did she find out that in the process of activating and deactivating it in the way she wished, she had unintentionally pried into other realms and pulled out their inhabitants. Whoever it may have been, they were here in this world as well, and that was, at times... troublesome.
And this puny relic of incalculable potential was not the only object of interest here. Back against the wall and resting upon a specialized copper holder protruding from it, as Bahna now observed as she peered its way, was an amulet. It was a queer trinket of fair size, just large enough to fit into the entirety of one's hand. Its design was a grim thing, resembling that of a bird's skull set in a twisted demonic leer. A dull, sickly green glow emitted from it perpetually, giving too an aura of unkempt, nameless malice. Outlined by dark and jagged metals, a multitude of strange and alien signs and shapes permeated around it. Runic in design, to look upon them too long inevitably incited a terrible soreness of the eyes.
This object was the first unintentional passenger of the orb, from all the way back when the Yiga first used the Precious Sphere to travel to this alternate dimension. Realizing how immense its incalculable, and all too obviously cursed power was from sensation alone, they were quick to take it and bind it, never laying even a single hand on it as they did so for fear of prying into the corrupted thing's true nature.
Whatever manner of item it truly was, whatever sort of insidious influence dwelt within it, the ugly amulet was currently imprisoned like some spurned piece of jewelry against that wall, upon the hooks of its holder. Its minuscule shackles were more than enough to keep an accident from freeing it. Should this tool somehow be removed from its bonds by the hands of another, however, even for the slightest fraction of a second, Bahna had the strange feeling that no one, in this world or even the next, would know just what sort of havoc could be wrought by its use. Be that as it may, this thing getting loose was the last thing she thought would be possible.
Even now, the talisman's very power was being harmlessly siphoned off into the sphere; its use imperative to its continued and safe function. Not only could it transport live beings, with the otherworldly energy provided by the mystic object instead of Sheikah magics, it could capture the essence of spirits who had passed and remained in the vicinity of its aim and somehow revive them through a process still not fully understood. The real trick—the trick Bahna had been attempting to master since the capture of this tool—was how to direct this latter function for one specific moment. And for the most part, it worked in all the ways she wanted. As for the unwanted arrival of the Zora, however...
Alas, such was the instability of the Sphere. It was a relic. A treasure, but a prototype nonetheless. One that never found refinement, for the Sheikah who had built it to begin with ended their project upon the clearly unwise decision to follow more humble lives and cast it away, along with most of their research. And while Bahna had spent most of her lifetime so far learning from it and them, there was still so much more to discover in its usage. So unimaginably much.
After staring at her prizes for a few minutes, silence surrounding her as peered their way from behind her mask, the Yiga leader made her leave. Departing from the chamber and making for the pathway back to the entrance of the cave, where her allies had set up a portion of their base of operations, Bahna walked into the upper levels of this cavernous domain. As she moved her pace began to slow, not from tire, but from active thought. The mounting pressure of it all made Bahna feel a twinge of frustration course through her mind, and when she finally became overcome by her tidal wave of ideas, she stopped in her tracks and sat down upon a nearby rock protruding from the floor. With a raised hand she pulled her mask off, revealing her pale face.
She was quite the odd-looking Sheikah. Her skin was as pallid to the point of being nearly colorless, like that of the ghosts told in bedtime tales. Her eyes, currently glued to the floor, were highlighted by a pinkish texture, and the irises at their center were as red as the blood flowing through her veins. Behind her hood was short white hair, and underneath all her gear was a body of near-supernatural thinness. It had been in such a frail, unpigmented condition since the day she was born.
If one were to get past how skeletal her outward appearance was, one might see how young she looked as well. In spite of how old she truly was, due to her Sheikah heritage—and also in no small part due to the usage of Sheikah magics—she was still young, albeit sickly and ever-weary. For most of her life she was just that; sickly. Weak. Unimpressive. For all her physical faults, she hated being thought of as nothing more than a delicate thing not meant for anything major. Through the most rigid of determination and ruthless of ambition did she get to where she was today. And that same determination and ambition was what led her to formulating her own group of loyal followers and leaving her home realm for this one. All the Yiga to serve under her command were proud warriors who shared her vision. And with their aid, it would come to pass.
Ever since she used the Sacred Orb to spy into Hyrule and witness Ganon's demise at the sword and bow of a fearless, wretched warrior, her plan, once thought foolish and mad, was now put into full effect. Yet that Zora, wherever she now dwelt, had become something of a hazard. A threat with the potential to bring ruin to it all with the knowledge she kept.
But she would overcome such a minuscule setback. One flaw in the grand design hardly meant the complete destruction of it. And by her ancestors, she would claim a final victory over-
"Mistress Bahna, are you well?" suddenly came a polite voice.
"Oh?" Bahna sighed in faint surprise as she was torn from her thoughts. She turned her head upward and spied the tall shape she recognized at once as belonging to her top captain and husband, Garo. His gear matched most of the warriors under their command, but there were enough markings upon it to distinguish him from the others. His arms were kept folded behind his back, and his posture was ever-alert. Turning her head to the floor again, Bahna slowly nodded and said, "Yes, I am quite well."
"Your tone betrays you," he rebutted, his tone playful, but still bearing traces of genuine worry.
"Hrm. It's merely my mind dwelling upon the news I've received," she mumbled. "And you know what it means as well. We must pick up the pace. Tell our engineers and architects to double their efforts of finishing our work, but also tell them to be fair in their methods."
"And I shall. Anything else?" Garo inquired next. Now facing him, Bahna thought on this with a hum, biting her lower lip before reaching for the mask by her side and placing it back over her pastel face. Garo offered a hand her way and she accepted it into hers, quickly getting back to her feet.
"Yes," she responded, keeping her view on him and looking up to his taller shape, smiling from behind her concealing piece of facewear. "Send our best agent to the pony city. Tell him to bring this Zora back to us, dead or alive. We must silence her. Even with how little she surely knows about us, we cannot risk having her aid the ponies in uncovering our hideout. For years they've known nothing. We must keep them in he dark for as long as possible."
"Of course, mistress," Garo nodded, the grin behind his own mask large and most delighted. "I'm sure this will do well to facilitate our current plight. Your judgement always proves to be so very wise, after all..."
"Flatterer," she chuckled lightly, brushing past him with an affectionate bump to the shoulder. For a few seconds Garo watched his beloved wife saunter her way further down the tunnel before going off himself and joining her on the path leading outside of the cavern.
Their conversation was at an end. As far as they could perceive, it was one kept between them, and them only. But unbeknownst to either one, someone else also heard in on it.
From back in the tomb-esque chamber, the fell amulet that rested in its back, fueling the Sphere, had heard all. Though without ears, it had listened to the echoing sounds outside well. Intrigued by what it had just learned, the etched visage of facial bone in its center lit up a slightly brighter shade of green in a fashion reminiscent of excitement, if only briefly before dying down again.
Long enough it had been trapped here. Long enough to drive a mortal mind to helpless insanity. Long enough to find nothing but blank boredom in its surroundings. It wasn't the first time it was imprisoned like this, and would not be the last. But still its sharpened, inhuman hearing worked, enough to catch the conversation going on from far away. All it caught was but the faintest of echoes from their direction. An echo detailing a creature that formulated an image sitting within its sentient, sapient mind.
And that was all it needed.
Mipha felt rather drained as the day drew to a close. For most of it, she had talked with and explained her situation to the ponies of Canterlot. They heard her out and voiced possible solutions to both her and their problems, more than she could count. Overall, things went... actually pretty well. For the shy Mipha, her trust in these intelligent equines was gained by the time the sun was lowered and the moon was raised.
All the ponies she had been introduced to, from the friends of Fluttershy, to the princesses, to every single servant she had the pleasure of meeting within this castle, had treated her with only kindness and respect. And also with questions, were she to count the constant, innocent probing of the one known as Twilight Sparkle.
While Mipha still kept her jewelry, her original, ruined outfit was voluntarily taken by the ponies to be repaired to its proper form. For now she had been given another piece to wear, and it provided much-needed comfort for her. It was a long, flowing white dress, made for ponies but tweaked in function and form a small ways to fit her better by the pony she now knew as 'Rarity'. A highly talented and creative tailor was what the Zora saw her as, and it came as no surprise to her when Rarity stated that it was not only her favored passion, but that she also owned a boutique here in Canterlot.
With night having descended, Mipha politely excused herself for the day. Without so much as her having to ask first, the two princesses who ruled over Canterlot had offered her a room to sleep in. The servant who now led her to it in the eastern section of the castle was a mare of light gray fur and pristine ware. It was a short upstairs journey before they reached a wooden door, and the mare pushed it open, revealing a pleasant, medium-sized abode. One of the more visual aspects it had was a big, but currently closed window in the back, beside a large bed.
"The princesses have taken extensive care with their magic to make sure you will feel comfortable during your stay," the pony beside Mipha said as she stared, her tone light and respectful. "Some maids have added their touch to the room as well, but with more... natural accommodations. And even should something not be to your liking, or if you require anything, just pull that string on the wall to ring a bell. A servant will come and tend to whatever need you have, Princess Mipha."
Mipha turned her head to what the pony spoke of and spotted a small wooden handle by the bed, which in turn was attached to a string extending from its base. "Thank you," she said, her head bowing a small ways in gratitude as she refocused on the mare.
"You are most welcome. May you sleep well, princess," the servant bid, bowing her head and smiling. Turning about, she left the room so her treasured guest could get some shuteye at last, closing the door behind her as she departed. When Mipha found herself alone, the first thing she did was inspect the place more thoroughly; deciding to check out what sort of architecture these sapient equines found favor in. When she eventually reached the window, she pushed it open, allowing a strong breeze to enter.
The window itself gave off quite the view, and not just of the city. The sky was dark and cloudless, leaving the stars to shine down alongside the moon without any sort of obstruction. Beautiful as they was, these stars were unfamiliar to her. The many constellations she knew by heart and once spent many a night staring up at from a river, bed of grass, or other such location near her home in Hyrule... none bore even the slightest similarity. As much as she wanted to try and make new sense of the entire thing as she had done since first arriving to this world and realizing her terrible predicament, her gazing eventually ended. Yawning, she slipped quietly into the covers, and no sooner had she done so when she noticed something fairly surprising.
They felt... wet. Cool. Not like someone had dabbed them in a bucket of water and then laid them so, but bore the likes of the gentle current of a flowing river. It was nearly like she was in one back in the Zora's Domain. Whatever sort of spell, charm or enchantment they were given, they did their job to soothe her well. A few, long minutes went by, and by their end she had fallen asleep.
Mipha's eyes seemed to open to pure blackness. An empty, blackened void, and like a leaf in a stray autumn wind, she drifted loosely about in it.
Everything around her was still. She had memory of death's cold, uncaring embrace all those years ago, and if she were to compare it to anything, that would be it. Before she found her spirit imprisoned within the Divine Beast she was supposed to pilot against the Calamity, she sensed dark nothingness awaiting her like a lifted veil.
But unlike before, she was not alone here in this cold realm betwixt worlds.
Her head lifting, she detected a presence standing before her shape, as though there were a floor to hold it. It was an upright, gaunt, alien being, hunched over, thin and gangly and admittedly wretched. It was evidently malnourished from something, or at the very least twisted into this form by some outside force. A host of bony arms, three feathered pairs of them at least, were clutching around its own body. Its upper face seemed concealed by living shadow, while the mouth, a great black beak, protruded from the inky murk. Though as dark as pitch from the distance it stood from her, it stuck out neatly from the environment by the faint aura of sickly green that outlined it.
As Mipha could only watch, unable to even blink, the figure simply stood there. Still as a statue, its audibly ragged breathing gave off the life it had. Suddenly, it began to hobble her way in a weak, limping motion. More wheezing breaths exhaled from its beaked maw, misshapen and chipped, like some diseased raven's. It was all Mipha could hope to discern of the being as it emerged further and further from the shadows. Despite her near-instinctual desire to go and help this feeble being, no matter its perturbing visage, Mipha could not move. It was almost as though she were paralyzed and floating helpless within the void that was their surroundings.
Its pace quickening, the multi-armed thing crept up to her in a rather insidious approach. Mipha's body still refused to obey her. Feelings to aid the being quickly turned to fear as it grew closer, the strained breaths becoming more like a weak, croaking growl than anything else. Now less than a foot from her, its hideous avian mouth opened. A strong, repugnant scent, a scent of both fresh and old blood, a reeking smell of something spoiled, something rotten, filled her nose. Her body convulsed, attempting to gag, yet unable to.
And yet this creature still could move. It reached but one haggard, malformed claw out and grabbed at her neck, restricting her air flow enough to force a gasp from her lips. With a single, strong pull it dragged her head down to its level, directly beside its waiting maw, so foul and loathsome. And, with but nine words delivered in an ancient voice that was as withered as a drought on the hottest day in summer, and yet also as deep as a bottomless ocean with depths so far down that no light could reach it, it spoke into her ear.
"Release me. Release me, as I have released you."
In that one instant, this blackness-consumed reality dissipated. Everything—the void, the figure, and even her sensation of helpless paralysis—faded away like dust in the wind. Then, at last, Mipha awoke.
The moment Mipha's eyes flashed open, she detected a large form looming over her own. A shout of panic was about to leave her mouth, when the feeling of a cool hoof was brought to it before she could utter a single sound.
"Shh! Shh..." it hushed, its familiar tone turning soft. Her eyes quickly adjusting, Mipha saw, with relief, that it was just Princess Luna. The alicorn quickly retracted her hoof when she saw calmness enter the Zora's amber eyes. Mipha sat up, rubbing her weary face until her view was no longer hazy.
"Luna..." she sighed, catching her breath. "It's only you. I just... experienced the most perplexing dream..."
"What you just experienced was no dream," Luna weightily spoke to the Zora. "That was a premonition. And not a natural one, either."
"Premonition? Natural?" Mipha questioned back, her tone still nebulous with tire. Placing a hand to her head and shaking away the last of her sleepiness, she looked to the alicorn in a most concerned way. "Does your kind by chance experience them frequently?"
"My sister has undergone a few in the long time that I have known her," she responded. "But what you went through... this is very disturbing. But you should not trouble yourself over it, Mipha. Whoever gave you this... I will personally discover."
"Do you think it has something to do with what has happened to me and the missing ponies?" the Zora questioned next
"I feel it does." Luna confirmed. Her horn lighting up in a dim glow, she waited for Mipha to lay back down and gently pulled her covers back over her. "Go back to sleep, young Mipha. I will see to it that the rest of your night will be filled with more pleasant thoughts."
Casting a small spell to lull her back to sleep, Mipha soon fell into a resting position and was soundly doing so once more. Her job here done for now, but with yet another queer mystery in dire need of illumination, the alicorn took one last look at the Zora before leaving her be to tend to the rest of her nightly duties.
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I don't know, but I want one. Like, badly.
I wounder what the Yiga Clan up to? What ever happened to that giant man gone to?
I love this story. It has a good concept, and is very well written.
Are you going to continue this?
Great story so far!! Keep up the good work!
It's been awhile when is this story going to continue?
9001951
Yes okay, but even if we could discuss on how she can or should use her powers, I think Lunas and maybe even Cadances powers need a limit.
I don't think she owns the brains/thoughts of her so called subjects and I always think that if there is someone who doesn't her in their dreams, then she "has" to go.
She doesn't owns them and shouldn't be allowed to just take informations out of them while digging to deep if she doesn't sees any distress.
Is this story going to continue?
Really good ! Keep going when you will feel ready !
9069475
YES.
9343329
*in caveman voice* You write. update story. *proceeds to make ape noises*
new cover pic? hmmm.... is that a sign of things to come? i can only hope so.