08| Course of Action

Daemos paced back and forth, up and down the aisles of bookshelves. Any and all people in the archives had scattered like Dedenne when he and Incineroar entered, leaving him alone in the spacious area as usual. He'd come to the archives thinking it would help him cool off, but he was sadly mistaken. His anger didn't lessen. It only seemed to grow.

Not only had he not been able to summon the Triforce, but the Holders had somehow escaped. And worse, it was like they had vanished into thin air.

The king let out a cry of frustration, slamming his fist into a row of books. He could feel the power of Din swell within him against his will, dulling the pain he otherwise would have felt inflicting the blow.

Why... why? "Why do you deny me my one wish, Hylia?" he exclaimed aloud, again smashing his fist into the bookcase. This time an almost transparent wave of red-tinged gold light spread out from his hand when it made contact with the tomes. He noticed it and snatched his hand away from the shelf. Twelve years later, and he still couldn't control the magic the Triforce of Power gave him. But that was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

Incineroar gave Daemos a questioning growl, cautiously reaching out a paw towards him. Daemos lightly smacked it away. Normally a gesture of this sort would have enraged Incineroar, but both she and Daemos knew she wouldn't harm him.

"Please leave me for a moment. I wish to be alone," Daemos muttered. Incineroar nodded respectfully and made herself scarce, vanishing somewhere into the archives.

   For a second Daemos finally thought he was alone, letting out a sigh, but the second was fleeting as he then sensed another presence behind him. He didn't need to look to see who it was.

   "What is it, Dragmire?" he asked slowly.

"My apologies, Your Majesty. I don't wish to bother you, but—"

"But what?" Daemos whirled around and glared at his general, his anger flaring once again. "I'm sure whatever you want to say will improve my mood, won't it?"

Ganondorf held up his hands. "Your Majesty, please calm down!"

Daemos paid no attention. He was just getting started. "Twelve years, Dragmire! It has been twelve years since you told me you knew of the Holder of Courage's whereabouts and we failed to retrieve him! We finally have him, and we lose him in a week!"

"That wasn't mine, nor any of my women's faults," Ganondorf said, giving the king a sincere look. "And that is for both occasions."

Daemos shook his head. "The vai was hard enough to find, but at least you didn't lose her when you first found her like you had the voe!"

"But that first incident had been an accident." Ganondorf tried to maintain a calm expression and tone, unlike Daemos. It was like putting fire and ice next to one another.

"An accident, you say? Then I truly do not wish to know what you don't think is an accident," Daemos scoffed. "Lives were lost that night! Innocent blood was spilled when things could have been talked through peace—!"

"I know that!" Ganondorf interjected, his tone rife with grief. "My sister's life was among those lost, but you never seem to acknowledge that!" His expression became one of desperation. "I've expressed them before, and I'll do so again. I give you my most sincere apologies for that night, Your Majesty!" he exclaimed. "I am sorry!"

Daemos stopped. How dare he interrupt me! His marked hand clenched into a fist, but he froze when he saw the shocked look on Ganondorf's face. His heart staggered. What was he doing? The haze of fury that clogged his mind thinned. It wasn't by much, but it was enough so that he could think coherently.

"Y-you're right," he said faintly. "It's been over a decade, and in that time I've barely acknowledged Rija's death, even though she was one of my best captains, even though she was your sister..." He covered his face, laughing weakly. "I'm terrible, aren't I?"

Ganondorf put his hands on Daemos' shoulders, grasping them in a tight yet comforting hold. "No, you aren't terrible. Don't you dare say that about yourself. You have every excuse to be upset, and I apologize for being selfish and making this about me and my sister."

Hearing that made Daemos feel even worse. It was he who was being selfish. "I'm so sorry, Dragmire," he apologized while shrinking away, which caused Ganondorf to let go of him. "I just don't know what's wrong with me." Rarely now was he not angry or irritated in some way. The rouge emotions were just another unfortunate thing to add to his mountain of woes.

"No, you don't need to apologize," Ganondorf said.

"I-I just can't take it anymore..." Daemos muttered. He leaned against a bookshelf, his head in his hands. "All I want to do is change things for the better. Why am I being punished for just wanting to be a good king?"

For once, seemingly, Ganondorf didn't have a response.

"So much work for a nonexistent result." Daemos' volume began rising again. "What am I saying? Even if the Triforce did form, who is to say my subjects would thank me for wishing away their problems? No, they would most likely take advantage of that as well!"

"They may, but there is no way of knowing until you make your wish," Ganondorf said. "Until then, we should focus on re-capturing the Holders."

Daemos hated how that sounded. "Capture," it was like they were wild Pokémon. He took a deep breath, calming and steadying himself before he spoke again. "Yes, you're right. We need to retrieve them as soon as possible. Dragmire, send as many vai and Pokémon as you can spare to search the city and surrounding areas. We have no idea where they could have gone, but it cannot have been too far."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I'll take my leave now, if you may."

A thought sprang to Daemos' mind. "Wait a moment. Dragmire, before you leave, may I ask you something?" The general stopped and turned back around, prompting Daemos to continue. "One of the guards stationed in the dungeons informed me that you had 'punished' the Holder of Courage, so much so that a healer had to be sent down. Is this information true?"

"There's no use in lying to you, so yes," Ganondorf admitted. "I simply cannot stand seeing you be so blatantly disrespected and insulted." His fists clenched. "Also, just seeing him reminds me of..." he trailed off, sighing.

"I know. However, you should try to see things from a different point of view." Silence. "Well?" Daemos prompted.

"I refuse to respond, because I know you wouldn't appreciate what I want to say," Ganondorf said plainly. "Is that all you wish to say? Or may I go?"

"No, there is one more thing." He fixed Ganondorf with a hard stare. "When the Holders are found, make sure they're brought back unharmed. If I find out this isn't the case, I cannot be as merciful as I was today. I am still your king, and in turn your superior." It was difficult for him to say that.

Ganondorf nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty."

As the general exited, Daemos watched on grimly. The great door creaked shut, and he sighed. "Do you think I was too lenient?" he asked aloud.

Incineroar peered out from behind the shelf she was hiding behind. She gave the king an unsure look, the expression unexpectedly softening her harsh features, before shaking her head.

"Is that really true? You always try to agree with me, don't you? Going along with what I say..." Daemos managed the smallest of smiles. "Who would you follow if I weren't around? But I suppose I could say the same for our dear Dragmire, yes?" he said knowingly. The big cat let out a quiet snicker, which lifted Daemos' spirits by the slightest.

Although he tended not to show it, Daemos cared about Ganondorf more than the latter could believe. If he weren't the king and Ganondorf his general, then things would surely be different between them. Daemos couldn't afford to admit that though, for both his and Ganondorf's sakes.

Daemos turned, going deeper into the archives. His feet naturally brought him to a stop when he was beside a wall with no bookcases. He looked upon the portraits of him and his ancestors, a heaviness in his chest. His gaze lingered woefully on his mother's portrait. The likeness was so uncanny, Daemos could have sworn he saw those oil-painted, silver eyes blink. Hylia, he wished she were still here.

"The winds were blowing from the west today, Mother," he said quietly. "So where is my good fortune?"

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