Categories > Games > Zelda > The Black Mist


by nulambda 0 reviews

Chapter XII of The Black Mist, in which our heroine sees a phantom of Saria and begins to unearth memories and emotions that are not her own.

Category: Zelda - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Fantasy,Horror - Characters: Link - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2013-03-13 - 2402 words - Complete

The Black Mist
-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

DISCLAIMER: The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.


A faint breeze blew through the town as Mireille sat atop a nearby wall lost in thought. It had been two days since the attack, and an eerie silence had befallen the area surrounding the power plant. Though the air was clear, she could still see large portions of the town covered in mist. Her thoughts turned towards the survivors.

The town of Brume was not safe. With the vault door having been collapsed, she felt uncertain about their safety. Her eyes drifted towards her hands and she found herself gazing at them as though they were separate entities from herself. Mireille's concern extended beyond the survivors—she feared for herself. Countless questions waded into her mind as she continued to reflect upon the events that lead her to this fallen city.

I hate not knowing anything... I feel so lost....

She recalled the faces of everyone who watched her walk out of her room and towards the only exit. Many were still unsure of what to make of her. As she gazed down at her gauntlet-covered hands, she didn't know what to think herself. This time was different; their gazes showed less hostility and more acceptance to her presence. Though she had managed to finally gain their trust, she found herself at a standstill.

I want to go home....

Mireille's gaze shifted to the surrounding buildings that encompassed the area. They were barren and vacant shadows of the homes and business that once thrived here. Many parts of the town had fallen into disrepair in the short time the mist had eclipsed the town. No matter how the transformed woman looked at it, this place was no longer fit for habitation by anything now, much less anyone.

...But these people... I can't just leave them like this....

She closed her eyes as feelings of anguish manifested themselves. Her heart felt torn—torn between returning home to rid herself of the force that had transformed her, and seeing to the continued safety of the remaining survivors. As she struggled to come to a decision on her course of action, she felt a presence in the air. Her eyes snapped open as she frantically looked around her.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a silhouette of a figure in the distance. Mireille jumped off of the wall and walked closer. It was then that she spotted a figure of a young girl. Though her body was transparent, she could make out her features, among them being her green hair, blue eyes, and green clothes. As she gazed at the apparition before her, it dawned on her: she had seen this girl before- where, she could not recall....

Before Mireille could react, the girl turned around and faded into nothing. As the woman attempted to understand what went on, images flashed in her mind of a familiar boy in green playing an instrument with the girl. It was then that Mireille recognized the girl from the vision that had gripped her before her arrival at the Thunderbird Hotel nearly a week ago. Along with recognition came a name... a name drawn from a distant, seemingly ancient memory....


The name escaped her mouth unwillingly, as if she were speaking to a dear friend. As she came to her senses, feelings of dread burst forth. Mireille squeezed her eyes shut and fell onto her knees. The mark on her left hand shone a golden light as she struggled to comprehend what had just occurred.

How... how do I know that name? Why do I feel like I know that girl? I've never met anyone like that in my life!

She opened her eyes and gazed at her hands once more, staring at them as if they were separate entities from herself.

No... please no....

Unable to contain her emotions any longer, she let out a horrified scream.


Dr. Phillips sat in front of a desk, going through a small pile of papers. The room itself was small—barely large enough to fit her desk in. Faded white walls decorated the room, as did the portions of chipped paint on their surfaces. Concrete tiles covered the floor while a potted plant occupied a nearby corner.

Furrowing her eyebrows, the researcher felt her frustration grow. In front of her were a list of available supplies... and the numbers were far from encouraging. Her eyes glanced over the numbers once again.

There is now way we can be this low on food. If we don't find something soon, we will run out of food within days....

Before she could do anything else, a frantic knock tore the scientist from her thoughts. She glanced up through the window in the door and her glasses, only to see the figure of Mireille on the other side. Her eyes, reddened and watery, gazed at Dr. Phillips in a desperate manner. She returned a concerned gaze towards the young woman.

"Come in!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Mireille ran into the room, whimpering. She clung to the researcher's shoulders, unable to contain her emotions any longer. Once more, Mireille felt afraid. Something within her manifested itself out there, and she did not know what it was. Not wanting her fears to be made a reality, she pleaded to the researcher.

"Doc, you have to help me! I can't take it any longer!"

"What's wrong, Mireille? Is your shoulder acting up again?"

Mireille shook her head no. Dr. Phillips breathed a sigh of relief before returning the girl a concerned look. The expression on the teenager's face was frantic, as though some catastrophic event had occurred in her brief venture outside the shelter and the power plant beyond. While the older woman was thankful she was unharmed, she could not help but feel a tinge of concern towards Mireille's behavior.

"You... you said you researched paranormal stuff, right?"

Dr. Phillips frowned, annoyed at Mireille's choice of words. Parapsychology was a science that was not the most respected. Despite the efforts of her fellow scientists to understand the nature of paranormal phenomena, the scientific community at large considered the field a joke. Though she knew the girl meant no harm, it was a terminology that she had come to hate.

"...I wouldn't call it just 'stuff', but yes, I have."

"You remember what I told you before? About what happened to me at that party?"

"Yes, I do recall our conversation about that."

"...It's getting worse, Doc...." Mireille's tears flowed freely down her face as her emotions exploded. "There... there is something I didn't tell you when we first met. When I was still out in the woods, before I arrived here, I had some kind of vision."

"A vision...?"

"I don't know... it felt like a memory of sorts... anyway, in this vision, I ran into this girl. She looked no older than ten. Wore nothing but green—even her hair was the same color. She was sitting on a tree stump in front of some kind of ruin, playing a song on an instrument. When I approached her, she said to me, 'I've been waiting for you, Link!' It was like she was talking to someone else...."

Dr. Phillips blinked, unsure of what to make of her story. She had heard many stories, but this was certainly new. Part of her wondered if the girl had suffered a hallucination of some form, while another part of her wondered if it was connected to whatever forces were at work with her. She raised her eyebrow at the girl as she finished her story.

"...What are you saying?"

Mireille closed her eyes as she struggled to calm herself. Even now, she could feel a strange familiarity to the girl she saw. Her mind reeled in denial, unable to accept these feelings and thoughts that wandered into her mind. Unable to make sense of what had occurred, she found herself at a loss of words to the researcher's question.

"I don't know... I don't know what I'm saying right now. I just got back from outside, and... I think I saw her ghost."

"Who's ghost?"


Dr. Phillips returned a gravely concerned expression. It was one thing for someone to tell a story such as this, but it was another to utter strange names. Her mind could only think of one possible cause for this. Unwilling to upset Mireille any further, she probed the girl for further information.

"Who is Saria?"

"I don't know! I don't know who Saria is, but I know that's that girl's name! She feels like... some sort of friend I knew growing up... yet I've never seen her or met anyone like that in my entire life!"

The researcher's eyes widened as Mireille became more upset. She placed the documents down on the desk and focused her attention on the young woman before her. It was clear that whatever she had seen outside had deeply disturbed her. It was not the first time she had hear claims of ghost sightings, but to actually know the name of the spirit without any prior knowledge was another matter. She did not know how Mireille obtained this information, but like the rest of the powers she wielded, the young woman wanted nothing more than to distance herself from it.

"What are you saying, Mireille? You are not making any sense!"

"Doc... I think it's getting worse."

Closing her eyes, Mireille could nothing to prevent herself from trembling. Ever since the night of the party, she felt as though she were being consumed by another entity. Now, she feared that whatever had changed her was on the verge of finishing what it started. The young woman wanted nothing more than to live in peace, and felt as though she were losing the battle for her own survival.

"What do you mean?"

"That thing... that thing inside me... is trying to take over my mind... please, Doc... you have to help me... I don't want this...."

Mireille staggered backwards as she wept, her voice loud and hysterical. Dr. Phillips got up from her desk and climbed over it. She walked over to where the distraught young woman wept and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I have no idea what is at work with you. I have witnessed many forms of possession, but what is happening to you... well, it's not like anything I have ever seen before. As it is, I have no way of helping you to identify what is causing you to have these visions. Without the proper tools and testing equipment, I cannot even determine if you truly have become possessed."

"...Are you saying you can't help me?"

"I am just as much in the dark about the forces at work with you as you appear to be. As for me being unable to help you... I can do little more than offer counsel and advice in regards to coping with your condition for now. With that said...."

Dr. Phillips moved in front of Mireille and held out her hand. She pulled the young woman back onto her feet and placed her hands on Mireille's shoulders. A reassuring smile appeared on her face as she looked into the girl's eyes. Mireille felt herself calm down as the doctor offered her advice.

"Have you breathing techiques?"

Mireille lowered her head to the ground. Her grandfather had introduced her to the concept of meditation. Though she had taken well to it when she was younger, she had long since given up. In the face of her worsening condition, she found herself desperate for a means of repressing whatever force had manifested within her during her time outside.

"I... I used to do that, but I gave up on it some years ago... do you think that could help?"

"At the very least, it could help you clear your head. I know you are scared, Mireille... but you can't let this thing beat you. You are the master of your being, not this thing within you. Despite what has happened to you, you have braved a hell no man could begin to fathom. Use that inner strength Mireille... and you will find the answers you seek."

"But Doc, I'm—"

"—now, I want you to take a few days to think about your situation a bit more and what you plan to do," Dr. Phillips interrupted.

A sad expression reappeared on Mireille's face. She remained confused by the doctor's words. Quotes by famous writers were not going to solve her problem, and she wondered what use this information would be to her. Unsatisfied with the researcher's response, she tried to broach the issue once more.


"Go on, now. We can discuss this later."

A sigh escaped Mireille's lips as she moved towards the door. This meeting had not been nearly as productive as the young girl had hoped. In her attempts to find a cure for her condition, she was once again left with more questions than answers. As her eyes traced the green tunic clothing her body, she looked back at Dr. Phillips with a sheepish expression on her face.

"One last thing, Doc...."

"Yes, Mireille?"

"I... I don't mean to impose, but... would you happen to have a spare set of clothes? Something with a hood on it?"

Dr. Phillips let out a rueful smile. Her request was small, and her bloodied clothing was not suitable for anyone. The outside, however, was dangerous, and the both of them knew that. She recalled a small clothing store several blocks away from where they were located and made a mental note of it.

"I will see what I can find."

"...Thanks, Doc."

As Mireille stepped out of the room, both Dr. Phillips and Mireille found themselves gazing up at the ceiling, uncertain of the future that awaited them. The researcher returned to her paperwork as she continued to plan. For the first time, there was a flicker of hope. Only time would tell if that hope would last... or be consumed by the darkness that had taken root in the town of Brume.
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