Zelina

Melina feebly reached for the now-slumbering Tarnished. Even knowing they could not comprehend her in the sleep she had induced, she still wished for their presence. She had steeled herself for this moment, for this grand and terrible plan, but the pain that enveloped her now was almost unimaginable.

The flame of ruin consumed her, setting every nerve she had alight in a cacophony of pain. A billion needles stabbed into her limbs, and as she struggled to remain standing, to keep the flames directed to the great Erdtree, the agonising sensation only grew in intensity. She thought she should have felt some sense of relief when the tree caught fire, but even the sight of her goal being fulfilled could not break her from the agony that now consumed her.

Yet, as the pain swept across her body, her mind assaulted her with long-buried memories of her mother’s heartless glare, her cold gaze staring through flames to judge her for her pain. Melina had burned before, and the sensation was horrible then too, but to have those thoughts returned to her now after such an effort to forgive them. She had failed, she realised. She had failed to be stronger, to keep the memories out. She couldn’t take the pain, but there was no way to stop it.

Her legs gave out beneath her. She could not feel them anymore. She could not feel much of anything anymore. Were they even there, or had the flame burned them away? But Melina could not look. She didn’t want to look. She had seen it before, and the memory was at the forefront of her mind. She didn’t want to see it again. She didn’t want to remember. She wanted it to stop.

She opened her mouth to cry out, to scream, to let out some of the panicked thoughts that were eating her alive, but she could not will anything out of her dry mouth. She’d told herself she wouldn’t cry this time. She’d told herself she would be brave. She would withstand it. But now she begged to whoever would listen for the torture to end. For the pain to end. For all of it to stop.

And then, it was over.

Suddenly, the pain, the heat, the burning was all gone.

Melina felt cold. And dampness. The only warmth came from wet tears now flowing down her cheek.

Slowly, shivering and sniffing back mucus, she opened her eyes to complete darkness. She could just barely make out herself, and the dirty ground beneath her.

She found and felt her hands. They were as they had been, slender, pale, scarred. But as she felt them, she realised there was a new warmth within them, and
remembered.

The Erdtree was gone. Her body was restored. She was no longer trapped as a spirit, her left eye sealed shut, only able to conjure a corporeal form when near a site of grace. While she had not had her power over Destined Death returned to her, she was at last free again. It felt like a dream, like a delusion, but as minutes passed, she remained. She smiled, even giggled to herself, disbelief melting into elation.

She tried to stand, but she was incredibly weak, and she sank back to the ground. Her voice, hoarse from crying, could barely whisper, “Tarnished,” but no one was there to hear.

Tears began to well up again. Was she dead? Was this the afterlife she was damned to? A dark abyss, where she was left with nothing to do but contemplate her sins, powerless to free herself, doomed to relive the memory of burning to death?

The memory of the flame nearly sent her back into a panic. She forced it away from her mind.

Instead, she remembered the Tarnished. The way they would look after her, check in with her, talk to her about what they were doing. All the wondrous places they had seen together. The pain when Melina had them help kill her…

She started to cry then. No need to hide it, she reasoned. There was no one here to chastise her for it, no mother who would silently judge her, no friend that would worry about her. She brought her cloak close around her, curled up into a small ball, and let herself cry.

The sound of a horse startled Melina awake. She had not realised she’d fallen asleep in her dark prison. Yet, now, all of a sudden, it did not seem so dark.

A bright light shone into what she now recognised as a cave. The ground beneath her had indeed been dirt, and so had the ceiling, and the walls she hadn’t noticed. Small roots and rocks poked through in every direction, and drops of water fell into puddles on the floor.

Footsteps began echoing from the source of the light. Melina quickly retreated into a corner and dug out her dagger, fearfully clutching it. What would this intruder be? What horrible monster would exist in this hell, and what unspeakable things would it do to her if she could not kill it first?

But down from a small cliff dropped a young man, short and petite, with a pretty, doll-like face. His dirty blonde hair, tied behind his head, had leaves stuck in it which he didn’t seem to notice or particularly mind. He wore very basic, rugged boots and trousers beneath an extravagant blue shirt, with several leather patches secured over it for protection. Even in the dim light of the cave, his appearance was quite striking. He must be a decorated warrior of some kind, Melina reasoned.

The stranger proceeded to walk towards the rear of the cave, taking no time to scan the room. Clearly he was familiar with this place, and he seemed to be heading for something he already knew was there.

Then, at a seemingly innocuous spot in the room, he stopped and looked around at his feet intently. Melina wondered what such a man might have business with in a cave like this. Perhaps a legendary weapon, or artefact of some kind? Or perhaps a mythical foe he had come here to best.

Suddenly, the spot the visitor had been so intensely examining burst into a little cloud of colourful smoke, and in that place appeared a small creature of some kind, with a leaf in place of its face. Some foe that would make, Melina thought sarcastically. Then, to her surprise, the leaf-creature laughed.

“You found me!” it said, in a high-pitched, ethereal voice. It then held out a small golden seed to the blue-clad stranger, who took it and slipped it into his pouch without a word. “Buh-bye!” the little leaf-thing chirruped.

As the young man turned right around to leave, though, he suddenly spotted Melina crouched in the corner. Frozen with fear, she clutched her curved dagger before her. The stranger seemed to take this as hostility, and he reached for the gear on his back.

Out from behind him he pulled a great hand-and-a-half sword which gleamed brilliantly in the light. The sound of it leaving its scabbard rang through the cave, and it sent a shiver down Melina’s spine. Now she was not sure just what force she had trifled with.

“Wait,” she finally stammered out of her dry lips. “Please.”

The stranger seemed hesitant. He lowered his blade, but, perhaps having been tricked by people such as her before, he kept it at the ready.

“I- I apologise for the intrusion. I am Melina. I do not wish to harm you.”

Her introduction calmed the warrior, and he now seemed to trust her. He replaced his sword on his back, and though he did not speak a word, he seemed intent on listening to her further.

“I do not know where it is that we are,” Melina continued cautiously. “I must reach Farum Azula. My dearest friend is there, waiting for me.”

The stranger’s face then twisted in confusion.

“Do you not know of Farum Azula?”

He shook his head ‘no.’

A horrible feeling then washed through Melina’s stomach. “Traveller,” she asked slowly, “Where are we?”

Quietly, in a tone so low and so light that she could hardly hear him, the young man answered with what sounded more like a description than a name.

“Great plateau?” she repeated. “What is the true name of this place you call a great plateau?”

But to her dismay, he did not seem to understand her question. Instead, a look of horrified understanding washed across the brilliant blue of his eyes. Lowering her voice
to a grave tone, Melina asked once more, “Where are we?”

Without a word, the stranger walked towards the light, beckoning Melina to follow. He helped her climb up a small dropoff, and led her to the mouth of the cave. The sun
outside was very bright, and her eye struggled to adjust to it. But when it did, she was greeted by an incredible sight.

Beneath a warm sunrise stretched a beautiful green land steeped in quiet morning fog. Bundles of trees danced through grass fields to a melody sung by innumerable
small creatures. A great volcano ahead of her sat still in the morning breeze, with a pair of mountains - no, what looked like one mountain split down its middle - to her right.
And, looking towards it, she saw a church not far from the cliff she now shared with the stranger.

“This is…” she began, but what words could describe such a vision? Remarkable? Beautiful? Breathtaking? It all felt inadequate. This land was so full of life, so innocent, so
pristine. Not at all like the ravaged place she called home. And then, she thought of something.

“This is not the Lands Between,” she said, and the lost expression the little man returned confirmed it for her. She was not home. Her mother was gone. The Erdtree was
gone. The grand purpose she had been bound to for her entire life was now irrelevant. Everything that kept her shackled to earth was now released. A nearly intoxicating feeling
of relief, or perhaps, fear swept over her. She had her body, she had agency once more, but not in any place familiar to her. But wherever it was that she found herself that
morning, she also felt a sense of wonder, of liveliness, of freedom she’d never been allowed. And maybe, she thought, if she stayed with this strange, petite young man, she could discover what new joys awaited in the vibrant expanse before her.