Between two cities [Great]

[Malon]

For clearness: Part of the below described events happen before or during Carmelita’s last post!

Dinner time came around and things went almost as smooth as could be. Almost because Sera had recieved a beating from one of Snake's thugs after Malon had not put in enough fruit into breakfast - yet another instance of the twisted perversion of solidarity which these people imposed on their prisoners -, and Malon had been very angry at herself for that. That minute where she had met the strange figure, when Sera had told her that she had spaced out for a bit. Because of that hallucination she had not finished her work and run out of time. Her only consolation was that Carmelita's vitamins had strengthened them both and Sera had endured the beating better than she would have a week ago. That, and the knowledge of what she was going to do very soon.

Sera and she shot each other a glance as they met by the cupboard with spices. It was time. Nobody else knew of their plan, nobody suspected a thing. The vegetables and spices that they added looked like any other except that they were in the far back. Malon cut the valuable leaves and handed most to Sera. Together with one of the spices, they would create a potent but delayed soporific - that was going in the main course for the bandits. The leaves that she kept went into the rich soup that Snake would have. She mixed it with another spice that brought out the soporific effect, but with this other spice, it would be less potent and last less long, but it would also take effect faster. That was what she needed for her job.

Soon the guard slammed their spear against the wall. "Time's runnin' out. You ready to serve?"

They dared not look at each other, but Sera and the others nodded at the guard. Malon, wearing her bandana again, put the food on a tray and walked past him as confidently as she could. He didn't stop her. Nobody did, though they glanced her way as she navigated the tunnels to Snake's quarters. Whether they were looking at her or at the food, she didn't know, nor did she want to know.

"Come in", a voice came through the crude wooden door when the guard - the same one that had beaten Sera this morning - saw Malon coming and knocked. He too eyeballed her as she walked into the little cave, then he closed the door behind her. She was alone with the disfigured woman who was going through what appeared to be letters, without looking up. Right next to her was a knife whose blade shimmered in the candlelight. "Well? What are ya waitin' for? I'm hungry over here!" she snarled. "And I hope for your friend that this meal's better than what you did this morning."

"I made sure that it would satisfy you", Malon promised. She set the tray down. “For today’s dinner I have made you a miso soup with smoked bacon strips for a start, the main course is cod fillet with a deep-fried coating and an accompaniment of potatoes with whipped cream, and dessert is baked apple with cinnamon.”

“You sure raided my storage for this one”, remarked Snake as she took a spoon and began to eat the soup. “Mmmh, at least you made good use of the ingredients. This is good.”

Malon withdrew a little, pretending to wait for Snake to finish eating to take the tray back, and watched her eat spoonful after spoonful. When she was nearly finished, her movements became sluggish and her spoon missed the bowl and hit the table. “What...” She mumbled. The herbs were taking effect. She nearly fell forwards but kept herself from dropping onto the table and food with her arms. She was pale.

“Is everything okay, Miss Snake?” Malon asked. “Should I get help?”

“No, I... I...” she mumbled, then lost her grip and fell off to the side. Malon was with her before she could hit the ground, catching her by her shoulders and easing her onto the ground, on her back. Snake’s eyes widened. Malon had reacted far too fast and correctly given the situation – and she was supposed to be scared of her. In a second, she had understood... but it was too late. She struggled to act but could not move, while Malon stepped over to the back of the room and pulled a knife with sheath and a set of keys from a cupboard. “You…!”
 
If only looks could kill, Malon thought. When she turned away from the cupboard, another Malon stood next to Snake, except that she looked older and… well, slightly different. Her skin was a lot darker and her hair was of light orange color instead of the orange-brownish that Malon had. That was another illusion. Snake did not notice her even though she stood right by her. She attached the sheath to her belt and drew the knife as she came closer.
 
“You could hurt her”, she said. “You could stab her where it won’t kill her on the spot. She would suffer before she dies. Slowly.”
 
“I won’t”, Malon replied. Snake could not do a thing as she placed the knife and, with a motion as routined as killing one of the cows that had gotten incurably sick, slit her throat open. She had no time to suffer before the light disappeared from her eyes. “She wasn’t nice, but she does not deserve a painful death.” She passed a hand over her eyes, closing them, then cut a curl of her hair. “Who are you?”
 
“You don’t remember me?” the woman asked while playing with a strand of her hair, smiling. Malon noticed that her ears were not quite as pointy as a Hylian’s.
 
“You’re a Gerudo woman.”
 
“Correct.” Her smile widened a bit.
 
“I’ve never seen a Gerudo. They’ve never come to the ranch, nor…” She was interrupted when the woman dismissingly waved a hand at her.
 
“Surely you would not forget the first face you’ve seen in your life, Malon?”
 
“... you’re my mother?”
 
“No, I’m just a hallucination of your mother.This is your mind’s way of dealing with what is happening to you right now.”
 
“... and what is that?”
 
“Do you know the story of the descendants of the chosen?”
 
“That legend about how the individuals chosen by the Triforce keep reincarnating when darkness threatens to take the land. The Hero of Time and his aide, the Keeper of Light.”
 
“That is correct. But they are not the only ones. Others chosen by the Triforce reincarnate, time and time again throughout the generations, and most have some relationship to the Hero of Time or the Keeper of Light. You know Impa, the Shiekah caretaker of the princess Zelda?”
 
“Of course. She’s personally reviewed our milk orders on more than one occasion when we visited Hyrule castle.”
 
“She is one such person. And you are another.” The woman sat down on the chair that Snake had sat on. Her feet went straight through the body’s chest, like those of a spirit. It was the only thing that broke the feeling that she was real. “In most cases this just means that you look very much like some person who lived hundreds or thousands of years ago. But there is a rare occurence, known as the Awakening of a Hero. When this happens, the memories of the past generations flood the current incarnation’s mind. Sometimes only small bits of those memories remain, like certain skills and fragmented memories. You however got the full program. The shock and distress you were put under when you were brought to this crapsack place… that was what shook you awake.”
 
“Wait, so you’re saying…” Malon rubbed her temples, trying to gather her thoughts. “... that I now have multiple past Malons sharing their memories with me?”
 
“You could call it this way. Have you not noticed how expertly well you just slit Snake’s throat even though you only did it once before, to poor Betty who had fallen ill shortly after giving birth to a calf?”
 
“I saw dad do it!” Malon defended herself, but she realized how right it was.
 
“And why did you take a curl of hair from Snake?”
 
“... I… uh…”
 
“I’ll tell you why… because Malon the seventh had a Skinwalker as a Sire.” The illusion put in a break as if to give Malon time to ask what a Skinwalker was, but when Malon remained quiet she spoke again. “Skinwalkers are shapeshifters… able to take on the appearance of other people, animals, even objects. They are not tied to one body, to one ‘skin’. They are also not to be confused with Skinstealers, the violent, martial tribe of Skinwalkers known for stealing their victims’ appearances to infiltrate their opponents’ homes and camps for assassinations. No, Skinwalkers were a rather peaceful tribe. Your Sire, and I say Sire because Skinwalkers are neither man nor woman, really, fell in love with a Hylian woman and took on a shape to approach her. Though he told her about his true nature after a while she still loved him, and a few years later Malon the 7th was born. To this day a very small amount of Skinwalker blood runs in the veins of the Malons, their predecessors and eventual descendants.”
 
“This doesn’t answer the question that you asked me…”
 
“Of course. Well, because there is so little Skinwalker blood in you, you need a catalyst of some sort to create yourself a new skin with. This practice is known as Skinweaving, and it was practiced by the Skinwalkers to craft items that would allow them to shift without having to concentrate as much. Granted, you can only take on a specific appearance using a skinweaved skin, but it is rather quite practical. Perhaps you will eventually be able to freely skinwalk, but let’s start with the basics here. You took the locket to weave a form of Snake with.”
 
“Right… but what about the knife skills? Did my Skinweav- I mean, Skinst- no. SkinWALKER Sire have those?”
 
“Ah, no…” Again the illusion played with her hair. “That is owed to the black sheep of your lineage, Malon the 13th. She was a hired blade… a pretty damn good assassin. She killed the High Priestess of the Gerudos who was guarded by eight bodyguards, without ever getting caught.”
 
Malon shuddered at the thought. “Did her personality…”
 
“... bleed into you? Somewhat. She was really good at using her Skinwalker powers, and a bloodthirsty one. You experienced that recently, didn’t you?”
 
She thought back to the encounter of the illusion when she had been cooking, and to the occasional dark, bloodthirsty thoughts that had crossed her mind. She nodded.
 
“The good news is, this passes. As the memories of your ancestry flood your mind, their personalities brush yours and leave traces, but these are not permanent. You can however draw on them when you need to. For instance, I’d recommend that you try to tap into her character now. You want to eliminate a few more bandits, right?”
 
“... no. I want them turned in to justice, not slaughtered like lambs. Is there anyone in my lineage who knows how to knock them out without killing them?” she asked while her fingers began to work on their own. Threads came from her fingertips, fine as strands of hair, and with great precision and speed they weaved and formed into a white oval mask in Malon’s hands, with the curl of Snake’s hair worked into it. It had red marks on its white surface, and black lines depicting a stylised version of Snake’s disfiguring condition which had given her her nickname.
 
“Yes, but your mind could not process this much information at once. Let it ‘digest’ Malon-13’s memories first. You’re barely finished with processing Malon-6’s memories, and-”
 
“Alright, just explain this to me later. I’ll just have to make do with what I have.” She inhaled, preparing herself for what she was about to do, then closed her eyes and put the mask on.
 
 
A few minutes later, Snake emerged from her room and the guard straightened his posture. “Ma’am, there have been odd sounds coming from the back, towards Four-Eyes’s room, but I didn’t want to leave my post.”
 
“I’ll go check it out, I need to pay a visit to Four-Eyes anyway. You guard my door.” She bared her teeth. “That stupid girl tried to stab me while I was eating. I knocked her out and tied her up, so I can deal with her later… pity that she’s such a good cook, or I’d rip the bandana off of her head and strangulate her friend with it for doing that.” She let the mental picture sink in a moment, then continued. “Don’t think she’s gonna escape, but guard the door, just in case.” She leant close. “I don’t need to point out what I’ll cut off if I catch you trying to sneak into my room, do I?”
 
The guard gulped. “Of course not, ma’am.”
 
“Good. Did you get your dinner by the way?”
 
“Yes, twenty minutes ago.”
 
“Alright, then stay here until I come back. It won’t be long.” She walked down the corridor, with Snake’s characteristic strut, deeper into the cave network.
 
Malon had trouble with her impression, though the guard seemed to buy it. How the hell could Snake keep this annoyed face up all the time? Her grimace dropped and she pulled out the metal bar that she had stolen from Snake’s stash. Quickly now.
 
The prisoner room was empty, only an unconscious guard was to be found… so Carmelita and Sera had made their move? Great! She ran back to the kitchen. She had thought of grabbing a bite of the meal she had prepared for Snake - only the soup was poisoned, the rest was okay - but here was where her backpack with her other belongings within were hidden. When she came in though, she spotted another bandit leaning over the kettle, stirring a ladle inside. When Malon cleared her throat loudly, he spun around.
 
“What are you doing here?”
 
“I’m, uh… I didn’t get a ration. I was getting my…” The bandit sputtered. The lie was written all over his face. He was starting to turn beet red.
 
“Right. Don’t dally then.” She pretended to walk past him, but when he, visibly relieved that he wasn’t sacked, began to stir again, her metal bar hit him square in the back of the head, knocking him out good. She dragged him into Snake’s storage room and retrieved her belongings, then locked the door and headed back out. Now her only concern was that Carmelita, stealthed, would find her and knock her out before she had a chance to explain herself. But she could not risk removing the mask either, if she ran into a Silverhand.

Now it was time to find the others and to knock out the remaining bandits, then make an escape and alert some sort of authority.