Disclaimer: Nothing related to Zelda, including Zelda itself, is mine. I mourn the loss of something I never had.
A/N: This piece is one of my personal favorites. I hope you enjoy it as much, and please review!
(kur'ij) n. The quality or state of mind or spirit enabling one to face danger or hardship with confidence and resolution.
He was wind.
It quickened his steps, lending grace to his movements so that he would be able to perform the unending dance. It protected him, positioning him just right so that his enemy's blows would glance off his body and not bury deeply in unarmored flesh. It shrieked when his sword sliced through the air, a high piercing note that whispered to his foes that he had come and he would leave and they would stay forevermore. It carried him effortlessly from battle to battle and wrapped him in a cocoon of non-feeling, allowing him to continue until it all had been done and then it would let him collapse on the ground and give him air to breathe.
He was always moving, always changing, never the same man from moment to moment. He could be strong and terrible, battering away at countless enemies with all the force of a gale. And he could be kind and gentle, his touches as light and soft and warm as the caresses of a summer breeze.
Yes, the Hero was Courage.
But even wind can cease to blow.
(wiz'dəm) n. Understanding of what is true, right, or lasting.
She was ice.
It coated her in armor, melding to her skin and mimicking her motions as she paced in patient, knowing circles for seven long years. It glazed her eyes, leaving them impassive and expressionless and forcing others to guess at her motives or to come to believe that she harbored no emotion at all. It edged her words, transforming them into something unforeseen and inexplicable, and she would be obeyed, regardless of consequences. It trapped her to her land and her people and her destiny, locking her feet to the ground and her fate to her decisions, and it did not care what ultimately happened to her.
She was glacial and permanent, changing only slowly and only if given the right situation. She could be hard and unyielding, adhering to her plan and never letting go, and if others were hurt or changed irrevocably along the way, so be it. And she could be smooth and slippery, altering her plot at a moment's notice and darting beyond reach, something evasive that pleaded to be understood but could not be.
Yes, the Princess was Wisdom.
But even ice can melt to nothing.
(pou'ər) n. Strength or force exerted or capable of being exerted.
He was fire.
It blazed in his eyes, warning that those close enough to discern its existence would not be in the presence of something they could conquer or destroy. It raced through his veins, heating him from the inside out with strength unimaginable and lust unquenchable. It ripped through his mind and left him blind to everything else and screamed and begged to be used just one more time and then again. It stripped away all his control, leaving him a cruel puppet that acted only to satisfy the whims of the force in his soul and devouring any lingering compassion that may have prevented total conquest.
He was insatiable and devastating, tearing through his enemies without distinction or mercy. He could be explosive and unstoppable, bearing his mighty fists upon all those who dared to question or defy. And he could be quiet and unassuming, simmering below the surface as he bided his time for victory before he burst forth in an awful storm that engulfed everything and everyone.
Yes, the Evil King was Power.
But even fire can be extinguished.