Who: Zelda & Trevelyan What: Random encounter in the pasta aisle - then doom prophecies When: Today Where: Grocery store Rating/Warnings: Relatively low Status: Complete!
Decisions, decisions. Angel hair or bowtie? Marinara or alfredo? Grocery shopping was so much easier when a list was compiled after a deep and thorough investigation of her fridge and pantry but, alas, she didn’t have much time for that anymore - no one did with how they were all busy beavers of varying degrees under their roof. Besides, out of the three of them? Zelda was probably the best suited to come back with legitimate food that wasn’t just white cheddar popcorn, or the frozen taquitos Impa would insist living on.
Nope, she’d bring home actual ingredients to cook with - something homemade with leftovers that’d last them eons, and she also planned to gather the required components for making Midna’s most favorite creampuffs. This princess didn’t bake as often as she used to, but it was soothing and reminiscent of the diner she worked at before the Earth was ripped open, unleashing hell’s finest agents on them. It was back completely remodeled; she made sure to donate funds (considering the destruction wasn’t anyone’s fault), but she wasn’t around for the creampuff creations. Zelda missed it.
Sad nostalgia pushed to the side, she raked her the mental list she formed on the way here - pasta, check. Sauce could be replaced by something that wasn’t in a glass bottle, so she placed that back on the shelf. Next would probably be the cheese and heavy cream, so she pulled her shopping cart back and - oops!
“Ah, I’m sorry,” she blankly apologized, her shoulder brushing against someone else’s. Hitting grocery aisle traffic was common, usually people just went their separate ways and minded their own business. No foul. No elongated tales oversharing their life stories.
Except -
There was a couple seconds of being completely frozen, crystalline eyes hazing over in a foggy white. It’d been awhile, almost too long, since something like this hit her but a chill ripped up her spine, the sight of emerald wisps and swirling clouds, the shrieks of non-human things. Faces that belonged in nightmares, terrors and fears, the shuddering sensation of some kind of magic - a hand? With something, something powerful, something on that palm.
It didn’t last long (it never did, it was always flashes and glimpses of things), and when it was over the rush of air hitting her lungs was a gasp. Sharp, painful, but her reflexes were quick and her hands went to grab that person’s left arm.
Something on that palm -
“Um, excuse me?”
The person Zelda stopped was Max - call it fate, call it destiny, call it completely unrelated to anything at all and simply just a guy in a grocery store, but it was definitely something. He lived on his own, in the renovated Dutch colonial, so that meant he also had to cook on his own too - and he wasn’t going to resort to takeout, not every night. Sometimes it was convenient, when he had sessions that went late and the notes he took afterward by flying fingers over the work laptop’s keyboard also kept him in his office for awhile. But most of the time? Trevelyan would rather reheat something he had in the freezer, something he made on the weekend to last throughout the week.
And, alright, maybe the ingredients in his cart right now - things like dark brown sugar and Worcestershire sauce - would eventually come together to make something beefy, cheesy, and delicious that he’d maybe leave with Revy, at her apartment. Not to mention if Max didn’t feed Nasir he’d eat Taco Bell far more than was necessary.
Yet, the blonde woman bumping into him shattered his attention, tearing it from mundane tasks and tinny 80s music playing over the speakers in the store. It wasn’t even so much the jostling, it was how alarmed she looked. It was that she grabbed his left arm - the arm he dreamed of losing. “Are you okay?” Max asked worriedly, stopping abruptly, and sort of flailing to help steady her. In case she was about to faint.
Goddesses. This had to be the most awkward encounter in existence itself, but Zelda couldn’t simply walk away as if nothing happened - not after what she saw, what she felt, and it was the Hellmouth all over again. This time in another domain; in the heavens themselves, that would split and unleash things not meant for this plane of existence. It was happening again, but with someone else and in a different way. Full circle, the repeat of history itself.
“Hi,” she breathed out in an expelled sigh, sheepish and clearly embarrassed but, no worries, stranger. She wasn’t about to collapse. “I - I’m so, so sorry. I don’t usually stop people in the middle of a grocery store aisle and have a drawn out conversation, I really don’t.” Who did that? “It’s just - can I see your hand? This one, your left one.”
And maybe the two of them should scoot to the side of the aisle to cease the shopping traffic, because this might take a minute. Then she could somehow, someway segue into explaining that she was gifted (or cursed) with the power of prophecy, and he was a trigger for something.
Something cataclysmic.
“Oh, no, I don’t either - stop people in grocery stores for conversations, that is,” Max also clarified, agreeing with the unspoken sentiment that it was odd. He didn’t need recommendations, he’d done his research, he knew what fucking noodles he wanted - thank you very much.
But this was just something different. Moving his cart to the side, sort of near the wheat pastas and gluten-free ones, basically the kinds that were rarely sold, he knew that a complete stranger wasn’t asking to examine him simply for her own health. Obviously there was a purpose to this. “Here - “ Carefully, he extended his hand, palm up. There was nothing there now, but he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was a herd of stampeding druffalo, gaining speed and about to crush his hopes that perhaps he’d managed to avoid the worst of what he dreamed of seeping over into this world. “Like this?” he asked, trying not to have his fingers tremble or twitch.
Points to the man for not speeding off for her sudden outburst, and alarming urge to talk to him. Perhaps he had an idea of what this was? No, it wasn’t a possibility she’d rule out considering their location. Nothing on his palm seemed like it’d lead to what she saw - it was unmarred, not even a mark. “Like this,” she confirmed. Zelda carefully took his hand into hers just to be sure, but.
Nothing. There was nothing. Yet.
“I’m sorry.” It was the hundredth apology she uttered, surely. “I’m Zelda. I can…see things, things that happen in the future.” Saying it outloud really made her sound like some kind of madwoman, but she was taking a leap of faith. If he didn’t believe her, fine. At least she did something. “Visions, if you will. I can’t control them, but everything I’ve seen has always come to be. Does this sound crazy to you?”
Small steps to the peak of the point, before she let him know that the skies would be ripped apart and things would come out. It wasn’t Hell, she didn’t get that fiery feel from it - but it was some kind of realm, something shaped by thoughts and dreams and emotions. It’s what her gut said.
Honestly, in Orange County, it wasn’t the weirdest thing someone could ask him - and Zelda wasn’t giving off vibes that she’d pull a knife on him in a public place. Mostly Max was just curious about where all this was going. For him, standing there in the aisle, it was like he’d been sucked into a vortex while she looked at his palm - because he knew what this was, he knew. All other sounds, any distractions, anything outside his line of sight and focus - it all completely fell away. Nothing but white noise, buzzing there.
He swallowed thickly. “It doesn’t sound crazy,” Trevelyan shook his head. “That’s one type of magic I haven’t mastered, but - “ A deep breath was taken, fingers flexing. The other hand wrapped around the handle of his cart, going white-knuckled. “Let’s just say it’s not completely unbelievable. What you saw, was it...green?”
Of course, he already felt the chill of the answer deep in his bones. That his nightmares were going to become a reality. Though manners, he at least could say he had a grasp on those even if he was about to receive bad news. “Sorry, I’m...Max. Trevelyan.” The Inquisitor. Not the Herald.
Oh, good. Zelda was relieved. Well. Okay. Not about what she saw, but that the stranger she happened to run into through the crossroads of destiny (Max, his name) was in the know of the cosmic energy that made his place tick - the weakening of a metaphysical tapestry that allowed aspects of someone else’s world come through. Sometimes wondrous, sometimes catastrophic, it was a balance this place was insistent on maintaining. An order that, while infuriating, she had come to respect.
“Green,” she nodded, and her smile now sympathetic. Being the bearer of awful news wasn’t something she enjoyed, not in the slightest - most of what she saw were disasters, destruction and darkness. “The heavens split. A hole, a swirl of clouds around it. It was a window to another plane of existence. And from it came these…beings. Beasts, of sorts? And there was something on hand. Your hand. Something powerful. It countered the destruction. It’s coming. Soon. Very, very soon. To your hand, and we’ll all witness it.”
A harbinger of doom, someone to foretell some kind of ominous prophecy - is that what her life had become? One day she hoped to see rainbows and bunnies. That would at least bring happiness and smiles, not potential ruin and battle.
“Oh, Maker,” Max groaned, suddenly feeling like he might fall over, scrubbing his face with his hands and moving them to drag through dark hair. “I knew it was coming, sometime, because the fortress - we found it, and it was the same fortress we used as a base in our world, to fight this same war.”
He would have to tell the rest of the ones from Thedas, and those he was close to - because he knew who would step up to help, knew who he could count on. Some, he wasn’t so certain. Maybe he’d be surprised though - because a Breach was going to mean ‘all hands on deck.’
“The beasts are demons,” he explained, dropping his hands with resignation. “It’s a tear that separates the waking world from the realm spirits pass through when they die. The mark on my hand allows me to close the rifts that these demons come through, it’s a connection to that realm. I...thank you.”
Because he felt like he ought to express his gratitude for the warning, even if he had no idea how he was going to tell everyone - maybe they could get a little extra preparation in. Just that little bit more, would help immensely. Would make him less paranoid, for one. “I owe you. Something, anything - seems like drinks aren’t enough to cover for the mess about to go down.”
War. Demons. Summed up quite accurately the vision that flashed right before her eyes - it was a bit nerve wracking, admittedly, but not too much of a firsts. “Don’t feel too bad, Max,” she chuckled a little, massaging the back of her neck to get the kink out that grew from the sudden stress. “We’ve had demons come up from the ground before. The sky’s a new one, but this place will do what it always does - band together and survive.”
But she could understand the guilt, she supposed, when it was something this personal. Guilt wasn’t a logical emotion, but at least he’d know that it was in the horizon very soon, and when it was here, it was that much closer to being over.
“You also don’t owe me anything, I promise. It all gives my girlfriend that one prime opportunity to go into giant spider mode and be ridden into battle.” That was what she kept hearing Midna’s friend saying, anyway, and now it was a dream about to come true - wonderful. Zelda had promised to take a picture, though, but wouldn’t get in their way. A lot of heavy hitters would be out, so she’d offer her abilities as a healer more than brute force.
“Your - oh, right. Funnily enough, the spider thing was mentioned to me before. My friend will be thrilled to have that opportunity,” Max rolled his eyes, fondly. Yeah, he’d just get the hell out of the way - surely Revy and her arachnid friend would want their moment to shine without his interference, and she could tell him all about it later.
He still felt like he owed Zelda something - because technically she really didn’t have to say a word at all. Yet she’d chosen to warn a complete stranger and talk about her psychic abilities - which was interesting to him, because in Thedas there just wasn’t any of that going on at all. “I can’t help but feel bad, I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. I know it’s the risk we take here but when it’s because of you...”
Knuckles tightened on the handle of his cart a little, and he worried at his lower lip while he scooted a little to the left, silently, to let another person pass by. Discussing the end of the world seemed so odd to do in a grocery store, but it is what it is.
Such an odd supermarket conversation to have, but it was necessary - most people were passing by them, minding their own business as they rightfully should. The princess breathed deeply through her nose and out, and she placed a hand over his as a sign of comfort. “Most of us make the conscious decision to stay here, knowing what may or may not happen. And if it wasn’t yours coming through, it would be someone else’s. It’s a cycle, the natural order of things here. It’s exhausting, and it breaks your heart. But somehow, we all continue to thrive. I don’t need to see the future to know that all will be well.”
Storms weren’t forever, the darkness would be snuffed out by light, and the scales will tip back into its equilibrium until the next thing hit.
“You’ll be able to fix this though, it seems? With this magic you’ll have.” Zelda’s eyes cut to his hand. “It’ll be a lot of pressure on you, but you will have support of anyone who sees this place as home.”
“Ideally, yes. It’s a different kind of magic, not for mortals to wield. I’m normally a Necromancer,” Trevelyan explained - and dealing with Veilfire, along with rifts, and such a bold and blatant connection to the Fade? No, one person couldn’t handle what he was saddled with - hence why the mark had been killing him, would have killed him, if Solas hadn’t dissolved his arm at the elbow. “But I sort of got stuck with the mark so I made the choice to use it to close the rifts, and the bigger tear - so we’d have a world left, when it was all said and done.”
Too bad it was all doomed to repeat in the end - Solas, desiring to remake the world in his vision the way Corypheus had wanted. Did they ever get a moment of peace?
“When it’s all said and done here though, I’d like to hear more about your experiences with psychic visions. If you wouldn’t mind sharing.”
Oh. Necromancy. That got a reaction from Zelda in the form of plate-wide eyes, certainly. It wasn’t a skill often known around here, and she was almost sure she couldn’t think anyone else whose magic was linked to the dead - how fascinating. She was also no stranger to marks that gifted you with an array of extra abilities but, at least on her end, there wasn’t much of a negative consequence to the Triforce of Wisdom. Things could always change, though.
“At least you’re someone that did something good with it,” she added. “But of course - the visions tend to come and go, sometimes they can be triggered by certain things. This one came from just brushing against you, so, for what it’s worth? I’m happy for this bizarre grocery store encounter.”
Where they blocked shelves to have a conversation, but at least it was for the sake of the county’s well-being and what was the best pasta type for spaghetti and meatballs.
Trevelyan could safely say he was glad - maybe it wasn’t the happiest news, no, but it was something that he needed to know. For all their sakes, for the sake of the whole county. “I know what you mean. I’m ready to step in and do what needs to be done, but after that? I wouldn’t mind a vacation.”
Felt like he had been preparing for a Breach for awhile now, and meeting Zelda was just the final nail in the coffin - as in, he couldn’t exactly deny this. Couldn’t run from it, couldn’t hide. “Oh, here - “ He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet to find a business card, which he then handed over. “I’m also a therapist when I’m not being a Necromancer,” he cracked a wry grin. “But it’s mostly so you have my contact info, should you need it. I’m also obviously on Valarnet too.”
Oh! Business cards! That’s right. Zelda was a professional now, she had those to give out herself (how exciiiiiiiiiting), and it was the best and easiest way to exchange contact information. Meeting him out of the environment of mundane errand-running was what she was aiming for, in the future, either before or after the skies betrayed them.
“I think I’ve seen your posts a couple of times, so there’s familiarity - here’s mine,” she offered hers with a grin. The name of the company was simply Hoffman. It was what her father had called it before Dragmire’s reign, but the logo had been changed to something reminiscent of the Triforce. A rebranding that kept the spirit of her father’s legacy. “We’ll be in touch, I’m sure, but I should probably finish my shopping and go home to my gluttonous girlfriend? I’ll see you at checkout, probably.”
“I’ve probably seen you around on there too - small world, huh?” Sometimes it felt that way, but in this case, Max was glad for it. Better than running into someone who was going to talk his ear off about alfredo sauce - Maker, no. But he took Zelda’s card in turn, tucking it away to use for a rainy day. He’d definitely be in contact with her, soon, either when their lives were a detonated bomb or when things were calm - hopefully the second, maybe both? She seemed pleasant regardless.
Angling his cart out of the way, he decided he better get back to picking up ingredients for this epic casserole he was preparing as well. “I know what you mean,” he chuckled. “But...enjoy. I’ll see you at checkout and we can see what’s on the cover of the magazines up there.”
Come to think of it, hadn’t he seen her face on those covers a few times? Small world indeed.