Link looked around, puzzled. He was clearly in the desert – but he'd gone to sleep in Lon Lon Ranch, where he, Dark, Nyche, and Navi had gone to lick their wounds, so to speak, before Zelda did – whatever she planned on doing. He snorted and shrugged, walking forward.
"Mirani? Nabooru? Anyone?" He heard horses and headed for the archery range, humming a snippet of Saria's Song, feeling lighter than when he'd gone to bed – lighter, happier, healthier.
"I should hope so," came a dry tone from behind him. He started and turned, unwary. Strife snorted and whinnied a greeting, moving forward to lip his tunic. He trailed his fingers through the blood red mane, eyes lifting to the speaker.
"Ganondorf." The King of the Gerudo shrugged, looking over his shoulder at one of the posts at the other end of the range. He looked like he had when he'd first brought Link to the Fortress – relaxed, confident – sane. Link snorted and giggled, burying his face in Strife's mane in an attempt to contain his mirth. The Gerudo offered him an unseen, faint smile, leaning against the rock wall.
"Something funny, Link?"
"Nothing, Ganondorf – nothing that's really relevant." Because he was talking to him, and he was supposedly bound in the Void.
"We're in the Void – in a sense. Unumbra's realm exists in that of dreams as well; what better way to apologise while serving penance in a sort of hell?" The Hylian sobered and straightened, moving around Strife to stand face to face with the other man. The desert wind wasn't here, and the eerie silence lay heavy, like paradoxically audible dust over the dream realm.
"Apologise for what, Ganondorf?" The Gerudo man shook his head, eyes brightening with anger.
"Do not dishonor me and pretend – nay, disregard – my stupidity and cruelty."
"You were controlled by Ganon."
"We are one and the same!" snapped Ganondorf, anger colouring his face and voice. He fell silent, jaw clenched. Link lowered his eyes.
"I don't believe that," he said finally, voice soft.
"Ganon is not capable of love, of compassion. He is not capable of seeing the wrongs of his actions and seeking to make them right." He lifted his head, meeting Ganondorf's amber eyes squarely.
"He is no man of honor, and he is certainly not you." The Hero of Time pressed a hand to the Gerudo king's jaw, forcing him to truly look him in the eyes.
"He could not have loved me – ours is a relationship forged of hate, and it cannot be changed." Ganondorf pulled away, anger fading.
"Link, I was wrong to believe I could control it – and I apologise for being foolish enough to drag you into this." He closed his eyes, pain flitting across his face.
"I am paying for my mistakes, without a doubt. I was given a chance others were not and squandered it. It is my lot in life, it seems, to fail again and again to a force stronger than I." His eyelids fluttered, and he sighed, expression relaxing some.
"Love is a double-edged sword, but not, I think, a cold one. It is nothing I would not want to live by." He opened his eyes and smiled weakly at the Hero.
"I did – do – love you, Link. I am asking only for your forgiveness, but nothing more. I am not without regret." Link laughed through gathering tears, leaning up to kiss the man – a chaste press of the lips unlike any of their previous, often furious, kisses. It spoke of regret and forgiveness, and of remembrance; Link would not forgot Ganondorf as he'd been with this turn of their unending wheel of Fate, and he would not forget to love as he had learned to with this war. Ganondorf retreated first, pulling away a mere breath.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
"I know," replied the hero, eyes downcast.
"Our Fate is what we make of it, Ganondorf – this is not the end." The Gerudo shook his head.
"People don't change."
"You're right," Link sighed, turning away.
"We haven't changed – we're always changing. Don't give up hope!" The taller man laughed bitterly, eyes rising to the washed out sky.
"There is no hope in the desert."
"But there is hope in humankind – in all races!" snapped Link in exasperation.
"You've given up before the fight's even begun! You're letting it win, giving it all the power it needs!" The Gerudo man didn't answer, eyes still locked on the pale sky. Link threw up his hands and stalked off, not sure where he was going but too frustrated to stay here. If the Gerudo man followed or simply made himself appear in the same area, it wasn't clear.
"Link, I'm sorry – I've lived with this all my life, almost all my lives-"
"Stop apologising! Just – just stop! This isn't your fault-"
"I-"
"Stop it." Ganondorf fell silent at the Hylian's agonized tone. The blonde tugged his earring angrily, biting his lip.
"We didn't have any control over these events – but we do now. Who's to say we have to follow Fate to the letter? Who says Fate gives us no choice? We make Fate, as we do history, every day!" He heaved a sigh, suddenly exhausted.
"Maybe I am naïve to believe such things, but I refuse to stand aside and allow others to dictate my life. You can fight this, Ganondorf – you have the Goddess of Power on your side! Don't pretend that Zelda and I cannot and will not help you; we are as bound to you as the Triforce is to us, and as we all are to the Goddesses." He folded his arms, looking down.
"Give yourself a chance..." The Gerudo stepped forward, hesitant, then pulled back.
"Link...thank you." The Hylian met his eyes, and they shared in silence the understanding they'd lost in life.
"Thank you..."
Link woke instantly, heart racing as cool night air and Malon's singing soothed frayed nerves and reminded him where he was.
Lon Lon Ranch, three days after that final, harrowing battle, the night that, amidst storm and shadow, Fate was rewritten in the image its heroes desired – or so they thought. It seemed to Link, despite all his words to the contrary, that Fate would do as it pleased, thank you very much. Unumbra had given them a chance to have a say, though, and perhaps now things would change – slowly, but surely.
"Link?" He turned a little at the muffled, sleep-hazy voice, lips tilting up in a small smile.
"Yeah, Dark?"
"Why're you 'wake? Go t'sleep...too early..." He chuckled softly at the disgruntled tone and settled back into the bed, yawning some.
"Good night, Dark."
"Mmm..."
Morning came upon them incandescent and joyful – three days of steadily decreasing rain had ended, and rainbows littered the land of Hyrule in nature's own celebration of Light's triumph. Seated behind the stables, Nabooru saw little of it.
She mulled over the fate of her people; Ganondorf's rule, once just, then mad, then hideously cruel, had left them drained and weakened. Many had died in the catalyst battle; few had survived to witness Link and Dark's heroism. Her own place as leader was challenged; she was the Sage of Spirit, bound to the Spirit Temple, and unable to see to daily life. Mirani did much of that, but she was currently pregnant – courtesy of a Kakariko man who had stumbled into the Fortress some days before Ganondorf and Link had made their way there. She was still ornery as ever, but nevertheless had another life to deal with beyond her own – she could not lead the Gerudo women alone. Most of the other women were much younger than Mirani and Nabooru – they were the only ones of Ganondorf's age group to survive, and all the others were from age groups after their own. Few were acceptable, even endurable, choices.
"Nabooru?" The woman looked up, teeth flashing in a brilliant smile as Nyche levered herself down beside her. Absently, she pushed her blonde braids aside to see the mark on the side of her neck; the three Spiritual Stones, etched and inked with magic and blood, no more. The mark would stay with her for life, branding her a Sage's vassal – Ruto's, specifically, though her allegiances lay with Nabooru and Impa as well.
"Mourning or worrying?"
"A little of both, I suppose," quipped the Gerudo Sage, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned her head against the wooden wall of the stable.
"Ganondorf was never a very affectionate man, but we were, at least, siblings in heart – it hurts to have lost him so many times, so completely, in so short a span of time. And our people...we are thieves, vagabonds, marauders – we have no place in this peace!" The woman's eyes opened, and she met Nyche's silver-purple ones squarely.
"I do not know what I am to do. The Temples are generally safe; the Kokiri Forest serves as a barrier, and the location alone allows Saria the perfect place to protect it. Death Mountain is, for all who are not stubborn Chosen Ones, impassable and forbidding; an active volcano, few but the Gorons can even enter, and so Darunia is too in the perfect defensible position. Lake Hylia is too deep and too treacherous, what with the Tektites and so on, to enter the Water Temple, and the Zoras are naturally very suspicious. The village of Kakariko is cause for concern, at first, but the dead will not have their resting place disturbed – Impa is a one woman army as well, and so she too is completely safe. The Spirit Temple is inaccessible without Link, now – I have nothing to worry about. But I cannot leave!" She rose abruptly, fuming.
"I cannot lead my people, and so cannot but fear for them." Nyche sighed, rising and wrapping her arms around the Gerudo woman's waist.
"Nabooru, you aren't alone; give Mirani a chance, she can train others to do what she would normally do. I can help, if Ruto does not require me in the temple – she likely will not." Nabooru stared at her, fury melting into affection for the woman in front of her. She leaned forward and kissed her slowly, gently, savoring the sun-warmed scent of her freshly washed hair and her naturally rainy scent.
"I love you," she murmured against the other woman's lips, fingers curling into her hair.
"I love you too..." They stood for a moment, foreheads resting together, free hands clasped together, foolish smiles lingering on world weary faces.
"Nyche, Nabooru! Have you seen Dark?" They both turned as Link stumbled toward them, tripping over a stone and flipping back to his feet with skill only a Chosen One generally had to utilize.
"Augh. Have you?" The two women shared a look and shook their heads. He groaned.
"Where is he? He left early this morning, took Strife, and all of the Medallions." Nabooru blinked, puzzled.
"The Medallions? They have no power now – we used it all to seal the Beast." Link shook his head.
"I don't know either. Tell Saria I'll meet her and the others later tonight – I need to find Dark."
Dark swung off the Gerudo king's horse, pausing to run his fingers through the dark mane.
"Thank you, Strife – I know I was far from friendly with your master." The horse snorted, tossing his head defiantly. He chuckled and tied him to the fence post, trudging up the muddy path to the opening to the Royal Crypt.
"Well, Bongo Bongo – anything to say now?" he murmured, not expecting an answer but listening anyway. Something was speaking in the shadows – the dead, he was certain, from the Temple and the graveyard itself.
We...are not...alone... Beneath the Royal resting place...there is...another voice. A song...a voice of one shadow...The Chosen...of the Goddesses may enter...and no other... He looked around, puzzled, then down at the single, oddly square hole in the ground.
"Well then..." He stepped forward and dropped into the darkness below.
He had taken but a few steps when a familiar chiming brought him to a halt.
"Oh, honestly-"
"I'm sorry, Dark!" cried Navi, bobbing rapidly.
"I was worried! You seemed so pensive of late, I wished to be sure you were well-"
"And I am," Dark hastened to assure her, slightly ashamed that he hadn't noticed the fairy's concern.
"I'm fine. I just – I need to know what Bongo Bongo meant." The fairy chimed in question, and he shrugged.
"I'm not sure." Navi circled him, eyeing the narrow corridor.
"This is where Link and I learned the Sun's Song. There are bats and Redeads ahead – but nothing else." Dark nodded slowly, uncertain. Something niggled in the back of his mind – yet another old memory, but this one far older than the others, though perhaps not so old as that the Unem had shown him. A tall, blonde man leading a child – a mere seven summers, or perhaps eight – through the old graveyard, to a crumbling crypt, the stone long since worn to instability and decay by age and weather. Into the crypt, and down a hall – this hall – into the chamber, but he did not go straight up the steps. He sought another opening – a door to the right, all but melted into the rock.
"This way," he murmured, moving slowly, Navi drifting after him. He disregarded the bats unless they came near him, ducking and swatting them aside as he crossed the small distance. He trailed his fingers over the stone, grimacing at the damp, pitted surface, slimy in some places. And here! Here it was, paler stone, darkened with age but nevertheless smooth and shiny, as opposed to the rough, corroded rock of the rest of the tomb. He pressed it, wincing as the door ground open, and another ramp led further into the earth.
"Clever..." He passed through the door, looking questioningly at Navi. The fairy read his expression accurately and increased the light of her halo, lighting in Dark's hand. The shadow raised the fairy into the air, using her as a lamp as he descended. She sat docilely, examining the area with confusion.
"This is nothing like the tomb; the stone is...different, odd."
"Gerudian granite," provided Dark, pausing.
"The same as what the Temple of Time is made of; here and here, they have marks. The Sheikah and the Gerudo both worked here, clearly. The Gorons would have transported much of it; the Zoras would have provided water power. The Hylians, of course, would have done the bulk of the work. These," he touched marks unfamiliar to both of them, "must be from ancient people past. I do not recognise any of them. However, this tomb was clearly built much earlier than either of us thought, or at least this chamber was." They continued to descend, the ramp spiraling deeper into the earth, until they entered a large, circular chamber. Dark was about to ask Navi to again brighten her halo, when fairies floated from the walls, circling the room and forming a chain of light around its circumference. He stared at the chamber, baffled.
A single pillar rose from a well in the earth; placed upon it was a bowl, also of stone. Statues surrounded the room, each an equal distance from the next, eyes locked on the bowl. Braziers radiated out from the pillar, and several, smaller pillars, also an equal distance from one another, surrounding the taller pillar, each one etched with one of the Medallion sigils. He nodded once, taking it all in.
"Navi, see if there are any plaques – instructions and so on. I'll set the Medallions." The two split up – Dark placed each Medallion on its respective pillar as Navi zigzagged back and forth across the room.
"Dark, here! It's – it's-" Dark joined her and examined the inscription that had brought a stutter to Navi's bright, smooth voice.
The words were jagged and crusted with old blood; clawed into the stone with fingernails, likely etched there in someone's – or something's – last moments. The language was that of the Sheikah, and little changed from what he recalled.
'With the Voice of a God, intent without fear, and a friend of great loyalty, speak to the Medallions and sacrifice yourself to the moon-blessed waters.' Dark wrinkled his nose.
"Well – intent isn't a problem, and you certainly are a friend of great loyalty – but the Voice of a God? Do they mean...a prayer?" He blinked.
"No, a prayer is your voice to the Goddesses...then what..." He stared pensively into space for a moment, only to resurface at Navi's exasperated sigh.
"Dark, Farore's Voice! That must be it!" The shadow flushed in surprise, then irritation at his own ability to overlook the obvious.
"Fine," he grumbled, pulling the delicate tube from under his tunic, "but what song?" The two mulled in silence some more, before Dark realised he still had the Medallion of Light in his hands. Muttering about old age and absent-mindedness, he placed it on the final pillar, about to again broach the question to Navi, when, with an audible click, the Medallions each sank into their pillars, and each pillar rose to tower over the central one, splitting open like flowers blooming with a crack of thunder. Fairy and shadow both started and even stumbled back at the sound, gaping as the pillar segments disintegrated, leaving only seven statues holding the Medallions aloft, eyes aglow.
"Speak your will, shadow born hero – let us see your heart's intention," the statues intoned in unison. Navi circled him, wings fluttering limply.
"Well – what now?" They both looked at the inscription, then at the statues.
"..." The shadow sighed, and approached one of the statues – the one bearing the Light Medallion and a scroll. The statue was androgynous in face and form, the clothing styles ancient, and the language on the scroll arcane. At its feet was an ornate hourglass, a partially sheathed sword, and scales. Slowly, grating against the stone on which it stood, it turned to him, rotating until they were essentially eye to eye, though the statue was several feet taller than Dark. He met the bright, alien eyes – dead lights swirled furiously in the overbright depths, and he fought the urge to retch at the swirling, sickening motions.
"What would you have me do?" The statue (predictably) did not blink; the blank gaze seemed no longer to be merely that, blank, but studious, questioning. The shadow gritted his teeth.
"Damn it, just-"
"Voice the songs that transcend distance, and one that transcends time. A song that soothes a royal heart, and a song of friendship thought lost." The stone lids ground closed, and the inner luminescence of the statue faded, leaving a dark stone husk. The Medallion clattered free, sinking into the stone floor and embedding itself there. Dark stared at the statue in disgust, finally recognising them for what they were – Sages.
"Damn cryptic irritating Sages..." He continued to rant as he circled the room, pacing in frustration.
"Intent is understandable – I can even see why we need Farore's Voice – but why are you here, Navi?"
"...Moral support?" she replied dryly, flitting around the bowl.
"Dark, the songs that transcend distance are the warp melodies – a song that soothes a royal heart is likely Zelda's Lullaby. A song that transcends time...that's a little strange, but try the Song of Time. However, a song of friendship thought lost is stumping me. Saria's Song, perhaps." Dark stared at her, mind racing through the songs and the stories that Link and Navi had told him about each one. Saria's Song fit the bill – but his instincts told him otherwise. He stared at the bobbing fairy for a moment, noting the soft patter of rain was audible even here – and then it hit him.
They'd met the – in Dark's opinion – crazy windmill operator in Kakariko sometime before entering the Shadow Temple. His cries of Ocarina foul play had worn on Dark, and he'd only recently recalled it, and asked Link about it. Apparently, through some thoroughly convoluted time twisting, Link had gained access to a song generally of little use – the Song of Storms. He had briefly wondered if perhaps he'd been able to learn it because he'd gone to Ganondorf's side, abandoning Hyrule and obliterating their faith in their few heroes. He'd all but lamented it, and only sleep had driven the worries from his mind.
"The Song of Storms..." It was the one song Dark could not use – for some reason, it was essentially incompatible with Farore's Voice.
"What, Dark?"
"It's the Song of Storms – that's what they mean, a friendship thought lost. They mean Link's doubts about his choices, how they might have affected the people of Hyrule – how he might have lost their faith." He stared blankly at the statues, then lifted the fluted tube to his lips, activating it with a breath and a prayer. Barely ruffling the air, he all but whispered the Prelude of Light, voice breathy and soft. With each progressive song he grew louder and stronger; with the Requiem of Spirit, the final spell settled and the statues spoke again as one.
"Friend of great loyalty and great bond, heed us and stand in our light." With these words, rays of light corresponding with each Medallions hue spilled from the hands of the statues, pooling in the center of the room around the central pillar. Navi fluttered forward hesitantly, hovering above the bowl.
"Dark? What now-"
"Hero. With the song of friendship thought lost, you have not enough faith to restore us and your memory. So great a request requires great power – and great sacrifice." The statues spoke in unison once more when the Sage of Darkness finally fell silent.
"Give us the truest desire of your heart, and time will right itself. A great power sleeps in the darkness of your heart and it will be known. Blood must be had and fear dissolved. Return with the sun's descent and know then what you have wondered before now." Dark's fingers clenched spasmodically as he stared at the statues, voice stuttering sharply.
"T-truest desire-"
"Go now." The statues' eyes went dark, and the air filled with growls of stone shifting against stone.
"Dark! The room's collapsing!"
A/N: Ehheh. -winces- So, I know I sort of already went crazy last chapter, and this isn't really an epilogue, but...it's what I wanted. Sorry for the seriously in bad taste cliffy. I'm a tiny bit scattered - at a family reunion and haven't been able to get online as much as I'd like. The next chapter will finish this up, and I may or may not finish the story completely. We'll see. Once I DO finish, feel free to PM me regarding things that might still confuse you, or -doeet- put it in a review! :)
A/N2: IGNORE THAT! This used to be part of ID, but then I (with the help of friends and family) decided to make it a separate story, because honestly, ID was not going to EVER END if I continued like this. xD