Fear No Evil
by Queenie Z

From her perch atop the northernmost tower of the castle, Hylia watched as a small gathering of soldiers drove a flock of enraged keese away from the gates. Her grip firm on the stone wall, she frowned; she knew such hapless creatures would be no match for the realm's warriors and their blades, but the mere fact that the monsters in the area had increased almost exponentially since her arrival was a most worrisome sign. She was well aware that evil energies begat evil creatures, and she knew that there was only one evil that could have generated this much energy in such a short amount of time.

She lifted her gaze to the horizon, and there she saw her fears confirmed. A dark cloud had crept its way just past the mountains, threatening to cover Eldin Province with its shadow and, eventually, the whole of the realm. There was no mistaking it - Demise and his army of demons were approaching, and it would only be a matter of days before they arrived. Though she had planned to call upon the aid of all the races of the realm, she knew that it was all they could do to merely buy her and the humans more time to prepare for their ascent into the sky. The Demon King would raze this land regardless, and that thought alone filled even the White Goddess with a quiet dread.

As the soldiers finished off the last of the keese and tended to each other's wounds, Hylia noticed something odd about their group. Usually, when a pack of monsters approached the fortress, it was the hero Link who would be at the forefront of the fight, scoffing at his foes as he effortlessly cut through them with the Old Ones' holy blade - yet now, when the swarm was at its most numerous, he was nowhere to be seen. This only served to further worry her, and she wondered what could have possibly happened to him. Fearing the worst in her anxious state, she turned towards the staircase and descended the tower.

She moved urgently through the halls of the old stone building, looking to and fro for the spare room her champion had called home since his release from prison. Eventually, she found it, though upon reaching for the door's handle she discovered it had been locked. Of course, locked doors were no obstacle for a goddess; with a wave of her hand, the lock clicked softly and the door cracked open, allowing her to peer inside.

What she saw caused her to open her mouth in surprise; Link was there, kneeling on the floor next to his bed with his back to the doorway. He was barely dressed, as though he had not even bothered to change into his usual clothes that morning, and he was holding tightly onto the hilt of the Master Sword, his forehead resting against the cross-guard. What struck her the most, however, was the way the blade trembled in his grip, the way his hair and neck dripped with sweat, the way he quietly muttered to himself words that she could just barely identify as a series of frenzied, desperate prayers... her chosen Hero, the ferocious Link, a man renowned for his incredible courage, was pleading to his creator gods in abject terror, and to watch him in such a state caused Hylia's face to fall and her heart to swell with sadness.

"Link...?"

At the sound of his name, Link gasped loudly and lifted his head. He turned, facing Hylia with wide, panicked eyes and beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Then, after a moment, he scowled at her, tossing the Master Sword aside indignantly and standing up.

"You shouldn't be here," he growled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his undershirt.

Hylia lowered her head guiltily. "...My apologies," she said, "I only meant to see if you were all right. Your friends, they were - "

"I know," he replied curtly as he grabbed his tunic and hat from the chair he had folded them over, hastily putting them on with shaky arms. "They are grown men; they can handle the wretched vermin themselves." He snatched up the Master Sword's scabbard, which rested against the foot of his bed, then retrieved the sword itself from the floor to sheath it.

Placing a hand to her chest, Hylia closed her eyes. "You saw it too," she said, "did you not?"

Just as the blade was halfway into its scabbard, Link froze in place, and his angry expression softened somewhat. He glanced over at her. "The dark cloud, you mean?" he asked, sliding in the rest of the sword. He lowered his gaze to the floor and continued. "...I did see it, yes."

"And you know what its approach forebodes," said Hylia, turning to face him once more. "Is that why you were praying?"

At that, Link stayed silent for another long moment. He looked at Hylia, then at the holy sword in his hands; then, finally, he broke into a low chuckle and a bitter smile.

"How foolish of me," he said with a hint of acrimony, "to think I could hide such a thing from a goddess." He slung the sheathed Master Sword over his shoulder and fastened the strap. "To answer your question... yes, somewhat."

"'Somewhat'...?"

Link lifted his hand and silently motioned her to come inside. She did so, shutting the door behind her, relocking it with her magic to ensure their privacy. Then, she took a seat in the chair that had previously held his clothes, giving her chosen one a warm, welcoming smile.

"Please," she said, "tell me about it."

With a small sigh, he returned her smile - he knew he couldn't remain angry with her, this benevolent deity who expressed such tender care for his well-being. He lifted his head, absently looking towards the ceiling as he began.

"...I awoke this morning from a dream," he said, "a dream of my own death at the hands of the Demon King."

Hylia tensed slightly at his words; however, she tried not to let that twinge of fear show in her face. "...A mere nightmare born out of nervousness," she assured him. "You need not pay it any mind."

He shook his head. "I only wish it were that simple. Few of my colleagues know this, but I have always been privy to - glimpses of the future, as it were." His expression began to darken, and, once more, she could see the shadow of fear begin to creep across his features. "You asked whether I had been praying because of the approaching army... that was merely a part of it. In truth, I was praying - begging - that the goddesses might change my fate."

His confession brought a lump to Hylia's throat, and she swallowed it down in silence. It was true, she acknowledged, that his chances of surviving his encounter with Demise were slim to none, and she had known this from the very beginning. Though it tore her heart in two to think about, she realized that, in all likelihood, his death was inevitable. It was no wonder, then, that he was so scared, for everyone, even the steeliest of warriors, cowered at the thought of their own mortality.

Link's fingers began to tremble once more, and he approached his goddess, falling solemnly to his knees and taking her hand in his, pressing it against his forehead. "I can't," he said, his voice strained and hoarse as he spoke, "I can't do this. I can't face the Demon King - not on my own."

Hylia's eyes began to fill with tears. "Oh, Link..."

"I need your strength," he pleaded, his own warm tears staining the edge of her sleeve. "I beg of you... give me your courage...!"

She placed her free hand on his head, running her fingers affectionately through his bangs. "You shall have it," she said as her tears trickled down her face. "My power is yours, now and forevermore. Whatever battles you may face, whatever trials you may endure... know that I will stand by you throughout them, until the end of time itself."

At this, Link lifted his head, looking upon her with swollen, sorrowful eyes. Then, Hylia took his face in her hands, gently caressed his cheek, and leaned forward, tenderly kissing his forehead.

"Of this I swear to you," she concluded.

She watched as Link's expression of despair slowly changed into one of peace. Covering her hand with his, he shut his eyes and smiled. "...Thank you," he said, burying his face in her lap, "thank you."

Hylia smiled sadly, her tears continuing to fall as she stroked his head and neck in and attempt to console him. This poor man, her beloved champion who had been blessed with so much love and fortitude, who still wanted to fight for his people despite knowing he would most certainly die... he deserved a moment's rest, a respite of pleasant and peaceful dreams before the terrible nightmare that was to come. So she began to hum a song; a sweet lullaby she had written ages before that, with her voice, had the power to send those who heard it into a most tranquil slumber.

Once she felt his grip on her dress loosen and she knew he was asleep, she went silent. Finally, she hung her head, whispering a mournful prayer to the Old Ones and imploring that They grant her Hero at least an ounce of mercy in his final days.

"Friends! Comrades! Children of Hylia! The day we have all prepared for has finally arrived - the war we have waited for is upon us!"

A cold, evil wind howled through the plains of Hylia's Realm, chilling the small crowd of soldiers that stood outside the fortress gates to the bone save one; the proud Hero Link, who stood tall at the front, addressing the other men and women with the gods' holy sword on his back and another sheathed blade clutched in his hand. He held out his hand, motioning to the pitch black clouds that blotted out nearly every last trace of the sun.

"These dark clouds, this evil air - these are all signs that the Demon King and his armies are mere hours away. Even now, your goddess is gathering all the creatures of the realm to lend us their aid, but now it is our turn to march forward and meet the demons in battle ourselves!"

Shaken by the prospect, the crowd of warriors remained silent, looking amongst themselves as their impromptu leader continued to speak.

"...However," he said gravely, "I want to make one thing perfectly clear: the Demon King's power is immense and terrible, more so than any other foe you may have faced. It is almost certain that few of us, if any, will live to see this battle's end." He pointed towards the crowd. "Those of you with families, return to the base and hold them close; protect your spouses and children and prepare them for the ascent." He brought his hand back to his chest. "And those of you who are truly prepared to lay down your lives today, follow me, and together we'll show Demise the strength of our will!"

After another moment of silence, Link noticed a small handful of people towards the back of the crowd turn and stumble away. However, rather than judge them for their cowardice, he instead felt somewhat relieved - at least there would be that many fewer families that would have to be torn apart by this war. He scanned the crowd for anyone else who might take their leave. However, he stopped when he caught sight of one young man near the front; Orville, the most caring and loyal of his friends, was still among the warriors who would stay and fight. With an irate scowl, he marched over towards him.

"...I will repeat myself," Link said in a low, stern voice, "return to your families. You have a fiancée, Orville, do you not?"

Orville did not seem to be put off by his angry tone; he simply smiled and shook his head. "I can't simply leave you to face the Demon King by yourself," he said, "my place is with you and the others."

"Your place," growled Link, "is with her. Either you will return to the castle on your own, or I will have someone drag you back forcefully." He narrowed his eyes. "Understood?"

The young man's eyes went wide. "But, Link, I thought we - "

He was interrupted when Link suddenly reached out and embraced him tightly. For a short moment, he said nothing; then, with a sharp breath, he spoke again.

"...You believed in me when the rest of the world thought I was a criminal," he said. "I will not let you die here with me."

Orville's face froze in an expression of fear at his words, and he paused, pondering them intently. Finally, he shut his eyes, returning Link's embrace and nodding into his shoulder. "...I understand," he said tearfully.

"Good," said Link, pulling away from him and handing him the blade he'd been carrying in his hand. "Use this to protect your bride and the other civilians."

The younger man took the sword and pulled it slightly from its scabbard. "...But, this is - "

Link scoffed. "It would be useless against Demise. And furthermore, you're the one who has cared for it the past four years - it is much better off in your hands than mine."

He watched as Orville's face contorted into a grieved expression, shutting his eyes as he desperately tried to hold back his tears. Then, with a warm smile, Link laid his hands on his shoulders.

"Do not worry about me," he said, "I am not alone in this battle - our goddess has given me her courage, and she and I will stand together until the very end." He turned him around and gently nudged him away. "Now go, my friend. Let my spirit be with you always."

Looking over his shoulder, Orville took one last glance back at his friend. Then, with a choked sob, he took off in a mad dash, clutching the sheathed weapon close to his chest as he made his way back to the castle.

Link let out a small sigh of relief as he watched him leave. Now that he had ensured the life of dearest comrade, who was still so young and had so much yet to live for, he could finally venture forth on this suicide mission with no regrets. He lifted his gaze to the heavens; then, to his surprise, he caught sight of a figure on a nearby cliff, her white clothes and golden hair billowing around her, silently watching over him and his entourage.

His smile grew as he beheld the image of Hylia, basking in the warm glow of her presence. Yes, he thought, as long as his goddess was there, sharing with him her bountiful courage and endless love, he would fear nothing - not demons, not beasts, not even death itself. His resolve renewed, Link turned away from the cliff and faced the encroaching dark cloud. Then, he drew the Master Sword, pointing it towards the horizon.

"Now... onward!" he cried, "For the beautiful land of Hylia...!"

Finally, with the cheering cries of his people at his back and the promise of his goddess in his heart, he began his final march into the throws of battle.