He could feel it- the wind was blowing, blowing for the final time in this life. Quite possibly for the final time in all lives. The once proud Gerudo King, denied the Triforce by a forgotten king, bested by a pair of children, and once again impaled by the Holy Blade.

"The wind... it is... blowing..."

His thoughts carry on as his body turns. This boy is nothing like the last. Zelda... No, Tetra... she has her ancestor's strong will, but she does not have his loyalty. The boy acts out of brotherly love, a desire to protect his sister.

It resonates with the Gerudo, and as the last bit of stone covers his body, he thinks of his own. Of the women who nurtured him, of his sisters and daughters. Of their pain.

As the water falls, a presence appears. It's faint, barely discernable, yet he feels it in his core. It hovers around what used to be his head, drawing circles in the stone where blade met bone. A weight drops down on the once muscled shoulder, and he can hear humming.

And here I thought I was too rotten to receive dirges from the Goddesses...

"There was a time when I did speak for the Holy Ones, though that time has long since passed."

What is left of his mind peaks in intrigue, never has he heard such a voice and doubts he has the capacity to imagine it. His thoughts suddenly flash blue and purple, and a memory he can't even be sure belongs to him surfaces.

The hero, a hero, standing in front of him as he awakens from imprisonment. Much as his own ebony general stands to his right, so too does a general stand with the hero. She is elegant, the very image of the goddess that made her, a blend of sapphire and amethyst.

Ah, I remember her now... Hylia was her name. She took on mortal form, the very first Zelda. Before she did, she passed her blade to the very first hero. A blue blade...

"The blade of evil's bane."

My condolences, such a beautiful object does not deserve to rust at the bottom of the sea.

The voice that answers is sad, despite its lack of emotion. "But it must, for in order for Hyrule to fade away, its relics must as well."

I am one of those relics, I suppose. It is only fair that I waste away with naught but my own mind to keep me company. Return to the surface, oh blue one...

"I have already returned to the surface. Can you see my dreams, Desert King?"

And in that instant he can- dreams of the sky, dreams of the land, dreams of heroes past, dreams of the sea, and dreams of battle. Tying them all together is one thing, and it is a thing he is quite familiar with.

You... are lonely...

"It has taken me many years to understand the meaning of the emotion called 'loneliness', Desert King, but I believe you may be correct."

Then if I am to act as your new sheath, perhaps we can be lonely together...