The vibrations of a large bell shook the underchambers signaling for next combatants. "See ya'll, that's my cue," spoke a young man with short-spiked light dirty blonde hair as he got out of his bar stool.
"You better not die out there Sandstorm," called the bartender, "you never paid for your drink!"
"Gatch'a," replied Sandstorm, his pointer and middle finger signing off to the others behind him; touching his right temple with the tips and flicking his wrist away. His brown gauntlet sheaved hands fell to his side as the iron guards on his forearms gleamed. Boot-steps resounded off cobblestone as he made his way to a tall staircase. He reached into a niche in the wall with both his hands and pulled out two curved blades as soon as they had rematerialized into his grip. The bell tolled again a concert of strings, and woodwinds began to invigorate the spectators for the upcoming match. He through his scarf over his mouth and pulled down set of tinted maroon goggles over his eyes before climbing the flight. As he climbed each step, the no-pass barrier followed behind him, keeping him from retreat.
The underchambers had no knowledge of the battle in the arena above them; usually a contestant would find a mark on their property, their door or plate they are eating off of. It was rare to really know who your opponent was and impossible to know the rules of the next battle. They would either come out with a few scratches and be treated at the infirmary or to the lower catacombs left to rot. This was a combatant's life: eat, sleep and fight for the masses of spectators. Questions weren't to be asked, and orders were to be followed. It wouldn't matter how lavished the underchambers were with spa and pools, libraries and workout rooms, bars and brothels. A miniature city catering to most of the possible pleasures of life, still they knew each day teetered on death.
Cries and shouts from the masses of spectators blended with the crescendo of the strings and woodwind, several drums rolled until the final bell tolled: all noised silenced. A man in his early 40's walked out of the box office and onto a platform.
"Welcome all to the Grand Imperial Coliseum!" He cried out while throwing his arms stretched out and high into the air. Cheers avalanched throughout the stands. He lowered his hands slowly, bringing back the silence with their descent.
"By popular request we are bringing back a fighter from a few years ago; for your marvels, Sandstorm!"
Those who had remembered Sandstorm's last fight from a few years ago raised their voices louder than all the others in the seats, only closely tied by those who had only heard of the warrior's skills.
"Challenging him is a newcomer, a quick-adapting weaponsman armed with sword, shield and arsenal. Let us all welcome, Link!"
The two combatants made their way to the center of the arena, waiting for the signal that started the match. A large stone circular platform rose beneath them followed by a solid middle ring and an outer ring made up of several carefully spaces 1 and a half feet wide pillars; four wooded bridges materialized and connecting the center platform to the solid ring.
"Nice hat," Sandstorm taunted, "maybe try combing your hair sometime."
"Coming from you, I doubt your speaking from experience."
The emperor was holding an open hand above his head; he had risen only a moment before the announcer in the box office walked out onto the platform. Several large saucers burning with fire could be seen high above stadium and down closer to the bit. He quickly clenched his hands into a tight fist, the flames all going out simultaneously and immediately coming back. Sandstorm's blade flew down, blocked by the Hylian shield.
Link immediately attacked, the crowd roared in applause. Sandstorm ducked beneath the blade and swept kicked Link off balance; he quickly rolled, got back up and began firing arrow after arrow. Sandstorm created a sandstorm to block Link's view, but this wouldn't stop him. He placed the lens of truth over his eye, the magical item fused over his skin, the lens becoming his cornea and the Sheikah tear curving along his cheek. Sandstorms confident smirk ended as he heard the twang of a bow and whistling arrow. He quickly got out of the way and dodged the second arrow before slicing it in two.
He removed the sandstorm and jumped down into pit; Link threw his boomerang (after removing the lens of truth) in an attempt to knock Sandstorm off a wall of sand he was surfing on. Sandstorm lowered his wall while jumping over the approaching bridge just before Link's boomerang was getting close; he landed on his creation and began forming whips and tendrils to attack Link. Link threw a bomb into the tendril mass then quickly used his hookshot to bridge Sandstorm was about to jump over; the explosion shocked and scattered the sand causing the tendrils to crumble just as Link thrusted his sword up into the air striking Sandstorm. Link jumped down into the pit.
"You, you're good. Come to join the combatants?"
"I am only here so that I can speak to emperor and return to my home, Hyrule."
"Sounds picturesque," Sandstorm recognized the wearing faces of disapproval, "if you excuse me I have a fight to finish."
Again Link blocked an attack from one of Sandstorm's blades.
"You're predictable."
"That so?"
A blast of sand from behind sent Link flying into a wall causing him to drop his shield; Sandstorm immediately buried it as he ran to attack with his blades. Link dodged and waited for an opening to attack; Sandstorm utilized a burst of sand to help him dodge the attack and immediately counterstriked. Link hookshotted up to the bridge and Sandstorm formed a pillar beneath his feet to launch himself into the air and onto the middle ring. As the two combatants got closer Link pulled out another bomb and threw it at Sandstorm; he quickly wrapped the bomb in sand and hurled back a vitrified projectile which blasted glass shrapnel just after Link was able to jump back down into the pit. He was suddenly lifted up by a wall which then began to slope, causing him to slide back onto the ring.
"Now let's just have a nice clean fight, you know two-swords versus left-hander, that sounds fair, right?"
Link threw his boomerang and dodged a flurry from Sandstorm, catching the boomerang again after striking Sandstorm in the back of the head. Sandstorm retaliated with a blow to his opponent before bringing the fight to the last touched area of the arena. The bottom of Link's boots quickly changed to allow him to hover over the air and onto the small pillars.
Metal pinged against metal as they jumped or hovered from pillar to pillar, dodging blasts of sand, bombs, and boomerangs; the spectators cheered and threw in golden coins down into the arena. Sandstorm caught the Master Sword on blade and kicked it's wielder off of its grip. Link fell down into the pit below the pillars and went to grab his sword; Sandstorm had it immediately vitrified. Link attempted to blast the glass away with a bomb, but was having no luck with the endless barrage of sand attacks. For some strange reason Link took out a small blue ocarina and began to play a song: ascending D, F, high D, D, F, high D, high E and F twice, E, and descending C, A.
Everyone looked at Link trying to figure out what use it was playing music, then a clasp of thunder shock the coliseum as heavy rain pelted the ground. Sandstorm slipped off the pillars and fell. He scoffed his breath, before resuming his onslaught from before Link's little ocarina solo half-time performance. Something wasn't right though; the rain kept disrupting the sand like the explosion from earlier keeping Sandstorm from being able to use his signature ability. The rain however had no effect on the bomb that blasted the Master Sword free. The blast hit Sandstorm and he was not prepared for the attack Link delivered to his weakened body. He fell onto the coliseum ground, his vision slowly fading with the cheers and applauds from the spectators.
The arena was reset to how it was before the battle, Link picked up his shield which was brought up from beneath the ground and wiped off the wet sand. A man approached him and put his arm around him.
"Excellent work, Link! Excellent work! At this rate you'll see the emperor in no time."
"I was told I would see him after the battle."
"While in those clothes? Come on, you're all wet and you don't want to offend royalty. Just go ahead down into the underchambers. Get all warmed up, dry yourself, and tonight I will take you to his Highness."
As Link descended the staircase back down into the underchambers a small team of paramedics looked at Sandstorm.
"I'm not finding a pulse."
"Should we try and recover him at the infirmary?"
"After taking a blast like that and a sword right afterwards I doubt it'll matter. He won't make it anyway."
The team placed him on a wooden stretcher and threw a white body cloth over him.
"Into the catacombs we go."
Several hours passed when Sandstorm woke up. He groaned as he held his hand to his gut.
"Aghhh, man that guy knows how to hit hard."
He looked around trying to figure out where he was, but there was very little light almost none at all. He carefully and slowly crept along the ground, feeling the wall to help him not run into anything. His hand felt a small ring of iron and a wooden stick being held by it. "Oh perfect!" He exclaimed as he removed the unlit torch from off the wall and searched for flint with one hand. After finding some he held the torch between his feet and ignited the kindling from a spark; he then picked up the torch with one hand placed the flint in his pocket as he stood up.
The light gradually crept across the ground revealing several skeletons lying about; Sandstorm looked around in shock as he realized that he had been buried alive in the catacombs. He searched for a corridor, an exit of some kind, as he stepped over and around corpse after corpse. His heart raced with each passing minute, and more than twice he had nearly fallen down a shaft that seemed to go down even further than the catacombs. He would collect unlit torches to use when the kindling on would had finally burnt out, he didn't want to be trapped down there in the dark only to starve or be eaten alive by the spiders and rats.
He then turned a corner and saw a small flight of about three or four wooden steps leading up to a platform where a door was. He placed his torch in the holster, removing the unlit one first, so he could use both hands. He pounded on the door and called out as loud as he could.
"Someone out there, help! I'm trapped inside!"
He pounded harder and harder.
"I'm still alive! Please let me out! I'm still alive!" He cried over and over but to no avail. He began pushing the door, running at it to try to break it open, kicking, anything. He checked himself only to find his swords were missing. Again he resume to pushing and kicking, he then tried turning the handle but it wouldn't budge; he began pulling and pulling as hard as he could. He pulled on the door with as much strength as he could muster only to lose his grip and stubble backwards and fall of the platform and onto the dirt floor.
He wiped himself off and looked up to see that the door had finally budged open just a little bit; he then eased the door open more bit by bit with his fingers until it open enough to get more and more of himself through. On the other side was a small stairwell with broken rafters and webs. A part of the stone staircase had fallen off and it was completely dark except for the faint light from the torch in the catacombs behind him and the light that seeped from the door at the top. As Sandstorm climbed up higher he could hear music, gossiping and laughter. He reached the top, turned the handle and pushed the door open.
Crash!
A large shelf had fallen to the ground. Sandstorm carefully stepped over the shelf, trying not step on anything that came down with the shelf. An older woman with greying hair quickly entered the room when she heard the crash; she scolded him.
"What do you think you are doing back here? These costumes are for actresses only. You are a very perverted young man for sneaking around back here. I don't know if you are a peeping Tom or a cross-dresser, but from what I can judge so far by your character it wouldn't surprise me if you are both."
"Listen, I know it looks-"
"Oh enough of your excuses!"
She through a drape over his face before escorting him out; he could hear conversations around him stop as he was led past the changing rooms. "Do not worry ladies, I have everything under control." She pushed him out the door, removed the drape and slapped him hard across the face. His cheek throbbed only second to how much it stung. "For your sake, I better not see you anywhere in here again!" she threatened, and slammed the door.
Sandstorm made his way from the theatre changing rooms and wardrobes, through the hallways and large courts and back to the bar. He reached into his pocket and placed four coins onto the countertop.
"Most here pay after they have their drinks."
"It's for earlier today."
"Earlier today, what are you talking about I've never seen you around here before?"
"Come on Talse, it's me Sandstorm."
"Whatever newbie, just order the damn drink already."
"I already said this is for earlier."
He turned himself after someone tapped him on the shoulder; next to him was a big guy with long thick dark hair, and a goatee. His eyes widened.
"Listen kid, your joke only goes so far. People here are getting annoyed."
"The Berserker King," Sandstorm said with bewilderment, "How- how are you here? Two weeks ago you-". He couldn't finish. The words choked in his mouth. He looked around to see that their little conversation had attracted more attention than he wanted.
"Go ahead and take the money, let the next guy have a drink on me. I'm gonna go spar, maybe try to clear my head."
Sandstorm made his way to gym and training rooms. He walked up to a crevice in the wall similar to those found near the arena and placed his hands inside. Nothing happened. He tried again. Again still nothing. "Just use one off the rack." called out a familiar voice. He looked back to see Link.
"Link! Wait, what are you still doing here? Weren't you going to see the emperor?"
"We're combatants, we are not allowed to see the emperor."
"What about getting back to Hyrule? During our match today you said you'd see him so he'd get you back."
"I don't know what you are talking about. I've always been a combatant, I've never heard of this 'Hyrule' and my last battle was three days ago. Now if you excuse me I have an archery group waiting for me."
He grabbed a few large bundles of arrows and exited the room. Sandstorm stood alone in front of the weapon crevice; his mind trying to make sense of the current events.
"What in the world is going on?"