I knuckle sand from my eyes and before me sprawls a colossal, obsidian ziggurat. I can scarcely survey the entire thing without turning my head. It's nightfall and a desert surrounds the black, torch-lit structure. The desert-edge bounds and leaps beyond fringes I imagine do not exist. The music and laughter fade. Everyone, in one silent mob, ascends the ziggurat to the highest level. There the entire tribe stands around the central ramp where father delivers his introductory speech. The wind pushes and pulls me like a tide, my dress and cape billow wildy. Father stands tall.
"My brothers and sisters," he begins, "we stand here today on Holy ground: the brink of reality and dream. This sacred realm and this beautiful edifice," he motions to our environment and resumes, "created by our ancestors, houses our history and vengeance. Hear well, my people," father motions the tribal code for everyone to sit, " for our tribe's history is carried in this desert wind.
"In the early days of creation, the Goddesses Three formed land and sea and sky. They fashioned races of gods, demons, and creatures, and all lived together. The Three celebrated their newest creations by forging their governing agent, the Triforce. A relic that can alter reality with a single touch. They then ordained the cursed Knil, the Fierce One, as their regent and all, all seemed well." I remember when grandfather recited the tribal history. He would detail the love relationship between the Fierce One and Lady Hylia, but father omits it.
"-dawn of avarice came and many souls sought the Triforce. Fearing it might fall into unworthy hands, the Three reflected the realm into two others: a light and a dark realm. With three realms existing, the Three placed the Triforce in the light realm and supposed who would be its protector and guardian. The candidates were gods: the Fierce One, Lady Hylia, and the Supreme Dominion." I glance around at my tribe; everyone focuses on father. I wonder how the tribe manages to fit on the ziggurat's highest level. When I was younger, people strained to hear from the steps. Why are we so few now? I return my attention to father,
"-his failures disqualified him and the task turned to Lady Hylia or Suprme Dominion to swore and guard the Triforce from evil in his stead. But Lord Dominion knew in his heart that his power only could protect the Triforce and all sacredness. He demanded the title of protector and regent over the light realm. However, the Three Goddesses chose the first and sentenced Supreme Dominion to rule the dark realm.
The three worlds were then tethered and settled using special paths such as the one beneath this land's clock tower, and for a time peace abounded. Seeing tranquility, the Three returned to their divine and distant land.
"But Lord Dominion could not forgive their ignorance. It was then that the mages of our tribe found favor in his sight. Master Maultrich is the last of those mages. He has summoned us to conclave in order to disclose his plan for our Lord's return. I say hear and obey his words!"
A murmur wafted amongst the crowd. Maultrich arose and ascended the platform as father descended. His eyes glistened as if a firestorm blazed behind them.
"Many thanks, Captain Kumari, King of Masks. As our history tells, we allied with Supreme Dominion and became his personal attendants. His frustrations bleed to pure malice and he planned to battle the light-dwellers for the possession of the Holy Power. Supreme Dominion forsook his godhood and became the Demon King, Demise; our Lord and Dark Master. He promised that, in return for our loyalty, the Triforce would grant us magic and prosperity beyond comprehension. Passing through the Trivium beneath this land's Tower of Time, we broke a fissure up into the Golden Land! At Lord Demise's side, victory was near. And his Lordship would have seized the Triforce if Lady Hylia had not desperately sent it skyward. She was then aided by the Fierce One: Lady Hylia's disgraceful and so-called hero."
Jeers and laughs erupted from the crowd.
"Yes, indeed, but it seemed the fallen hero still had some spunk in him. Together, they imprisoned Lord Demise with a foul seal. And as we retreated, we learned of the Fierce One's other unforgivable sin. In the Trivium, he destroyed the third gate leading to the dark realm, our home! Cut off from the twilite realm and our families - our beloved children, fathers, wives, and sisters - we were left at mercy of the Fierce One's lumbering proxies, the giants. But did we surrender?"
The tribe roared, "NO!"
"We made a home, here, in Ikana and built Stone Tower as our oath to possess the Triforce: to consume its power, influence, and prowess. We plotted and prepared.
"After centuries however, Lord Ghirahim's bokoblin messengers reached our doors with more terrible news. Ghirahim performed a perfect resurrection of Lord Demise - body and spirit - but both were conquered by the Spirit of that fallen hero. Before the bokoblin could request reinforcements from our tribe, it was too late. The spirits of the three great gods entered into a permanent cycle of birth, death, and renewal for eternity. We could never know when Lord Demise would incarnate again. Hope was lost for hundreds of years. But no less than three months ago did we, your Wise Men, locate a powerful incantation. The precise incantation that the Great Mages searched a millennia to find."
My stomach feels abruptly empty and groggy. I spot Maultrich's servants slowing rising from the tribe, three carry candles lit with black flames. My stomach churns every time I stare at the flames.
"- journeyed to the light realm and discovered a new nation known as Hyrule. Within its Royal Library, we discovered a sealed portion of forbidden spells. One spell, the Dark Rites, detailed an incantation for resurrection by harnessing the forces of destruction, sorrow, and despair into three vigil candles.
"Years ago, we sent the Phantom Beast Bongo Bongo to search for the Twilight Mirror and stone. By fate's design, it seems, we also ordered him to seed destruction in the Golden Land. This destruction has manifested itself as the Flame of Destruction!
And there was also the notorious drifter, the Skull Kid. We manipulated the dastardly imp into bringing sorrow and misfortune to all regions of Termina. This misery kindled the Flame of Sorrow.
And do not forget the millennia of despair our tribe has felt of losing our Dark Lord. This hopelessness sparked the Flame of Despair. And now, behold my people, the Flames of Destruction, Sorrow, and Despair glow gloriously!" At this statement, his servants mount the platform and brandish the candles to the crowd. Maultrich goes on,
"When the candles ignite and royal blood spills, Lord Demise shall be reborn. The sacrificial blood must be - it is said - of the incarnation of Lady Hylia." Pervasive cries echo from the clan. "I know your thoughts, but fear not. This works to our advantage, for we do not need Lady Hylia's sacrifice. We will not perform a bodily resurrection of our Lord. We will, instead, break the seal on his heart. His heart will then inhabit our own princess, Lady Majora, for a mere three years, at which time the spell will dissipate. Her royal blood is key to this magic.
"I have educated Princess Majora regarding the Dark Rites and she graciously volunteered to be a vessel for Lord Demise. She will lose three years of her young life in slumber, for our gain. With the Demon King's heart - his drive, power, and greed - on our side, we will wage war on Termina and the Golden Land. Our time has come! Princess Majora, will you please join me now at the Hexing Pedestal for your divine destiny."
I hear his complacent tone. He has waited his whole life for his time of glory: to be Demise's lap-doggy. I stand and a muted gasp follows me up the ramp. Maultrich holds out his hand for mine - I imagine a bird bursting from its cage - and I reluctantly take it. His hand is hot and dry just like my own windpipe.
"We will reclaim our kingdom in the Dark Land and rule over all existence! For it is here in Termina that we have rewritten history and manipulated the world to our advantage. We erased the history of the Three Goddesses and the Fierce One and replaced it with our mask of deception. We control Clock Town, and soon the other regions and realms. We have lived and operated in shadow, but no longer! Please, my friends, now is the time to mask our faces and knit our magic together to execute the ritual at hand!"
I see hundreds of clansmen with beaming smiles and rejoyceful tears and clapping hands. But I also spy the dozens of worried and frightened expressions before they disappear behind masks. I scan for father's face, but see only his grinning, white-fox mask. Altogether, the masks look like a heap of broken, colored glass.
"Organize the circles of protection!" Maultrich howls.
Wordlessly, the colorful mass maneuvers and swells like a stormy ocean. A faceless band of tribesmen and women encircle the platform. Another ring forms silently behind it. The rings amass more and more people, rippling outward from the platform-centerpoint. When the final circle settles, I see hands join. The men holding the candles realign as well: one in front of Maultrich and me and the other two stand behind us on the left and right.
"Echo my words and focus your energy!" Maultrich yells and the congregation whispers his words, "Powers of Light and Dark, hear us now!"
I hold my stance as instructed, and Maultrich stations himself behind me. I'm deaf of a moment. I cannot hear the muffled words or the wind. All I hear is my panting breath and my violent heartbeat. I wonder what games await me in Clock Town and what songs I'll sing with the Zoras.
An icy stab pierces my back and I feel warm blood soak my cape. I envision a freed bird, but it flies into the sun and burns into a black, screeching Keese.