Kyra
The air had a fresh, crisp tang to it that was singular to early mornings by the water. Birds chirped, a light breeze sang through the evergreen needles, and the constant lapping of water on the rocky beach pulled Kyra further into the haze of her self imposed crucible. She was running along the uneven shore, feet landing soft and sure on the dead pine needles. It was still early. Under the canopy of green, she could make out a few fading stars in the east as the sky lightened. Just the barest hint of orange brushed the nearby mountain peaks.
Her body had begun to burn with exertion a long time ago and she reveled in it. The thrill of pain helped her stay grounded, mentally centered on forcing her own rebellious body to continue. And nothing else. If her thoughts strayed to the glowing triangle that pulsed softly on her left hand, they were quickly yanked back to the steady beat of feet on the dirt as she weaved in between the trees, following faint game trails, occasionally leaping over fallen logs.
If she thought about the impossibility of her situation, the implications of this power… If she thought about anything really, that was an excuse to go faster, push harder, until there was no possibility of focusing on anything but the pain.
Rocks slipped under her soft shoes, her breathing was labored and Kyra pushed harder as light crept down the slopes.
Yesterday evening the Gerudo warrior had been catapulted into a situation that strayed too far from the norm for her to comprehend or deal with directly. The sudden earthquake and streaking lights had been alarming enough but the falling star that inexplicably collided with her body brought with it a whole host of impossible questions.
And visions…
She could still feel someone else's panic... see blood rushing down a green-clad chest she knew couldn't be hers. She could see a woman, through the eyes of one who obviously cared deeply for her, fighting with bright and powerful magic.
And the last image she'd seen—as an unseen weight settled into her body—was a haunting impression: a dark smile surrounded by billowing purple fire.
Kyra grit her teeth, growling as the image stubbornly resurfaced again. It was like the constant grittiness of the desert sands. You could meticulously clean out all your possessions, feel pride at a job well down, and then not five minutes later discover a persistent patch of sand pooled in a tender spot. It was a never-ending battle.
Maybe if she ran faster, exhaustion would block out the dread and bewilderment threatening to overwhelm her mind.
Normally she'd be finished with exercise and busy breakfasting by now. Preparing the days activities while munching on bread and cheese and the sweet blackberries that grew so prevalently along the shore. At this point in the day, she'd be picking berries for later snacking or doing some stretches if the other leaders were being lethargic and hadn't gotten started yet.
This morning though, she refused to turn her legs around until her mind had quieted.
Unfortunately, it had already been many leagues farther than her usual distance and her thoughts were just as chaotic as before. Incessantly recalling the events of the last ten hours and trying to make sense of them. Her mind kept plucking out the same images and worrying over them insistently. Impa cold and scared. Colin huddling with the rest. The impossibly painful surge of energy in her body, like lightning in her veins.
That overwhelming surge of power, of pure energy she'd felt last night... that was impossible to deny, sure. But wielders of the Triforce were born, not made. Chosen before birth. And they couldn't be killed… right? The wielder of the Triforce of Courage, Hero, protector of the land, wasn't dead. It simply wasn't possible. Not without a great battle. Not suddenly in the night. That was the way her own people died, not Hylians.
Once the pulsing light had subsided enough for Kyra to observe her surroundings, and the grating spine crushing pain had receded to a dull ache in her teeth, there had been a twenty-foot space separating her from the nearest person. A majority of the camp-assembled as they had been after her impromptu duel-was silent and staring at the lingering, glowing mark on her hand.
Initially, all she'd been able to recognize was a dense, unseen weight in her body that hadn't existed before. She lay sprawled in the dirt, blinking. Then Impa had shoved her way to the edge of the ring. Her face, normally so stoic, was shaken.
"Kyra, how…" Impa had knelt next to the young Gerudo woman and, if possible, her expression became even bleaker upon inspecting Kyra's left hand. The crowd began to mutter.
Calamity had struck.
The previous bearer of the Triforce of Courage was dead.
The Hero of Legends was gone.
"That's the only explanation," Impa had whispered, voice choked and face white as she gazed at the glowing triangle. The older woman had then raced off. Presumably to implement some esoteric Sheikah magic in order to ascertain whether or not this assumption was true. Older camp officials had bundled Kyra off to the medical tent, not knowing what else to do with her. A few huddled outside, conferring, while she glared at the pulsing golden triangle on her left hand.
"…just not possible. This is not tradition!" She could hear their heated muttering through the thin tent walls. "A Gerudo in position of Courage? This must be some kind of divine prank."
"Not a prank. A punishment. This is a sign of divine judgment for the immoral ways of the unfaithful." That was Yansan. A religious leader determined to turn every situation into a preachable moment. And consequently, that usually involved monetary compensation for ones transgressions.
"Please, you say that about everything. There must be some kind of mistake. It's just not right. We must do something—"
Their words prompted Kyra to slip out of the tent, leaving the flustered medical attendant and the old men to their speculation. The lively camp was suddenly stifling. Organized in neat rows with lanes in-between, there wasn't space for loitering or abstract contemplation. Luckily her tent was out of the way, near the water and far away from the main body of the camp. Kyra sat in front of her shelter as true night set in and the gentle lapping of the lake did nothing to calm her turmoil.
She felt numb, uncomprehending. Kyra just gazed inertly out at the water until she could no longer stand the familiarity of of the once soothing sound. After mechanically changing into loose running clothes, she had headed to the dirt trails when the moon was still high in the night sky.
If she pushed fast enough, long enough, hard enough, her mind would be too exhausted to think about the consequences of the glow, the images...
Her pace increased again, almost without meaning to. Feeling in her legs narrowed to a dull haze. It wasn't quite panic she was experiencing but it was close. So frighteningly close. A kind of helpless rage, a feeling of uncomprehending vulnerability. It was rising up, clawing at her throat.
Over the years, her skin had become thick to the comments of strangers, to the harsh words and cruel deeds. The naked distrust. She couldn't change them. Only build up the muscle and skill to fight when necessary and the patience and endurance to ignore the rest.
"Just keep going, love, they don't matter. Keep going." The sound of bridle and bit jangling gently while horse hooves clomped on the dirt were sounds that always accompanied childhood memories of her father. When the Hylians further inland had started to notice she was not just a redhead, when they had started to deny him work and refuse to trade with him because of his association with her. Because of what she was.
Just keep going…
"I understand the sentiment, but this isn't something you can run off." A sad, eerie and intruding voice echoed inside her head.
Kyra lurched, steps stuttering for a moment before she recovered.
It had taken a few hours after the initial incident for her to recognize that more than the Triforce had entered her body. Sitting alone outside her tent, Kyra had realized that a second presence was there, hovering, like a wounded creature, coiled up somewhere in the back of her subconscious, terrifying in its possibilities.
That was when she'd started running.
"The Triforce can increase many of your physical attributes and strengths but it's not infallible... or indefinite. You're going to hurt yourself." his voice was soft, subdued by sorrow.
Kyra didn't stop.
She knew who that voice belonged to, knew that only death caused the kind of grief he was experiencing. And she knew with utter certainty, that if she stopped, she would be forced to feel again. Feel a strikingly familiar pain and anger that she had spent years of her life carefully stifling with layer after layer of calm indifference.
She couldn't allow that feeling to take hold.
Instead, the Gerudo woman increased her speed to an almost reckless pace, dodging and weaving in and out of trees on the narrow path.
Something nudged at her mind. An idea, perhaps, a half formed thought that the Hero was trying to convey but couldn't find the words for. Maybe he was trying to comfort her, explain some things. It was obvious the emotional connection between them was a surprise and he was unsure how to use it.
In any case, Kyra couldn't tell because she automatically shoved against the intrusive, impossible contact. And in the brief struggle, whatever he was trying to express was overshadowed by other memories, more powerful and fresh that flooded through the bridge of their minds instead.
A massive black sword that pulsed with a dark, forbidding magic—blood from an unseen source, pooling on the floor of a grand stone room—a cloud of shimmering triangles unnervingly associated with cold steal.
All were similar in nature to the unnerving images that had inadvertently flooded her mind when he'd first entered her consciousness. The reason she'd known exactly who he was.
"Ahh!" Kyra gasped, trying to keep the trail in focus, fighting against the intrusion.
A growl sounded from Link as he struggled to contain the violent images and prevent them from spilling over into her mind. "I'm sorry." His ethereal voice sounded almost as strained as she felt. "It seems like part of me doesn't understand that my body is gone. It keeps trying to bleed into yours."
His trauma was a fresh aching wound. It was understandable that it was still bleeding.
And it probably didn't help that she was adamantly trying to push him out. Kyra immediately stopped. Mentally allowing space between them. Not pulling him closer but not pushing him away anymore either. It was the most bizarre experience, like playing tug a war with her thoughts. Shaking her head, as if that would tumble all the oddities into order, Kyra redoubled her physical efforts. Pumping her arms and legs in furious tandem. She only wanted to feel the pang of exertion. The sensation, almost like flying, as swift feet made the ground fall away. Only wanted to hear water crashing against the rocky shore and the light even tread of her footfalls. Comforting sounds. Familiar.
"I can help." His voice was tentative, softer. He didn't try to convey emotions through their bond again but Kyra could still feel them vaguely, like a reflection in running water, indistinct and warped."I can explain, a little bit, about what happened… I can sense your confusion… Your anger."
Her pace didn't slacken. Along with all the other things she didn't want to think about, her emotions were at the top of the list.
Perhaps he thought her frustration was directed at him because he tried to explain. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything at first… I—"
"I know." Kyra managed to gasp out. He didn't need to justify his silence. She of all people knew how precious that was. Besides, the situation was too nonsensical for words.
He was murdered and the Triforce jumped to a new, preexisting body, dragging him along? Who could have predicted that? It didn't match with the legends at all. She was just as confused and overwhelmed by this turn of events as he seemed to be.
Her quick steps continued and he seemed to be considering something.
"I can remember something now; a message from the Goddesses."
"Wha—" Another stutter step. She almost slowed, her breathing was ragged and every muscle in her body was crying out for rest. The miles were taking their toll.
The speed especially was difficult to maintain yet definitely worth every moment of blessed, distracting pain. Physical pain was familiar, easy. If she stopped there would be room for other, more unpleasant feelings to move in. A small part of her knew she was being childish, that she was just running away from her problems, but the rest of her didn't care.
Despite having many more reasonable options, the Gerudo warrior kept on running.
"I think they whispered it to me, right before bestowing the Triforce on you."
Too busy gasping to respond, Kyra tried to block out the importance of what he was saying. She could tell he was trying to entice her with information.
"It's directions for what to do next. Do you want to hear it?"
Blood was pounding loudly in her ears and the rasping of her breath should have been enough to drown him out. Directions? What about an explanation? That seemed more necessary at the moment.
"Kyra, you've been at this for hours. If you exhaust your body now, you won't be able to protect Wisdom when she arrives."
Another stutter step almost sent her sprawling. What did that mean? What did he remember?
"Can you... elaborate on that?" She gasped out. It felt like each breath was releasing more oxygen than it was taking in.
A pause. "I know this is sudden and dealing with the Goddesses is always confusing but I'm asking that you stop running now and I'll explain as much as I can when you're ready to hear it."
Sands! This man knew what he was asking. He had just died for the cause he was asking her to take part in and at the same time the great Hero was making an effort to be considerate towards her feelings. Treating her like a person, not a Gerudo. Though, it was very possible he wasn't aware of her origins or nationality.
Regardless, it was probably time to stop running like a frightened child. She'd indulged in the wild instinct for long enough.
He waited silently as her legs began to slow, body succumbing to the allure of a respite without an obstinate will to drive it onward. After six hours, Kyra's legs were wobbly as a newborn dear when she finally stumbled to a halt. She weaved dizzily for a moment before abruptly dropping to all fours and heaving up bile, rasping breaths interrupting her stomach's effort to hurl its way up and out her mouth.
Wiping a shaky hand over her lips, she moved to straighten but instead, her traitorous body tipped sideways into the dirt. She grunted, rolling onto her back, disoriented. Pine bows danced dizzily overhead and spots blinked in and out of existence. Pain blossomed in every corner of her body. It reminded her of the astounding array of aches and pains that had peppered her body when she'd first begun to train with her father as a child.
"You need recovery fluids."
Kyra heard herself snort, "There isn't exactly… a potions stand nearby." She wheezed, rolling slowly onto her stomach and pressing her face into the cool earth. And she stayed there, fighting down another wave of nausea.
"If you focus, you can feel a discrepancy in the air just over your left hand. It's no bigger than a keyhole."
Blinking blurrily, Kyra dragged her left hand forward and noticed that indeed, there was a weird puckering in the air just above the golden triangle.
"Reach for it with your right hand."
Grumbling from the upset of moving her body yet again, she did as instructed. As soon as her fingers came in contact with the anomaly, Kyra found herself instantly transported into a well-organized storeroom. It was silent, cool and dark. There were rows of wooden shelves surrounded by a black void, spotted here and there by wall torches. Kyra was in the same position she had been; only now the fragrant dirt had been replaced with cool stone. No real walls existed around her, just decades worth of shelved travel and war equipment.
Shelf upon shelf of swords, arrows, bombs, camping gear, cooking utensils, dried food, clothes, saddles, everything one would need to survive in the wilderness was here. Some weapons were much older; more decrypted than their newer counterparts yet still obviously functional and kept right alongside the latest items, neat and tidy.
"On the left," Link whispered in her head, perhaps sensing her awed distraction.
She stood up on angry, pulsing legs and painfully waddled over to a shelf teaming with dozens of colorful potion bottles, ranging from stamina elixirs to odd concoctions that Kyra couldn't identify. "What is this place?" She asked slowly, reaching for a red potion.
"It was described to me by the princess as a 'pocket dimension'. I don't really understand how it works but essentially it exists for us and no one else. When you enter, you disappear completely from the real world and can store basically anything in here. Except yourself."
The cool potion was sweet relief on her aching throat. Kyra chugged it in three gulps, feeling her body gratefully accept the healing draft. Though much fatigue remained.
"Except yourself?" Kyra stoppered the now empty bottle and set in on a lower shelf with a few other clear, hollow ones.
"Zelda said that it was dangerous to spend too long in here. I can't explain more than that. You'll have to ask her when she arrives." His tone held a hint of tender sadness.
"How do you know she's coming?" The keyhole still hung above her hand so she touched it experimentally and was instantly back on the dirt trail.
"The message from the goddesses was refreshingly straightforward. 'Meet At The Place, Oh Chosen Heroes, Where The Blood Of The Land Pumps Forth.' I'm almost certain that's Lake Hylia. Then, 'Gather Together Those Of Great Courage, Power And Wisdom, For These Will Be The Ones To Restore The Land. Four Chosen You Will Find: One On A Snowy Mountain Peak, The Second Where Stones Flow Like Water, The Third Where The Desert Sands Glow And The Fourth At The Last Reflection Of The Scarlet Maiden.'" There was no inflection in his voice to clue her into what his opinion was as he repeated these grand instructions.
Pressing the keyhole, Kyra went back and forth between the real world and the storeroom a few times to get a feel for it while mulling over the new information. "It's a traditional Heroes journey. Just like the old Legends… nothing else about our situation seems similar, though." She said, mentally running through stories that every Hylain learned as a child.
His presence seemed to shift, hovering in a cloud around her. Apparently, it wasn't centralized. When he spoke again, she glanced down at the Triforce on her hand, imagining him there.
"No, I certainly wasn't expecting this." There was a tinge of bitterness to his soft voice that he was evidently trying to smother.
Kyra settled down with her back to a tree. "So… what happened to you?"
Link's mood was strained and ashamed. "I lost. Ganondorf took over the castle and… Well… I don't know what happened after I died."
Without realizing it, Kyra stopped breathing and her heart rate increased tenfold.
Cold sweat broke out all over her body.
Ganondorf.
She'd had her suspicions but was holding out hope that it was some other enemy that had managed to defeat the Hero. But no, of course it was him.
The patriarch of her society… the only person that could insure the continuation of her peoples… the father of her tribe. Her enemy.
"I'll have to fight him."
The Hero said nothing, as if he could sense her indignation.
Kyra let her head fall back against the trunk, an ironic, frustrated, helpless chuckle escaping from her lips. "If you couldn't beat him, what makes you think I can?"
"When we faced him… there was no warning. No allies to call upon, nowhere to run." He paused for a moment and Kyra gave him his silence.
"This isn't public knowledge but in this life, I've never actually gone on the traditional Hero's journey. Zelda and I were starting to get quite anxious about it. It's almost like I was meant to die." He sighed and there was confusion and fresh sorrow in his voice.
"I don't have any real answers for you but Zelda will."
"You think she's alive? That she somehow escaped?" It was hard to keep the skepticism out of her voice.
"We had plans in place incase I was to one day lose a battle: secret passages and Sheikah technology to use along the way out of the city. If anyone could make it, it's her."
"And you want us to just wait here and hope that she will eventually show up?" Going to search for the princess seemed not only practical but also far safer for everyone involved. Not to mention infinitely preferable to waiting around a camp full of angry chauvinists with the Triforce on her hand.
"Yes. Here you have Impa and all the resources at her disposal. The Sheikah spy network is expansive and supplemented with advanced technology. If and when Zelda is able to contact Impa, we need to be here and ready to go to her location or wait for her to transport to us if she's able."
Kyra's stomach soured. "That makes sense." Kyra said reluctantly, acquiescing to his indisputable practicality. It was obvious there was a lot both she and Link didn't know. The Sheikah could help fill in the gaps.
With a sigh, Kyra stood and turned to look back the way she'd come, towards the camp. Towards the ministers, officials and masters who were no doubt searching for her. If they already thought her a dangerous bandit, what would they think now? They'd probably accuse her of stealing Courage somehow and corrupting their Goddesses.
A sharp groan escaped her and Kyra squatted down, scrubbing at her sweaty face with both hands. She squinted her eyes shut. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.
But then… life never was. It had always been this way: improbable situations and terrible odds. An resigned sigh escaped her.
Then the young Gerudo woman took a few deep breaths, reigned in her emotions and stood up.
There was no way to avoid it. She was an adult with a job to do.
She had to go back.
Warm sympathy radiated from Link and it felt like he was about to say something but then he stopped short and asked, "What's your name?" as if the question had only just occurred to him.
And oddly, the question surprised her too. There was such a strong connection between them that she'd nearly forgotten they'd never properly introduced themselves.
"Kyra, Daughter of Konna." She told him. It was common for Gerudo women to introduce themselves using their mother's names, though it was a custom Kyra was rarely in a position to indulge in.
"Kyra," He said experimentally, testing it out, I think it's important you understand that the Goddesses chose you as the most worthy successor for the Triforce of Courage. Not one of the many knights of Hyrule assembled here, not one of the master Sheikah. You. No one can deny the proof on your hand."
Unexpected warmth bloomed in her, spreading from her chest to tingle at her fingertips. This was coming from the Hero of Legends. That meant something, even to a Gerudo like her.
Still…
"Link… Do you… do you know what I am?" The question was hard to get out. If he knew about her ethnicity, his bolstering confidence in her would evaporate in an instant.
"I know that you are filled with a resounding determination I have rarely seen in another person…. And I have seen since coming into your body that you are persecuted because of your Gerudo parentage." He said this slowly, carefully, and Kyra held her breath.
"I imagine you are a person that knows great suffering and, it seems to me, that those are the people who can make the greatest change. I'm glad the Goddesses chose you."
Kyra gasped out a shocked breath. Did he really mean that?
"Do you realize the kind of reactions people are going to have when they see a Gerudo bearing the Triforce of Courage? They'll reject me or claim I stole it… Many will try to hinder whatever progress we make. There will be violence wherever I go. I'm already having conflicted feelings about fighting the man who murdered you. This, it—it can't work." For the first time in a long time, Kyra felt utterly devoid of hope. She'd been given an impossible task.
Link was quiet for a long time.
"I don't know why things happened this way, for either of us. But I do know that if we do nothing… Ganon will slaughter more… I already failed to protect the kingdom once. I don't want to fail again." There was a palpable determination in his spirit.
"But the choice is yours." He continued softly, with more understanding than she deserved. "To fight for a cause that's not your own against a problem you didn't create… or walk away."
There was no judgment in his voice. He meant it. It really was her choice. He didn't curse and say that she was being a petulant child and he had literally died fighting so that others could live and soldier on. That would have been more than fair.
Yet, Kyra heard what he wasn't saying. That no one else would be in a better position to fight than her, no one else had the training or the benefit of Link's guidance. No one had the experience necessary to handle the hardships to follow. No one else had the Triforce of Courage.
No one but her.
The corners of her mouth twitched in wry amusement.
This was the same as it always had been; resilience was as much a part of her as her eyes or skin. The only difference this time around was that the stakes were a little higher. This time, maybe she could change how the whole world saw her people—make life better not just for herself but for a whole generation of Gerudo.
If it was impossible, why not try?
The worst she could do was fail.
Big thank you to everyone who's been following this story!