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..|Chapter Four: Shadow Walker|..
I am in the state between sleep and waking. I see red, though whether it is because of the tent or my closed eyes, I cannot tell. The mists of a dream cling to the edges of my mind, and I roll over to try and coax them back. Perhaps if I ignore the sun, I can convince myself to go back into the dream.
The light brightens considerably.
"You even sleep with that thing on?" Zelda's voice slices into my mind. I open my eyes to find I am facing the tent flap, which Zelda holds open and stands in front of.
My hand goes instinctively to the lower half of my face to make sure it is still covered. I sit up.
"Yes. A Sheikah never reveals his face," is my reply to her question.
Softly, she kneels in front of me. A look of interest is on her face.
"Why is that?" she asks me.
I hesitate. "Because we are the people of shadow. We are trained to not be seen, and it is considered a disgrace for anyone outside of a lover to see a Sheikah man's face." I am not sure why I tell her. Perhaps it is because it does not matter any longer.
She seems to sense my thoughts. "Even though you are the last?"
I nod. "Even though I am the last. I honour the memory of my ancestors, and keep loyalty to my people by following our traditions."
She reaches out to touch my face, or perhaps remove my mask. I snatch her wrist automatically, not looking at it. She doesn't draw away.
"You would not show even the Queen of Hyrule?"
I stare into her eyes, my own intense.
"Were you to ask… No. I would not." I release her wrist and stand.
Still kneeling on the floor, Zelda looks up at me.
"Your eyes do not frighten me, Sheik," she tells me softly.
"I know, my Queen. I must go. Link will be heading to the Fire Temple, and I need to meet him there."
I am not sure if the longing in her eyes signified her desire to go in my place, or with me. As I go, I find myself humming Shirandi. After a few moments pass, the words come back to me. While I do not sing them aloud, the story they tell strikes me as ironic, if I considered it in parallel with Zelda's situation with Link—or lack of a situation with him. The song tells of love unrequited and misunderstood, of looking at the other with rosy eyes and not seeing the whole truth. But, I remind myself, it is not my problem. I only owe allegiance to Zelda and to Hyrule due to circumstance and an event in my past. When—if, I think grimly—Gannondorf is defeated and peace returns to Hyrule, and when my debt is paid to my satisfaction and to the Goddesses', nothing holds me to this land or to Zelda.
Entering Hyrule Field, I find it clear of Gannondorf's minions. I do not hurry, and a light rain begins to fall the closer I get to Kakariko Village. The village of my childhood. I purse my lips. It is doubtful that anyone there will even recognise me, and if they do, what will it matter? It would be easy to just avoid being seen, I tell myself. No need to dig up the past or its demons. When I reach the bridge that spans Hyrule River near the castle the rain is accompanied by lightning and thunder. I linger for a few moments, glancing at Hyrule Castle proper, noting with some dismay that the sky over it is as dark as ever. Gannondorf's hold on this land seems as strong as always. One temple may have been purified, but there are six others, and after those, Gannondorf himself. I can feel the dark power emanating from the castle and wonder why he chose this kingdom. Zelda told me about what happened with the Triforce, but in seven years, he has not made any moves to overtake any other kingdoms. I cannot believe that one was enough—not for someone like Gannondorf. It was power he dreamt of all his childhood, into his adult life. Why settle for just Hyrule, then?
I may never have the chance to know, however, as I doubt I will be asking the Dark King or that he will be answering any time soon. So lost am I in my thoughts that I do not hear the approach of a Lizalfos. I sense it at the last instant, and fail to jump away as it makes a grab for me. The scaly claws grip my arm, digging in. Though I wince, my suit is not punctured; the Lizalfos's claws are chipped and torn from years and probably many more battles. I suddenly go limp and drop to the ground, bringing the surprised creature down at least partially with me. My leg snaps out and kicks one of the legs out from under the Lizalfos, breaking the knee. In pain, the thing cries out and releases my arm, and I immediately take the opportunity to hurry away from the creature, though I do not entirely depart.
Run, my instincts tell me. But, my training wins over my instincts, and I linger, fingers going to a long dagger hidden on my person. Leaving an enemy alive causes grudges and problems later, and I have had my fill of those. Flicking my wrist, I unsheathe the dagger and advance on the Lizalfos. As I have said before, I prefer not to engage in combat unless I must, but I cannot allow this Lizalfos to alert any others to my presence. And, as I have already broken its knee, it almost seems cruel to leave it in pain.
The creature struggles to get to its feet again, but when it finds it cannot bear the pain, it draws its sword, prepared to fight until it draws its last breath. It is quite commendable, and I give the creature a nod and begin to advance.
It isn't much of a battle. I am quick—very quick—and my opponent has an injury. It is over in a matter of minutes. I say a small prayer to the Sheikah patron of war, and am on my way after that. The Stalchilds will take care of the Lizalfos's body when the sun sets, which will be soon. As I go toward Kakariko, I clean my blade, the importance of keeping one's weapons clean and in best working order as possible imprinted for years in my mind, and even a small scuffle such as that is hardly an exception to that rule.
Reprimanding myself for not noticing the Lizalfos in the first place and avoiding the fight altogether, I stop on the outskirts of the mountain town. It has been years since I set foot anywhere near this place, let alone within it. I look up at Death Mountain itself, and decide to go around Kakariko. Now is not the time to be visiting old ghosts. I turn toward the rock face and, after a moment's search, locate the hidden path I seek. There are spells of illusion covering the entranceway, but they were placed long ago by Sheikah, and I am able to find them somewhat easily.
We Sheikah have a magick that is slightly different than the other races have. We may look like Hylians, but, in truth, we are a cousin race. Our magick lies within rock and shadow, within song and thought. The Goddesses do not particularly favour us, though we are not completely outcast. As a result, we cannot use spells that come directly from the Three, nor will they help us if we call out to them. We can sense magick more easily than any other race, however, and we are experts at seeing through illusions and deceptions. After I enter the passageway, I replace the concealments back on the entrance and turn toward the dark. Drawing out a small rod, I snap the end of it off and a dim but steady light emanates from it. Only the Sheikah, as far as I know, have these rods. I am not certain if they were found or created, but they have been used for generations to light out paths in the dark. I get the sense that Link is drawing near Death Mountain Crater, and I hurry through the tunnel, not bothering to pause and look at the ancient carvings on the walls. After Gannondorf is defeated, I tell myself hopefully, I will take the time to learn this tunnel and others like it. Perhaps I will even write our histories down, so we will not be lost to time completely as the Duar were. For so long, our histories have been forbidden to be written on any parchment. Only oral tradition, the Stones of Truth, and some carvings contain anything of our pasts. If a Sheikah could not remember and know his own past, then he was not worthy of being called a Sheikah. Thus, I know nearly all Sheikah lore, and whatever I lack in knowledge, Impa and the Stones of Truth should make up the gap. I frown. I am not certain if Impa will be willing to share lore with me only to have me record it.
These thoughts occupy my mind until I feel the scorching heat of Death Mountain Crater. I cannot stay within the crater itself too long—this is an extreme heat I cannot stand even as I am dressed. I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath of air still untainted by volcanic sulphur and ash before I head within.
It is almost unbearably hot inside the volcano itself, and I quickly break out into a sweat. The air rolls in waves of heat, and it takes me a moment to orient myself. I see Link enters the crater from a far wall. Another moment's worth of looking and quick calculating, and I am in the air, leaping to the rock formations overlooking a broken wooden bridge that I see Link has no choice but to somehow get across. I pause for a moment as he reaches the bridge, then leap down on the opposite side. He starts a bit, perhaps not expecting me to meet him in the heart of a volcano with seemingly no protection against the heat. As in the desert, I am glad for the mask covering the lower half of my face, as it serves to keep out much of the ash floating in the air. It is growing very heavy and hard to breathe for me, but I can already feel the tingle of power within me, almost in anticipation. My throat still burns from the Minuet of Forest, and I know I will not be able to speak for at least a day after this. The powers of the Goddesses run unabated through me, and I have no protections against the repercussions. Still, I cannot reject my calling in life, the role I must play. And, truth be told, I long to feel the heady rush again. Before Link can say anything, for I see him look as if he is going to, I open my heart and throat to the Goddesses, and the words flow right through me.
Again, I am unaware of anything but the music. My fingers burn and feel as if they have a life of their own even as I know I control them as well. It is a feeling of pain and euphoria, emphasised by the sound of an ocarina, which also serves to bring my mind back to the present. My eyes open and focus on Link, the heat from the lava below sending waves through his figure now and again.
"Link… I'll see you again," I say and take a step back.
He reaches forward. "Sheik," is all he says, and something in his voice gives me pause.
"I…"
A quick shake of my head gives my answer to both of us, and I throw down a deku nut, the flash brilliant and white in the deep red of the crater. By the time Link's vision clears, I am perched on an outcropping almost directly above him.
Part of me desperately wishes I could help him. It couldn't hurt the fate of Hyrule if he were helped, would it? I know, however, that helping him is not my part to play. That, and the fact that I physically could not stay within this heat for as long as he would need my help. And so, I can only watch him make his way into the Fire Temple proper before climbing out of Death Mountain Crater.
Once outside, I find a giant owl perched on a sign. I give him a nod, and he bobs his head at me.
"I know you, Rakhabír," he says to me suddenly. I start a little at the term. It is the Sheikah term for "shadow traveller," and I have not heard it used for a very long time.
"Forgive me for being unable to return the courtesy," I reply, turning to face the giant owl fully.
"What brings you out of shadow and into Death Mountain?" he asks instead.
"The Hero of Time," is my simple answer. I eye him warily as he shifts on the sign.
"Ah, then we have a common reason." He bobs his head again. "Except, you are leaving, Rakhabír. Why?"
I close my eyes briefly at the term. It is both a compliment and a derogatory term at the same time, and I was not aware that there was anyone left alive who remembered it.
"Who are you?" I ask instead.
"That is not important. You are keeping an eye on Link?"
I decide not to take that as a question. "As are you."
It almost seems as if amusement appears in his eyes. "Indeed." He turns his head upside-down. "There are things you should look for before you can truly begin your atonement. This is not part of the deal with them."
His words are cryptic and I take them with a grain of salt as I make my way down the mountain again. I think I know of what he speaks, but I am not certain, and will have to ponder them before I decide if he was worth listening to. But, I concede, he was also keeping an eye on Link, and I did not sense any illusions or dark energy from him—quite the opposite, in fact. There were remnants of great power, and a strange sense of… closeness, as if I should have known him much more. I think on this as I decide where to set up camp for the oncoming night.
My dreams that night are filled with lost Sheikah passageways and the sound of an ocarina.
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A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long to freakin' update. This has been sitting around in a notebook for a couple of months before I found it again and typed it up and added to it. College has been a bitch with all the work I have to do, and stress I have to deal with (believe me, you don't want to know). BUT! I got it out. I'm going to start the next chapter soon, as I'm getting ideas again for where this could go. Sort of. I have a few things that I know will happen later, but I need to get there first. We'll see.
Thanks for waiting and keeping an eye out, though!
Sheikah Language:
Rakhabír: Term meaning "shadow traveller."