Malon stirred about as her awareness slowly returned and she emerged from her slumber. Before she could make sense of where she was, a deep chill was already spreading across her body. Clouds of her own breath filled the frigid air in front of her face. She attempted to shrug off a shiver as she sat up, quickly becoming aware that she had been lying in several inches of snow. Rising to her feet, she dusted the powder off of herself and looked around. Endless drifts of snow stretched before her in every direction beneath a cold midnight sky. This was a place that sunlight had never touched.
She clutched her faded blue cloak close to her in an attempt to shield herself from the frigid winds. There had to be something beyond the fields of powder, but this place was unfamiliar to her, and she could not guess why Farore had brought her here. After a few moments, her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and she was able to see a silhouette in the distance. Tall and square, it arose from the drifts like a single gravemarker.
Whether the silhouette was a reason to hope or despair, she could not say. Nevertheless, she knew that she could not ignore it. At the very least, the object might be able to serve as a shield against the freezing gales that ripped through her. After drawing the hood of her cloak over her head, she began to trudge through the powder.
"Never been anywhere like this before," she thought as her teeth chattered. She had seen snow maybe four or five times in her entire life, and had never grown used to it. The icy air was loud in her ears and cut straight through her hauberk and clothing, neither of which were designed for winter weather. Every time she planted a foot in the snow, she could feel a chill seep into her boots and up her ankles. The metal rings of her mail felt like ice whenever they made contact with her skin.
A sudden gust of wind nearly caused her to stumble, but she managed to catch herself before she plummeted face-first into the vast blanket of snow. "Whatever this is about, I need to finish it quickly. Don't know how much time I have until frostbite sets in."After plodding through the snow for some time, the tall shadow slowly took shape. Her eyes widened as a stone gray building loomed above her. A massive flight of frost-coated stairs laid before her, climbing towards the twin wooden doors of the structure. Thick walls encircled and concealed most of the interior, though the crumbling architecture had allowed her to see a glimpse of the dark interior. A larger ring of ornate columns circled the building, each one capped with an arch that buttressed the stone walls. Spires proudly reached further into the night sky, like the points of a crown. These were all overshadowed by a single tower which arose from the center of the building, no doubt housing a large bell at the very top. Not content to stand out in the cold any more, she slowly scaled the stairs, being mindful that she did not slip.
A pair of large silver rings awaited her at the top of the stairs, one for each door. They stood frozen to the slabs of timber, unaffected by the strong gales that thrashed all around. Unwilling to let her bare hand make contact with the icy metal, Malon wrapped it in her cloak and cautiously pulled at one of the rings. It did not budge. Only after chipping away at the ice with the pommel of her sword was she able to dislodge the ring from its frosty prison. The door creaked open, allowing the farm girl to slip inside, followed by one last gust of frozen air. She breathed a sigh of relief. The air inside wasn't much warmer, but at least she was out of the wind. Malon took in her surroundings, finding them to be even more imposing than the outside. Thick patches of ice ran along the walls, obscuring the otherwise ornate form of the building. Below her boots, she could see that entire floor looked like a flawless mirror, without a single crack or hint of tarnish to be seen. Given the worn condition of the rest of the structure, this was impossible to miss. A feeling of unease overcame her as her reflection stared back at her with unfamiliar intensity. Turning her attention upward, she could see dozens of elaborately carved columns along opposite sides of the room, stretching many meters up towards the arced ceiling. Sections of the roof had fallen away, either by age or sabotage, allowing faint rays of moonlight to grace the mirror beneath her. Parts of the ceiling that still remained were often covered with more frost, and enormous icicles reached down into the hall like terrible claws. Along the walls, tattered banners of blue and white billowed in the night winds, displaying heraldry and symbols that she could not recognize. Malon proceeded further into the temple-like building, her hand still gripping her blade. Even the faintest of footsteps were enough to disturb the silent air. "Farore?" she called out. Her voice carried throughout the spacious interior and reverberated back at her with startling strength. "Are you here?"
"Stay alert." Farore's voice echoed through the halls and she said nothing further.
"For what, exactly?" she wanted to ask. At the same time, she was hesitant to speak aloud and risk drawing any more attention to herself. Thus far, she had found no signs of any beasts – no noises, no tracks in the snow, no mysterious gashes on the architecture – nothing. That could change in a heartbeat. She peered past the columns into dark hallways which jutted out from the main room. Picking one at random, she approached the corridor to get a better look, but she still saw nothing. However, a shadow began to form at the edge of her mind. She wasn't alone anymore.
"Another monster? No, something's... something's different." She attempted to focus on the source, but was unable to explain what it was. It constantly flitted away and defied her understanding, like something in the periphery of her vision.
Malon's senses were on high alert now. After stepping away from the corridor, she hefted her blade and fixed her shield to her other arm. Slowly, she moved towards the center of the main room, where she hoped to have the best line of sight possible. She turned about constantly, never keeping her back in a single direction for more than a moment or two. Any longer, and it might give an enemy more than enough time to catch her by surprise.
Even with the wind no longer being a factor, the frigid air was beginning to numb her fingers, and she had half a mind to simply yell out into the halls. She could draw out the source of this new evil quickly and end things before she succumbed to the cold which threatened to engulf her. Before she could decide one way or another, something flickered in the corner of her vision – not to either side, but beneath her.
"What? No... there's no way..."
Her blood ran cold as her reflection began to move on its own, twitching and jerking like a marionette. She quickly found that attempting to back away was useless, as it effortlessly stayed with her, its boots attached to her own. Before her very eyes, the reflection began to change from a perfect copy of her to something else entirely. As it did so, it reached its hand towards her, its fingers eventually passing through the mirror like the surface of a lake.
After fully emerging from its prison, it stood before her, as still as a statue. Its skin was a sickly shade of dull blue, and its baleful gaze pierced her like the icy wind that she had just escaped. Faded red hair ran down its back, long and unkempt. The clothes it wore were much like her own, but its tunic was weathered, and its mail had been shattered in many places. Malon recoiled in horror, keeping her shield firmly in place.
Without speaking, her doppelganger raised its own sword. Malon made only a passing glance at it and saw that it was visibly cracked and chipped in many places. Despite this, it was clearly just as sharp and dangerous as any other blade. Similarly, her mirror image bore a shield that looked as though it had been smashed and splintered from many battles. She could not explain how it was still held together.
Her twin advanced with uncanny movements. Malon peered at it over the edge of her shield and waited for it to make the first move. After stopping in its tracks for a split second, it sprang forward at with an overhand slash, cutting through the air with astonishing speed. Using both her sword and shield, Malon caught the blade mere inches away from her shoulder, feeling a heavy shock wave ripple through her from the impact. In the blink of an eye, something occurred to her – that was the very same aggressive attack she had used to open most of her sparring matches.
The look-alike did not offer a window for a counterattack. Instead, it pivoted and attempted to drive the edge of its shield into Malon's gut. The shield barely missed her as she jumped backwards, nearly crashing against a column in the process. Another attack arrived quickly as Malon tried to recover, and she was forced to dive to the floor and roll away to avoid it.
A brutal chill surged through her whole body, seizing her muscles in place. "Can't afford to stay still. Keep moving," she reminded herself. Malon began to circle around her opponent, sizing her twin up as best as she could for a moment or two. With a sudden step forward, she feigned an attack from the right before she crouched and attempted to target her opponent's knee. It had proven effective during her sparring sessions with Farore. However, the phantom was not fooled, and effortlessly blocked the attack with its shield. Malon grunted as the blade stopped dead in its tracks – it had been like striking at a rock embedded in the ground.
Before she could press her attack any further, the shadow retaliated with one attack after the other, never appearing to tire from the exertion. Malon backed away and kept her sword and shield in a tight defensive stance, all the while waiting for an opening. With her fingers and hands growing more numb by the second, it became difficult to withstand the impacts. Her twin's attacks proved to be too fast, and she could only block and backpedal further into the strange temple.
Suddenly, she felt herself back into one of the heavy columns and momentarily had nowhere to go. The doppelganger swung at her, narrowly missing as Malon ducked to the ground. The next attack was just as fast and forced Malon to raise her shield and guard against the overhand hack. This time however, the phantom's weapon glanced off of the surface of the shield and cut into her left leg, just below the knee.
Malon yelled as a surge of pain tore through her. She forced herself to move away and suppressed a powerful desire to grab and apply pressure to her wound. "How bad is it? No, not now. I'll have to deal with it later." After blocking one more attack with her sword, she jumped back to her feet, heavily favoring her right leg. Even so, the pain in her other leg was excruciating, and the frigid air only made it more unbearable.
"Can't keep defending forever," she reminded herself. "Might not survive another wound."
The farm girl lurched forward, slashing at her enemy while placing as much power behind it as she could. As before, her sword was stopped abruptly. As another shot of pain ripped into her lower leg, she followed up with a series of attacks, each of which grew increasingly sloppy. She swung from every angle, using every trick that she had learned. To her horror, every attempt failed, and she could feel an ache growing in her chest as she became more fatigued.
Her twin was clearly undaunted by the cold and the sudden succession of strikes. Malon's efforts continued for some time until her attacks slowed to a halt. The phantom did not resume its attack, and instead stared at her with an empty, malevolent gaze. Malon hesitated to look at its face, but recognized something resembling amusement in its otherwise lifeless expression. It seemed as though it was allowing her to attack, confident that it could parry or dodge anything that came its way. The doppelganger tilted its head and glared at her as if to say "Is that all?"
"Have to try something else..." she thought. "Need to buy some time." In a flash, she disengaged from the fight and faded into the dark corridors, hoping to collect herself quickly.
She rushed deeper into the temple as fast as her injured leg would allow. She strained her hearing to listen for footsteps in the halls, but she instead heard something resembling laughter in the distance. It was allowing her to get away for the time being – it was toying with her.
After some time, she came to a stop and ducked into a small room. With no medicine at her disposal and no idea of how much time she had, she ripped a length of fabric from her cloak and wrapped it around her wound. The glancing blow hadn't left as bad of an injury as she had thought, but it was still unbearably painful.
"I don't understand. Nothing I do... is working..." she muttered between heavy breaths. She cupped her shaking hands together and exhaled into them, hoping to stave off the cold as long as she could. "Need to think... of something now." Her repertoire of maneuvers had grown a lot over the past few days, but she could think of nothing that might catch her opponent by surprise. It seemed to anticipate every move she made, even those that had been improvised.
"It knows you well," Farore's voice echoed. "Your conventional attacks will not get you far. If you hope to succeed, you must outsmart it."
Malon listened intently as Farore continued on, her voice carrying through the halls like a calm wind. "Reflect. Step outside of yourself, and observe yourself with another's eyes."
The farm girl closed her eyes and drifted into thought. At the same time, she remained as still as she could and kept her ears open in case her twin arrived. "What do others see when they look upon you?" Farore asked.
For a few moments, Malon reluctantly considered what others had said of her over the years. It was somewhat discomforting for her to focus so heavily on things said of her, positive or negative. In a way, she felt that it could lead to arrogance if she wasn't careful. "Well... they've said I'm a decent horse rider, I guess. And others tell me I worry too much. But I'm not sure how that helps me now." She spoke quietly so as not to draw attention to herself.
"Perhaps not, but there's something else that weighs on your mind, isn't there?" Farore replied. "Think carefully."
Malon decided to start with the past few days and think back from there. Within a few moments, she remembered her time at Hyrule Castle. The Royal Guards outside of the fortress had been quite skeptical of her, and she had heard more than a few unfriendly voices as she traversed the hallways. She had hoped to forget about their laughter and condescension.
"They... they didn't take me seriously," she said with a sorrowful look. "They thought I was a joke."
The farm girl could begin to her heavy footsteps in the halls – she had to think quickly. "They were just rude, that's all." She knew it was only a matter of time before she forgot about them altogether. "But... this thing wants me dead. It thinks I'm weak. If it's going to underestimate me, maybe I can use that to my advantage."After a few moments, she concocted a plan. It was a daring idea, perhaps one of the most dangerous she had ever had, but regular methods had gotten her nowhere. If she was going to survive, she had to take a significant risk. She loosened the clasp that held her tattered cloak around her neck and returned to the main hall.
Upon seeing the farm girl emerge from the darkness, the mirror image pursued her, glaring with disdainful eyes. As it did so, Malon cautiously backed away to keep some distance between them. "Only one chance. If this doesn't work, I'm dead. Here goes nothing..."Malon swiftly unsheathed her blade and removed the shield from her back. The items jostled in her almost numb hands for a second or two before she fumbled them to the ground, staring at them with wide eyes. She was defenseless. With a gasp, she began to hobble backwards, trembling in disbelief and grasping the inside of her cloak. Amused by this turn of events, the doppelganger kicked aside the equipment, causing them to clang against the mirror floor. The entity began to shake its head, almost as though it was taking pity on the helpless farm girl. There was nothing standing between them now.
The phantom pulled its rusted blade backward in preparation for a powerful, aggressive attack. One strike was all it needed for an easy kill. Malon eyed its sword carefully all the while. The instant the blade began to move in her direction, Malon put her plan into action. In one swift motion, she sidestepped strategically and swung the cloak from her shoulders before catching the incoming blade like a sling. The sword partially cut through it, but the heavy fabric was enough to encumber the weapon.
The mirror image shot a bewildered glance at Malon as it realized what was happening. Before it could respond, Malon wrapped her cloak around her enemy's sword like an oversized bandage. Within a moment, both the weapon and its wielder's hand had been contained.
The next part of the plan was far more simple. Summoning all of her strength, Malon yelled before slamming herself into her opponent and tackling it to the ground. She pinned her foe's shield arm beneath her knee and turned her near-frozen hands into tight fists before she furiously hammered them into her opponent. With no weapon and no shield to protect it, the doppelganger could only struggle as Malon released a seemingly endless barrage of punches and elbows. She fought purely on impulse, striking at anything she could see – throat, ears, eyes, it didn't matter. The ordeal was deeply unpleasant to her, and she took no joy in doing so, but she never slowed down or hesitated for even a moment. She couldn't afford to, even as her knuckles began to bleed, both from the cold, and from the devastating strength behind her fists.
After many successful attacks, the shadow could no longer defend itself and it became still. Seconds later, its entire body descended into the floor, where it evaporated into a cloud of smoke. In its place, an innocuous, unremarkable reflection slowly formed beneath her. Malon returned to her feet and struggled to regain her breath, releasing a long exhale. To her amazement, the frost coating the building began to melt away rapidly. Feeling began to return to her body where she had once been numb. Sunlight gradually peered into the temple, steadily illuminating the long-darkened halls.
After taking a moment to recover her gear, Malon closed her eyes and reclined against one of the columns. The warm sun felt incredible on her face, and she felt as though she could doze off at any moment.
"You did well, Malon." Farore's voice echoed through the building once more.
"Close call," she replied. "Could've gone much worse. Leg's probably gonna bother me for a while." She examined her painful wound more closely and supposed that it could be easily treated after she left this bizarre plane of existence.
"I believe you'll recover quickly," the Oracle stated. "Learn from this experience. A warrior should always be aware of others... and of themselves. If you understand your enemy's assumptions – if you can turn your opponent's mindset into an advantage, you'll be unstoppable."
"Unstoppable... I kinda like the sound of that." Malon couldn't help but utter a small laugh. She never thought she'd hear such a word used in relation to her.
For a while, she began to think of home, of life outside of her journey. A yawn escaped her and she stretched her arms wide as a sudden feeling of drowsiness overtook her. A good, long rest sounded like the greatest thing in the world at a time like this. Her thoughts gradually faded as she began to drift into a deep slumber.
The next thing she knew, the world around her had grown oddly quiet. As her awareness slowly returned, a peculiar feeling struck her. She cracked open her eyes, grimacing as a significant headache arrived. "What was that?" she wondered. "Wait a second, what am I doing here?" The temple had disappeared, and she was now in a more modest room.
Malon slowly looked around as a sense of familiarity tugged at her. The first thing she had noticed was the cozy bed beneath her, which had been covered with many blankets and pillows. A tall wooden dresser that had been worn with age stood in the corner of the space. A few feet away, an open window revealed a gorgeous morning sky. Light curtains swayed carelessly as a soft breeze rolled into the room. Scratching her head, she turned to the bedside table and found a familiar picture of her and Link. This was her room.