Chapter 25

On waves of moonlight and under a canopy of stars, the Soul of Courage sailed the night sky. Link leaned back against the bronze railing of his ship, one hand rubbing his chin and, as was his wont as he travelled the portals between worlds, pondered on the nature of the life he'd left behind.

It wasn't the greed, the cut-throat ruthlessness, the cruelty or even the casual way people would put others down or use others for their own selfish reasons that bothered him, no. It was the idea, the strange, cynical idea, that all of this was somehow normal, that it was all an intrinsic part of human nature.

Something in his soul had recoiled violently at that idea before his death, and it made him slip into melancholic contemplation even now. Was it arrogance to think this way? Or was it sorrow? Not the Sorrow, of course. Just a bedrock of sadness that framed the entirety of both his life and now his afterlife.

He remembered, from that previous life, the distress that had urged him to solitude, that had chosen for him the life of a ranger. That, and the cold shroud of alienation.

Solace he had sought with the Vor Shahal. Finally, he had thought, he had found a people that held within them a nobility and dignity that was as rare as red sulphur in others. But, for all their high blown ideals, he'd witnessed the same flaws within the Lost Tribe of the Sheikah, the same complex machinations that served only their self-interests.

He still felt the sting of that disappointment even now.

It just wasn't right. And he couldn't see why other people gave in to it so easily.

Yes, I do, he mused. Given the choice it's just so very easy to give in and let your passions take you by the nose. Easier than standing up to your own self.

That answer, though never completely satisfying him, did at least make him understand, did at least move his heart to some semblance of compassion.

And, besides, it wasn't as though he was completely flawless himself, was it?

Was it that, he wondered, that had caused the Vor Shahal to label him the Storm Star? His heart certainly was a brooding tempest of emotion: a war, on one side his sadness and alienation at the way people were, and on the other his compulsive urge to do what was right. And over it all now was the conviction that, somehow, everything would turn out all right, that all the things he'd seen had some deeper reason that was beyond his ken of understanding. It made his head hurt.

Sometimes I just think too much.

He glanced up. The otherworldly wind that buffeted the galleon howled in his ears. He could see, from their faces, that the princess and her friend - what was her name again? Willowmead? No, Willowreed - were not enjoying the experience. Truth was, the ship had already entered whatever new world that awaited them here; it just took a little time for the effects of the portal to fade completely away.

He glanced at the Zora again. Something sparked deep inside of him, some trace of a memory that he couldn't quite grasp. Link dismissed it. Maybe he did know Willowreed from his old life, but what of it? It didn't seem to matter much now, did it?

A shudder ran through the timbers of the ship. Another followed quickly, this one so strong that Link could feel it in his phantom bones. He frowned. A deep, bellowing laugh followed.

Link sprang to his feet and whirled around. Zelda stared back at him, shocked.

"What was that?" she cried.

The ship lurched.

Willowreed rode the momentum, diving into a roll before settling into a crouch. Link, as ever, stood his ground, his boots firmly planted. Zelda tumbled straight into him. He held her firm with his arms.

Link froze. Despite the sudden danger, being so close to the princess seemed to have uncomfortably turned his brain to ice. He felt no warmth from her, though. Not even the beating of her heart. They were dead, and the hard reality of it slammed into Link right there and then.

Zelda noticed his discomfort. Quickly clearing her throat, she sprang from his grasp, then began to nonchalantly smooth down her Sheikah tunic.

The laugh bellowed again. Link blinked. There was something oddly familiar about that voice…

The Soul of Courage tipped forward out into the sky. Yelling, all three of them slid down to the deck, crashing into the copper-coloured railing. Cold metal pressed into their faces. Now stripped of the last vestiges of the portal, the passengers could see exactly where they were going:

Straight down.

As the ship plummeted, the laugh echoed again. Link, the wind whipping his eyes, could make out buildings and a sprinkle of lights below, along with a thin shimmery line that he assumed was the local waterway. The Soul, though, was heading directly for one of those buildings.

One hand clutching the railing, Link forced himself to turn around, his free hand reaching out towards the ship's wheel. The massive sails billowed and flapped violently, threatening to tear from the riggings. Link felt gravity tug at him, felt his stomach shoot straight to his throat.

"I…can't…"

And he couldn't. Somehow, whatever mental link he had with the ship was being blocked. He felt the princess clutch at his sleeve, found the touch oddly comforting. Then the laughing began again, ringing in his ears.

A yell made the two of them look up. Willowreed had let go of the railing and had, somehow, impossibly, rolled back along the deck. Her muscles rippled as she fought against the downward force. Another feral yell tore from her straining throat. She leapt into the air, her hand catching the ship's wheel mid-somersault. With a tug, she set the wheel spinning, then let go, tumbling into the night sky head over heels.

Zelda yelled. "No!"

But it was too late. The Zora had flown away from the ship, hanging momentarily in mid-air. A ribbon of pure darkness spat out of the sky and wrapped itself around the woman. Her eyes widened, her terror filled gaze catching the princess one last time. Then the darkness collapsed, and Willowreed vanished. The Sorrow had taken her.

Zelda screamed in frustration again. Link turned back to the railing. He couldn't help the princess now. The ship was spiralling out of control, but he could see that the Zora had done it: she'd changed their direction; they would safely hit the waterway now.

Safely?

Link pushed with his mind and found, to his delighted shock, that he could feel his ship once again. He began to rein her back in.

"Slowly now," he murmured. "Slow…down…" He threw a protective arm around the princess. "Hold on!"

Zelda leaned into him, melting without resistance. She was sobbing, saying over and over, "She saved us, she saved us, she-"

The Soul of Courage hit the river.

Link remembered little after that. There was the shock of icy cold water careening into his body, flooding his mouth and nose, there was the empty sensation in his arms as Zelda was swept away from him, and then there was nothing but darkness and the steady creak of wood.

When he opened his eyes next, he found himself laying flat on the glistening deck. Zelda had already begun to stumble to her feet. Both of them were drenched, their hair matted to their brows. Link grabbed the railing, then hauled himself to his feet. It was a miracle that they both hadn't been thrown overboard.

Or was it?

I'm dead. I travel in a flying ship. Clearly the rules in the Shadowspace are different to my old life. Think! Surely there's something there I can exploit…?

He was distracted out of his thoughts by the princess drawing level to him. She held herself tightly, her eyes hard.

"I'm sorry," he said, gazing down at her. "About your friend."

Zelda looked up at him, blinking. An odd expression passed over her face. "Why would she do that? She saved us," was all she said before falling into contemplative silence. Link let her be. He wasn't that skilled in giving comfort. At least, not through words, anyway. Instead, he gazed out at the new world.

Link frowned. There was no give to the ship's bow. The current here was thick, as though the Soul was wading through sludge. It was dark, too. Lights glittered from both banks, housed in strange, rusting metallic buildings. He saw strangely dressed people peek in and out of the shadows, staring as the galleon made its unhurried passage.

Taller structures stood in the distance, bathed in a strange hue of green and red, and shooting jets of smoke into the sky. Huge steel pipes were everywhere. Some were allowing brown gloop to spatter into the equally murky river. Debris and flotsam drifted over the oily water.

Link felt his nose twitch. The air here was equally strange, burnt and full of tiny motes of dirt and grease. A thick, cloying mist hung everywhere he looked.

Zelda gazed around, eyes wide. "There's so much…iron," she said. Misery wrinkled her face. "Where are the trees? The grass?" She looked up. "The sun?"

Link followed her gaze. He had assumed that it was night time here, but now he saw how wrong he was. The sky was a mass of writhing, pulsing darkness, throbbing to some unseen beat. As they watched, a tornado of pure blackness winded away from the sky, twirled to the ground below, and snatched away a woman walking beside the riverbank. Her screech of fear was instantly smothered.

Zelda gasped.

Link felt a chill descend within. "The Sorrow," he said. "It's the Sorrow."

When she could find her voice again, the princess asked "Whatever in the world was that laugh we heard? In the sky?" She blinked, her face mournful. "Was that the Sorrow, too?" She looked straight at him. "Are we getting close to it?"

Link had no reply.

Whatever this place is, he mused. It's not the Hyrule that we're looking for. It's time to move on.

Link was about say such when the princess suddenly pointed ahead of them. "Look!" she cried. "Someone's there! On the river!"

Link peered through the darkness. There was, indeed, a wooden raft bobbing up and down on the water, peopled by two figures, one tall, one small. It seemed to be in chase of another raft further upstream, this one also carrying two passengers, again one tall, one small.

"Oh, no," Zelda gasped. "Look where the river goes."

Up ahead, the river flowed into a dark tunnel under another one of those monstrous steel buildings. Flames flickered from the tunnel's mouth, and a dull molten glow barely pierced the darkness within.

"We have to help them," said Zelda. She turned again to look directly at Link. "Right?"

The Hero held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. These people, whoever they were, were sailing into danger. With a flick of his fingers, the Soul of Courage began to pick up speed, turning slightly to intercept the nearest raft.

Zelda's hands gripped the railing as they drew near. "It's…" she gasped, shock blossoming on her face. "Oh, my! Look, Link. It's Malon! And that little boy with him. I know him! His name is Sal!"

Malon. Hope and uncertainty swirled in Link's heart.

He looked. The familiar flame-haired woman was staring straight ahead, as though she hadn't even noticed the approach of his immense ship. There was a little boy with her, an urchin dressed in rags. He clutching desperately to a dirty wooden sword.

"Malon," Link called, quietly at first, then, "Malon!"

The ranch woman looked up with a frown. The little boy stepped in front of her, sword at the ready. "Stay away!" he called. "This is Rebellion business!"

"Sal?" Zelda said gently. "Don't you remember me?" When the little boy responded with a suspicious scowl, she added, "Of course he doesn't. I was Sheik then."

Link looked startled. "You were?"

"Not now, Link," she replied. "Can you get the ship to block their path?"

"Sit it in front of them?" he asked. "Definitely."

Malon finally stirred below them. "It's Tayer and Ben," she said, pointing at the other raft. "I have to get to them. I've been followin' them for so very long. It's a wonder why they can't ever hear me." She then turned to the Soul. "Who are you people?"

"She doesn't remember us," the princess said. Link heard the sadness in her voice and felt it weigh down on his own heart.

Too much sorrow…

Zelda turned to Link, opening her mouth to speak yet again, but he was already ahead of her. "Block both the rafts," he said. He felt a surge of confidence, the way he usually did when he had something useful to do. Much better than just sitting and talking. "We just have to get to the tunnel before they do."

With a mental push, the Soul cut a quick past both boats, setting the rafts bobbing wildly in the ship's wake. Sal, the young urchin, shook his fist in frustration. Link smiled.

"Who's Tayer?" he asked.

"Malon's betrothed," Zelda replied. She must have seen something on his face because she added, "I know. It's wonderful, isn't it?" Her voice became pensive. "Or it would have been had they not both died."

Link's found that his own feelings were bittersweet on the matter. "And Ben?"

"A young friend," the princess said. "A mutual one."

"We'll save them."

"I hope so."

Link found his gaze momentarily taken by a huge squat building to their left. It pulsed with a sickly jade light and buzzed with some strange sort of energy. It was marked in a script that Link, surprisingly, found he could read, though some of the letters were clearly missing. It read:

S CTOR 5 M KO REACT R

Link couldn't make any sense of it. Turning back, he saw that the Soul was now fast approaching the mouth of the tunnel. Something hissed from deep inside it. With a flick of his wrist, he began to turn the galleon starboard, so that the ship now blocked the tunnel's entrance.

"Get the rope ladder," he said. "We'll haul them all on board."

The deep, booming laughter returned, closer now, and louder. Zelda froze mid-task. Link slowly looked up at the building that stood towering atop the tunnel. His heart skipped a beat. There was a figure there, a small one hanging spread-eagled in limp silence.

Recognition made his phantom heart tighten. "Saria!"

Metal squealed in response. Sparks flew from the steel structure above. Girders and beams began to twist, turning in on themselves, curving around, snapping shut together, slowly, ever-so-slowly, changing, morphing, and finally settling into a new shape: a giant Gerudo face. A face that both Zelda and Link recognised.

"Skellow…" breathed the princess.

The fiery yellow orbs that formed the Gerudo's eyes stared down at them. Metal groaned. Sparks shot from his steel lips as they stretched into a wide smile.

"So," he rasped. "We meet again."

The princess had already transformed her fear to rage. "Skellow," she spat, drawing her bow. "I killed you once, I'll kill you again."

Mirth rumbled from the giant face. "Observe," he said. "Look how I have manipulated you all, brought you all to this one point. Here, not only will my hunger for vengeance be satiated, but I shall take my bride, too. Isn't that right, princess?"

Zelda roared in anger as she let loose a trio of light arrows. They struck the rivets and bolts that lined the Gerudo's face, then vanished harmlessly with a flash.

Link stepped in front of her and slid the Master Sword free. "I think you and I have unfinished business, Gerudo."

The laugh that followed resembled the bellows in a steel furnace. "I think so, too,"Skellow replied. "But not one-on-one, sadly. This world here is full of the most useful tools. And I, well I have found myself quite the bluntest of instruments. Observe. My minion."

A figure stepped out of the shadows and stood atop a ledge that lipped the mouth of the tunnel. Link glanced first at Saria, then the metal face of Skellow, then down to the newcomer. Confidence ran through his veins. He knew himself too well, knew that in the ordinary situations that most people found so comfortably easy, he was nothing more than an awkward mess. But here, in situations like this, not only did he have no equal, but he thrived on it, too.

With a quick inhalation of breath, Link took the running jump that he needed to somersault over to the ledge.

His head snapped quickly back to the princess. "Help Malon and the others," he called. "Skellow and his puppet are mine."

Zelda hesitated a moment, clutching her bow, then nodded sharply and ran over to the ship's starboard side.

Link looked up, taking in a good look at his challenge. The man before him was slim, dressed in a sleeveless shirt of deep indigo. He had blond hair that spiked up in all directions. The man's eyes glowed blue in his hard face. Most of all, though, and the thing that Link had noticed first, was the newcomer's weapon: it was a sword of immense size, a blade several feet long and so massive that the Hero of Time wondered how the man could hold it with such consummate ease.

Skellow's grating laughter rippled through the air. "Now this is something I would have waited all eternity to see." Metal strained and rivets flew as he turned to his minion. "Strife! Listen to my command! Kill this whelp! Kill the Hero of Time!"

The man named Strife brought his huge sword to bear. Link calmed his phantom nerves and readied the Master Sword. Water sloshed lazily beneath them. Link's frock coat fluttered in the slight breeze. Their eyes locked. Wary of the other, they each shifted into an appropriate stance.

Swinging their blades, the two warriors began to battle.