Song of the Chapter: Requiem of Spirit Remix - sasukeshika
The chamber beyond the swarm of restless Gerudo was a grand hall lined with quicksand. Its only four torches guttered with ethereal blue flames.
As they entered four disembodied lanterns swooped out of the shadows to snatch up the flames. Their torches died without even a wisp of smoke and a gate on the opposite end of the hall slammed shut. For a moment the lanterns circled them mockingly before splitting up. Three vanished their solid wall. The fourth hovered mere feet from him.
"Brace yourselves," Midna warned from his shadow.
Darkness momentarily overtook Eragon as she shifted him into a dragon. His vision returned sharper than ever. His enhanced senses revealed the lantern-bearer to be dressed in ghostly white robes pinned with a human skull. Beneath its black hood peered a rotting face and empty eye sockets. At the sight of his changed form it shrieked, its lantern blazing as it prepared to strike.
Eragon bombarded it with dragon-fire. The earthly flames passed harmlessly through spectral flash. Growling, he reached deeper within himself, and summoned the light that had proven so effective in the Twilight.
With a long, drawn-out wail the spirit dissolved beneath its radiance, leaving only a white robe behind to limply fall to the floor. The lantern shattered upon the stone. Its stolen flame rose from the glass and floated back to its brazier.
Murtagh eyed him and the white robe. "Did you just kill a ghost?"
"It was a Poe soul," Midna explained. "They are bound to physical objects like the lanterns they often carry. Destroying the object destroys the Poe's link to this plane." She cackled. "Although it probably didn't expect a light-breathing dragon."
Saphira squinted at the unlit torches and the gate beyond. "It's warded, isn't it? And there's probably another door beyond it that needs a giant key to unlock."
"Sadly, yes."
Now a veteran to the process Eragon didn't even bother questioning it. He leaned forward to sniff curiously at the robe. Not only did it smell of death but a sharp, bitter tang from the lantern it carried. Raising his nose he found he could scent three other Poe trails. Saphira also transformed to memorize the scent.
Well, at least we can track them. She sniffed thoughtfully at the diverging scent trails. We could separate. I was blessed by a Light Spirit so my flames should be strong enough to kill them too. Her reluctant tone revealed what the thought of the idea, but it was a suggestion that had to be voiced.
Midna emerged from his shadow to wave incredulously at their surroundings. "Do you really want to split up here? If I was a vengeful ghost I'd have everyone gang up on the weaker group and kill them first. And, no offense, but your lizard-boy is already a walking target to the Gerudo."
Then we stay together. Eragon turned to face his brother. He expected Murtagh to argue the time-saving option. To his surprise the other Rider only nodded in silent assent.
Most rooms in Arbiter's Grounds could scarcely fit a dragon, much less allow one to comfortably move around. Saphira or Eragon only transformed to ensure they were still on a Poe's trail. The prison teemed with monsters. Hungry rats and flying skulls were minor annoyances. The desiccated corpses with rusted blades and paralyzing shrieks were not so harmless.
Worse yet were the skeletal warriors Midna called Stalfos. In life they must have been ordinary soldiers. In death they were vicious enemies with the intelligence to defend themselves. The back slicer and helm splitter proved priceless. Eragon and Saphira practiced them upon every Stalfos. Murtagh quickly mastered them himself. Whilst most monsters disintegrated the most tenacious Stalfos collapsed into bones to regenerate again. Only bombs or dragon-fire were enough to permanently destroy them.
The second Poe had hidden in a chamber of similar blue lanterns. The chamber had conveniently been large enough for a dragon to easily track it down and dispose of it.
The third Poe had slipped into a hidden chamber of a passageway crawling with undead. The hall had been too narrow for a dragon to effectively fight but more than enough for three human warriors.
One chamber, except for the sound of squeaking, was mysteriously bereft of enemies. Eragon's chain-mail prevented him from feeling the spectral claws but their weight still dragged him down. A spin attack with the Master Sword freed him of his burden. Keen dragon senses and cleansing flame eradicated the rest of the ghost rats.
After the first wave of Gerudo no other enemies made him pause. All Eragon longed was to purge Arbiter's Grounds of darkness so that its spirits might listen to him. However, he stopped to stare up at the golden statue that dominated a chamber, for it was no monster.
The golden woman was many times a normal human's size, adorned with a strange conical crown. Despite the serpent coiled around her body she sat with her legs serenely crossed. From her upturned palms bloomed twin jets of fire.
Murtagh blinked up at it. "This was a holy place to the Gerudo, aye? Is this their goddess?"
"Din," Eragon intoned tonelessly. "Or at least an incarnation of her."
The reminder Arbiter's Grounds had once been a sacred sanctuary made his blood boil. The final Poe depended upon illusions to save itself. He reveled in burning them all one by one. His frustration only increased with the revelation the warded gate did not lead to the end of the prison, but yet more chambers filled with death and defilement. He surged ahead of his companions so that he might cut his way through the hordes first.
At the sound of quaking pottery he whirled around with the Master Sword brandished. Eragon quickly sheathed it when he recognized the poor bulbous white head trapped inside the pot. He bent down to tug her free.
Murtagh tensed at the sight of what could best be described as a golden chicken with a white, humanoid face. Only Saphira sharply tugging at his tunic stayed his hand.
"Phew!" Ooccoo sighed. "It sure was dusty in there!" She blinked and then smiled up at them. "Gracious, you're the nice folks who helped me out the other day. How nice to see you again! And who's this young fellow with you?"
A bemused Murtagh was introduced to Ooccoo and her young son, Ooccoo Jr. When she warmly offered to transport them back to the outside he joined the others in politely declining the offer and bidding them farewell. He blinked in bewilderment when the pair then vanished into thin air.
"You've dealt with them before?"
"Several times, now." Saphira smiled. "Ooccoo likes getting stuck in pots."
"How did they even make it past all the monsters?"
Midna sighed from Eragon's shadow. "There's many things I've learned not to question about this realm. That is one of them."
Murtagh opened his mouth, decided to take her advice, and closed it.
The lightheartedness Ooccoo brought with her lingered on even after her departure. Having grown accustomed to the horrors of Arbiter's Grounds, Eragon and Saphira started to share their earlier adventures with Murtagh in more detail. They fell into a similar routine of carefully checking each chamber for rupees and other small treasures. In some ways it was life hadn't changed at all since Midna's near death experience and Zelda's sacrifice.
Any lingering goodwill withered and died as they stepped into a dark chamber reeking of death and the door slammed shut behind them. Mist hung heavy in the air. The humans drew their blades but nothing lunged out to meet them. The only other thing in the room with them was an obsidian sword taller than Eragon plunged straight into the stone floor. It was tethered by many tattered ropes from which molded papers hung.
Eragon tried taking a cautious step forward, but Midna erupted from his shadow to grab his feet. "Don't touch it!"
"What is it?" Murtagh demanded.
"The little papers are ofuda, or whatever Hyrule's equivalent is." Midna rolled her eyes at their confusion. "They're little talismans you write little holy words onto, like the name of a god or consecrated temple. Generally they ward away evil. In this case they're sealing one in."
"Why didn't they just kill it?" Saphira asked.
"Maybe because they couldn't?" Midna snapped. "Why risk your protections wearing off and that thing getting loose again when you could have just killed it in the first place? When you can't kill something you lock it away and pray it never gets loose." She shivered, falling back into Eragon's shadow. "And it's been feeding on the misery in this place for a hundred years!"
A hundred years sealed away with a massacred race. A hundred years spent drawing strength from them like a parasite. A hundred years without a hero strong enough to kill it.
Saphira's mind trembled at his plans. Are you sure of this, little one? His determination was all the answer needed.
The chamber was massive. Saphira stepped away from them and transformed. She spread her legs and braced herself, a barrier between Murtagh and whatever was about to happen.
Midna's shriek of protest fell on deaf ears. Eragon rushed forward to slice at a single rope, flipping back as the rest of the talismans burst into flame. Runes on the blade glowed blood red. Black smoke gushed forth as a disembodied hand heaved it from the ground-
And shrieked as Saphira showered it with dragon-fire. Something visible to human eyes burst forth from the inferno, black robes burning as it swooped down.
Eragon lunged up to meet it and plunged the Master Sword straight through where its heart should have been.
The demon dropped its sword with a terrible roar. Its weapon disintegrated as dark magic normally did. The demon, itself, however dissolved into a swarm of locusts. Eragon could only watch as the pestilence incarnate frantically buzzed up to a hole in the ceiling... to be burned alive by a plume of blue fire.
With the demon died the chamber's darkness and its infernal mist. Eragon inhaled deeply. It was not just wishful thinking that breathing was a little bit easier.
Every location they had explored thus far seemed to have had its own unique treasure to offer. Arbiter's Grounds proved itself no exception to the pattern. Just beyond the demon's chamber Eragon opened a chest and pulled out what he could only call a Spinner. It resembled a giant version of a child's plaything, large enough to support a single rider. It could skip across quicksand and cling to the ridges built into the walls, a track they had at first thought only an odd decoration.
To a group of their size, strength, and agility, it seemed a gift of extremely limited use. Eragon insisted on holding onto the Spinner anyway for Midna's magic allowed them to hold a seemingly infinite number of items.
His hunch was soon proven right. Great gears had been constructed right into the walls themselves, doorways and passages only the Spinner could unlock. It allowed them access to the big key and even the great door it unlocked.
Such mechanisms had no practical place in a prison or execution grounds and they were far too ancient to be Zant's doing. The puzzles must have been constructed by the Gerudo themselves. Eragon wondered what their ultimate purpose had been, especially as they had once hailed this place as sacred ground.
Invisible eyes still watched him from every corner. He fancied the whispers just beyond his range of hearing were less hateful, more attentive, more open to consideration.
Eragon could not call upon the Gerudo, not yet. Oppressive darkness still hung heavy in the air. There was one last evil to slay.
He handed Midna the big key, watched the lock unravel itself, and strode in to face it.
Only sand and the dead remnants of a massive dragon awaited them.
Saphira gasped. "How..."
Eragon put a hand on her shoulder, at a loss for words. The dragon had not died easily. Rotted shafts still speared its skull. Its flesh had long rotted away to leave only yellowed bone behind. Brown lichen sprouted from beneath its skull and crept down its neck onto its upper ribs. Even it looked dead, having long since eaten through its only source of nourishment.
They both unsheathed their swords as a familiar figure suddenly manifested atop the colossus.
"You still live," Zant remarked dully, a black blade in his hand. "How astonishing. No wonder some call you "hero"... and that boy behind you must be Galbatorix's rebellious little servant. But this is truly a bittersweet meeting... for I fear this shall be the last time I see you all alive!"
They lunged forward, but Zant did not raise his blade. He rammed his sword into the dragon's skull, veins of red magic surging across its surface, and vanished as if he had never been.
Eragon's eyes widened. He seized Murtagh with one hand and Saphira with the other, hauling them back to solid ground just as the sand before their feet turned to insidious quicksand. Unholy fire erupted in the beast's eye sockets. With an earthshaking roar it lifted its upper body, an army of desiccated corpses in rusted Hylian armor rising with it.
"Midna!" he cried.
He was airborne seconds after Saphira was, Murtagh clinging to his back.
The dead dragon swatted ineffectually after them but it remained rooted to the quicksand. Eragon then noted it had no wings to fly after them anyway. Realizing it could not reach them the titan instead spewed dark flames from its maw. Saphira barely swerved to avoid it.
Eragon snarled, summoning his light to pelt the beast with. It roared, limbs flailing after him, but did not disintegrate as all evils before it had. Saphira's fire-breath proved equally ineffective. They dodged the beast's blows and its flames but could do nothing to wound it. It had been a waiting game. The dead, unlike the living, did not feel fatigue.
"Eragon!" Murtagh roared. "The sword!"
Eragon glanced at the titan's head to see Zant's sword remained among the spear shafts.
The dead dragon was many times their size, but it lumbered to turn itself around in its quicksand prison. Eragon swooped to the beast's unguarded rear as Saphira distracted it. With a roar he folded his wings and dove, claws clinging to the ribs. Brittle bone snapped beneath him as the beast toppled forward, spine severed.
Eragon unfurled his wings and watched from the air as the dead dragon collapsed, light leaving its eyes. Not only did the beast sink into the sand, but the sand itself drained from the chamber, leaving only the skull and solid stone floor behind.
The dragons cautiously landed beside it. Murtagh, however, leaped from his brother's back. He fiercely slashed Zar'roc at the blade still embedded in the beast's head.
The skull shrieked, flinging Murtagh off as it rose into the air on its own power. The lichen squirmed like it was alive and the skull merely its shell. The dragons snarled, snapping their wings open to fly after it just as the skull exploded into dark magic. Zant's blade landed at Eragon's paws, evaporating itself until only a Heart Container remained.
Eragon and Saphira returned to human form. Eragon helped his brother to his feet and guided him over the Heart Container. Its ambient magic flowed into all three of them, healing their wounds and replenishing their stamina.
"Is it over?" Murtagh wondered.
Eragon inhaled shakily and shook his head. "The Gerudo are still here. I can feel them."
There was no more corruption in Arbiter's Grounds to sway their souls. Their only emotions left were their own.
Eragon looked down to his shadow. "Please, Midna. I need to try."
The Twili heaved a long-suffering sigh but the Ocarina of Time's weight manifested in his hands all the same. Feeling the eyes of an invisible audience boring down upon him, Eragon thought long and hard before finally raising it to his lips.
He did not play the Song of Healing, for it was not his place to asks these souls to abandon their burdens, and they would have resisted his Song of Storms until washed away themselves. His Nocturne of Shadow could offer them nothing new after a century of unimaginable suffering and despair.
The Requiem of Spirit's notes resonated the regret of a hero come a century too late and his sincere wish to see their spirits liberated. Most of all, his melody rang with hope, the solemn vow their race had not ended within these walls and that he would do all in his power to see them restored to their rightful place in Hyrule.
His song was not the one their souls ached for but it was a promise their deliverance would one day be at hand.
A phantom wind tickled at his hair. "We'll hold you to it, Hero," it whispered. And then it blew away from a fine layer of sand from a previously unnoticed gear in the center of the room.
Eragon bowed his head in acknowledgement. Then he called upon the Spinner to open the way to the Mirror Chamber.
At last, the path was open.
Considering the Zelda franchise is Japanese in origin, I don't think those talismans sealing the Death Sword could have been anything but the Hyrulean version of ofuda. For lack of a more specific term in English than 'talisman' I think I'll stick with ofuda.
I personally can't see the Stallord as anything but a fossilized dragon. There's a lot weirder dragons out there in the Zelda-verse, after all. And, yes, I know its official title is 'Twilit Fossil' ;)