Chapter 43
Shadows Rising
The corridor twisted and turned in a seemingly endless maze. Link, with Sheik and Navi close behind, walked up several flights of stairs and wandered past doorways that were blocked by the same barrier that had given him so much grief earlier. A third corridor later. he knew they were being led into a trap. Sheik kept marking their passage by carving a small sigil in the stone so they could at least find their way back.
We could really use a map, Link thought. He might have trouble reading one, but at least Sheik and Navi would know the way.
They came to a junction where Sheik once again chiseled her dagger into the stone, leaving a small mark. The passage they now traversed seemed to go on forever, and the wall's narrow slits gave him a glimpse of a darkened, star-studded sky. Night had fallen.
Goddesses, he thought. How long had they been stuck inside this temple?
And how long were they in the room with the archways? Using the constellations as a guide, Navi and Sheik were able to work out that it wasn't long after dusk.
That worried Link. Surely Halvard would have returned by now. The mask man was probably trying to get inside the temple. He must have been dreading returning to Impa, knowing she wouldn't be happy to discover he'd lost track of Sheik.
As they stared through the narrow window, a solemn silence fell over the group, making Link restless. He wondered what Navi and Sheik observed in the first vision, but Navi wouldn't answer the question. When he mentioned it, her face grew troubled and Sheik avoided his eyes.
Did they see the same thing as him or something else? Link truly hated the awkward silence. He wished he could think of something light-hearted or witty to say, but nothing came.
"We should hurry," Sheik said at last. "If Ganondorf's followers sensed me using the Triforce of Wisdom, they will be here soon."
"Unless they were the one's who trapped us in here," Navi said.
That's a cheerful thought, Link thought grimly.
"Perhaps." When Link and Navi shared a worried glance, Sheik added, "I doubt Halvard would return without any help. We will be fine."
Nodding and holding his sword resolutely, Link pressed onwards through yet another door and up a spiral staircase. The sword's gem was almost as bright as Navi when they reached the landing. That was never a good sign. Steadying his breathing, Link pushed the door open, stepping into a spacious chamber. A velvet rug ran the corridor's length, flanked by tall columns with snakes carved into them. There was another double door at the far end of the hall, featuring a mosaic with an animal motif.
Link paid only a fleeting glance at these details, his attention immediately drawn to the two figures standing on either side of the door and the hulking mass of armor that stood between two of the columns. The Iron Knuckle didn't move, but when the two figures stepped forward, Link realized who they were. The Twinrova sisters.
That's impossible! a voice protested in his mind.
"They're phantoms," Navi whispered. "I can feel it."
Bulbous eyes glared at him from beneath the hooded robes.
"Ho, looks like we have visitors, sis," crowed Kotake.
The other witch lowered her hood, revealing her flaming red hair and the red gemstone upon her forehead. "He, he, hee. It does look like we have guests."
"What outrageous fellows they are, intruding so boldly into our temple," Kotake cried with a chuckle.
"And so rude," Koume continued. "Breaking into our lair, young people have no respect these days."
"Perhaps they learned by example," Sheik deadpanned.
"Ohhh, such insolence!" Koume screeched. "We should teach them a lesson."
Remembering what happened last time, Link quickly drew on the Flow, ready to send a blast of fire into Kotake. He met Sheik's gaze, and she shook her head.
No magic. He understood her meaning, realizing he'd used too much before. Any more, and he wouldn't be able to fight properly.
"Focus on the Iron Knuckle," Sheik whispered. "I'll take the witches."
"I know who you really are, Sheikah!" Kotake pointed a dramatic finger at Sheik. "I sensed the gift you possess. Ganondorf will be most pleased when we bring you to him. It was rather rude of you to break the spell on the Gerudo. We worked so hard to make it. Now we have to make it again, but perhaps we can experiment. I wonder sis, should we brainwash her first?"
"First, I want to deal with this nuisance," Koume said, staring hungrily at Link.
He took a few steps forward, bringing his shield in front of him. Not this time!
"Loyal minion!" Koume and Kotake cried. "Destroy these intruders on our behalf."
The Iron Knuckle stepped forward, raising its gauntlet as if it to strike. It hesitated mid-stride, realizing that its axe was missing.
"Your spellwork is getting sloppy, sis," Kotake said, sounding amused.
"The axe, you fool!" Koume screeched before fixing her sister with an angry stare. "Sloppy is it? We'll see about that!"
She clicked her fingers, and an axe flashed into existence above the Iron Knuckle's head. Sheik ran towards it, no doubt intending to deprive the Iron Knuckle of its weapon.
The Iron Knuckle made no move towards the weapon. Instead, it stepped back, allowing the axe to crash to the floor with a loud clang.
"Idiot!" Koume screamed. "You're supposed to grab the damned weapon!"
The Iron Knuckle stepped forward, one heavy foot stepping on the axe. Sheik ducked beneath a savage blow from its gauntleted hand, and then the giant monstrosity turned its attention on Link. He ducked low, cursing as the Iron Knuckle came within inches of splattering him against the wall with its gauntlet.
A stream of fire billowed through the air beside him as Sheik unleashed a column of flame towards Kotake's phantom. Link darted to the side, rolling and slashing at the Iron Knuckle's heavy armor. His sword connected with the armour without leaving so much as a scratch. Instead, Link only succeeded in annoying the creature. Before he realized what was happening, it smacked him hard in the gut, sending him flying. His head connected painfully with the stone wall, and he tumbled limply to the ground, lights dancing across his vision.
He heard Koume screech and then saw Sheik darting towards the Iron Knuckle, ducking low to avoid its fist. She barely dodged the blow that struck her knife, spinning it out of her hand and away from her. Before Sheik could react, the Iron Knuckle grabbed her by the throat, lifting her into the air.
Sheik clawed at the gauntlet , the Triforce of Wisdom glowing brightly upon her hand. Link tried to rise to her aid, but his efforts were stifled by a sudden rush of pain and vertigo. Apparently, that slap hadn't been nearly as sloppy as he'd thought. Dimly, he was aware of Farore's Essence stirring inside of him, beckoning him to use its power. He didn't heed it for fear of loosing control. Then, realizing he had little choice, he cautiously drew a little of its power, enough that his headache began to recede.
"Release her!" Koume screamed at the Iron Knuckle. Whatever Sheik was doing, it had the witch alarmed. "Now!"
The Iron Knuckle obeyed, and just as Link got to his feet, the knight dropped Sheik like a sack. A cylindrical wall of light flashed into existence around her. Another barrier.
Sheik was still coughing, grasping her throat and gazing at the Iron Knuckle with a strange expression.
The Iron Knuckle turned away from her, and only then did it finally remember its axe. It snatched up the weapon easily, its attention now fixed on Link.
As the colossal suit of armor moved towards him, Link cursed.
Clank, clank, clank...
"Link, run for it!" Navi cried.
He bolted out of the way, and the axe came crashing down, carving up the stone.
The witches watched with rapt attention, chuckling as Link ran on unsteady feet, leaping and ducking to avoid the Iron Knuckle's blows.
There must be a way to take this thing down, he thought, a weakness he could exploit. Could he lure it into attacking the witches? No, they'd just fly out of harm's way. At least the knight was slow.
"Hehe, Kotake. I don't think he will last long." Koume said cheerily. "I'm surprised he even made it this far. I was hoping our little game might end him."
"Perhaps we should have made it harder, sis?"
"Let's see if he survives this first."
Angered by the witch's sadistic enjoyment of this, Link was tempted to send a blast of magic in her direction.
No, no magic, he reminded himself, not wanting to tire from using too much.
He looked around for anything that might help, backing into a column and then darting out of the way again as the axe slammed into the floor. He could just attack the witches, and if quick enough, break their control over the monstrosity.
Link's thoughts turned to the columns, and he thought of something. He'd just have to hope the witches didn't figure out what he was doing in time to stop him.
He jumped around the column, letting the axe hack it as the Iron Knuckle gave chase.
"What is he doing?" Kotake wondered as Link continued luring the Knuckle into attacking the column.
Huge chunks were ripped from the column from the axe's blows.
The column wobbled, and that was when the witches realized Link's plan. They both conjured brooms out of thin air and darted towards him. Mirror Shield in hand, Link blocked Kotake's attack, letting it rebound into the Iron Knuckle to no avail. Koume sent a flurry of flames roaring towards him, while her sister darted around from the side, sending a blast of ice at Link's back.
Navi shouted a warning, and Link deftly avoided the frigid blast. As Koume cast fire, Link went from freezing to warm as if he had a fever. Koume's fire hit the Mirror Shield and rebounded, slamming into the pillar and sending an explosion of rock tumbling forward. The remainder of the pillar cracked, teetering and crashing into the Iron Knuckle with a thunderous roar.
Link's elation at finishing the Iron Knuckle didn't last. It wasn't moving beneath the crumbling stone, yet the witches didn't seem remotely upset by its demise. Far from annoyed, they were amused.
"Hehe, I guess we won't be using her anymore." Koume cackled. "Poor Nabooru. She was such fun to brainwash."
Link was confused, but after catching the look on Sheik's face, he knew something was horribly wrong. His eyes shifted from the witches towards the Iron Knuckle's crumpled armor.
"You were looking for the Sage of Spirit weren't you?" Koume asked. "Well, that was her you just squashed."
"You're lying!" Link accused them, anger boiling inside of him.
"We're not lying. Your Sheikah friend worked it out, but you can't hear her beyond that little prison of ours," Kotake said, laughing.
Sheik's dismayed look was enough confirmation for Link. He looked back at the Iron Knuckle as he tried registering the gravity of his actions. A part of him wondered if it wasn't too late: the armor looked strong enough to withstand the worst of the stone's force. If he could free Nabooru, and she was still alive, could they send her to the Sacred Realm just like Darunia? It was a slim chance, but a hopeful one nonetheless.
The witches didn't leave him time to ponder.
Koume chuckled, her laugh infuriating him. Even though they weren't the real witches, Link knew what her counterpart had done. He remembered Arden, his own torture, and the sorceress' callous disregard for the lives of others. The power of his heavenly gift, recently awakened, beckoned to him. If he concentrated enough, Farore's power could become his, and he could kill the phantoms in an instant. It was an enticing thought, and Link almost yielded to it. Only the fear of meddling with a power he barely understood stopped him from using it.
Link clenched the Master Sword tighter in his hand until his fingers were numb.
"Oooh, he's angry sis," Koume crowed, a gleeful grin on her face. "He wants to play serious, does he? We can do that."
Enraged by their jeering tone, Link charged forward with a snarl. The Master Sword cleaved through the air, aiming straight for Koume. It only met air as the witches darted out of the way, cackling wildly.
"Damn it," Link hissed under his breath.
"Are you attempting to fight us or entertain us?" Kotake asked, her voice dripping with mockery. "You could at least try to aim properly."
Link spun around, the Master Sword's blade now wreathed in flames as he tried to split Kotake's broomstick in two. He missed.
"Aww, look. He can't hit us, sis!" Kotake cackled. "Maybe we can brainwash him too?"
"I've got another idea," Koume yelled as though this was merely a game.
The sorceress sisters met in mid-air, their brooms stopping short of a colliding as Link whirled around, inent on attacking them again. Only they were too high up. Before he could consider channeling more fire, despite its precariousness, the two witches began talking animatedly to each other.
Fearing it was an incantation, and likely not a pleasant one, Link braced himself to unleash a blast of fire into Kotake.
Before he could act, a bright flash of light erupted in front of him. Link yelled in pain, throwing his shield up in front of him to cover his face. Once the dazzling light faded, he lowered the shield an inch, blinking away the spots that blossomed across his vision.
"What?" he gasped.
He was sure he'd been knocked silly.
A nine-foot-tall woman hovered by the door, a wicked smile on her face as she winked. Half of her braided her was flaming red while the other half was white. Instead of broomsticks, the woman held scimitars, one alight with flames, and the other resembling an icy shard of glass.
"What is that?" Navi exclaimed in astonishment.
"I was going to ask you," Link answered.
He took one look at the red and blue jewel glittering on the woman's forehead before the two swords carved through the air. Fire danced around the red scimitar's edges as it twirled through the air. It met the Mirror Shield while Link fended off the second blade with the Master Sword. Sparks sprayed from the red scimitar's blow, and Link cursed as its heat washed over him.
The witch, or whatever this monstrosity was, forced Link towards one column. Back and forth they danced, blades crashing in a deadly flurry. Link's arms ached from the constant effort of blocking both scimitars, and despite his efforts, he was no closer to stabbing the woman. Sheik watched, unable to do anything from behind the barrier. If he was going to save Nabooru, assuming she was still alive, he needed to act fast.
He feared to channel fire now; it would only exhaust him faster. Unable to see any alternative, he backed into a column and ducked away, letting a wreath of flames engulf his sword. Cleaving it through the air, he struck the ice scimitar. It shattered, and the witch's laughter turned to a raging shriek.
He pushed his shield into the other blade. More sparks flew, and the woman screamed as the Master Sword nicked her side. Link almost gagged at the smell of burning flesh.
She sent a blast of ice in his direction, but Link dodged as it streaked across the floor. The witch was expecting this and quickly shot another blast of ice to his other side just as Link sidestepped the previous spell. Link's heart skipped a beat. He gasped as the spell hit the floor beside him, entrapping his foot and the Master Sword in ice. Steam hissed off the sword, but it wasn't enough to melt the ice, and only Impa's ring spares him any permanent damage.
There was no time to break himself free, and the witch conjured the scimitars with a mirthful laugh. Her blades crossed as she aimed them towards his neck. His shield blocked the ice scimitar, but the other one still wreathed in flames, carved through the air towards his neck.
Suddenly, the blade froze mere inches from his throat. Stunned, Link looked up in time to see Navi viciously attacking the gem on the witch's forehead. She was pulling with all her might, trying to dislodge the glowing stone.
"Navi!" Link screamed, trying to call her away.
Both scimitars disappeared as the witch aimed a slap at Navi. The fairy wrenched the gem free, the hand that went to strike her missing by inches. The barrier imprisoning Sheik disappeared, and she reacted immediately. Fire blossomed through the air, crashing into the witch before she could try and belt Navi again.
The witch screamed, her face twisting in an angry snarl as the flames receded.
"Link, hold still!" Sheik shouted before the witch could attack again.
"I'm not going anywhere in a hurry!" Link yelled, still partly encased in ice. Exactly what Sheik meant became clear when she sent a river of liquid flames crashing into him. Link gasped in astonishment and fell as the ice melted.
"Could you warn me next time?" he asked.
Sheik ignored him.
He got up while Navi threw the witch's gem to Sheik. She darted away from the fist that nearly clenched around her.
Behind them, the Iron Knuckle stirred, somehow pushing the stone off itself. Its armor was cracked in several places, but it was still very much alive and very, very dangerous.
Oh Goddesses, Link thought. This was going to get very difficult if Nabooru still regarded him as a foe.
He shouted a warning to Sheik as two ordinary blades appeared in the witch's hands. The hag was weaker but also far from helpless. She snarled, charging at Sheik while Link attacked her from the side.
He rose his sword, ready to plunge it into the witch's side when the sorceress suddenly jerked violently, her eyes bulging violently as the blade of an axe sliced into her back.
"That's for my sister, you bitch!"
Nabooru stood behind the witch, an expression of unmistakable rage on her face. Her strike was awkward, but it was enough to sever muscle and bone. Panting with the effort, Nabooru tossed the axe aside and then watched as the witch fell to the stone in an ungraceful heap.
"Nabooru," Link gasped. "I thought you were dead."
Before Nabooru could reply, a white flash blinded them all. Nabooru swore, and when Link could see again, Koume and Kotake were hovering on their broomsticks, staring at him with rage burning in their eyes. That was when Link noticed something odd; both witches were transparent, and there was a halo above their heads.
"All right," Koume snarled, her face as red as her hair. "This time, we'll get serious..." she hesitated after catching her sister staring at her. "What are you looking at?"
"You're transparent." Kotake stammered.
"Yeah, and so are you!" Koume said snappishly. "You've even got a halo above you."
They went uncharacteristically quiet as they pondered the meaning of this, their eyes going even wider than they already were.
"I'm dead? That's impossible. I'm only four hundred years old." Kotake blurted, looking down at herself and then up at her halo.
"I'm only three hundred and eighty," Koume wailed.
"We're twins! Don't lie about your age!" Kotake snapped at her.
"Well, you must have gone senile!"
"Who are you calling senile? That's no way to treat your older sister!"
Their voices rose to a screeching howl.
"Older? We're twins you idiot! How can you be older?" Kotake shouted.
"Don't call me an idiot, you heartless cow!" Koume shrieked.
Link, Navi, Nabooru, and Sheik stared with equally befuddled expressions. Link wondered whether he could end the argument by blasting Kotake with fire when a white portal shimmered into existence above the two witches.
Oblivious to the portal drawing them towards its hungry maw, the witches kept arguing.
"How can you be so rude? I'm your sister!"
"You're the one that's being rude. Not me!"
Navi made a disgruntled noise as the witches inched closer to the portal.
"No, you're rude! Just wait and I'll turn you into a-"
"Just shut it will you!" Kotake screamed.
"I hate you, Kotake!"
"Good!" Kotake turned her icy gaze towards Link. "I still have some unfinished business with this brat down here."
"Yeah, we'll get you," Koume yelled, stabbing a finger at Link.
"We'll haunt you!"
"Cya, grannies," Nabooru called out to them.
The portal swallowed the witches whole. They were gone, leaving Link in a daze as his ears rang in a painful protest. The portal vanished, and a blissful silence fell over the room.
"Thank the three, I thought they were never going to shut up," Navi exclaimed.
"You have no idea," Nabooru said, sounding weary. Sheik and Link turned to her, still astonished she was unharmed.
"How did you... we thought you were dead?" Link exclaimed.
"Takes more than that to kill an Iron Knuckle," said Nabooru, kicking a piece of the armor. "The suits enchanted, making the wearer stronger. You did give me a damned headache, though, kid." She fixed a pointed look at Link, but there was nothing sinister in her grin. "I'm impressed. You've become quite the fighter since I last saw you, even if you don't play by the rules."
"You were trying to kill me!"
"Fair point." Nabooru grinned. "Ordinarily when dueling an Iron Knuckle, you are not allowed to use any form of magic... but I think we'll dispense with that tradition for once."
"Nabooru, what's the last thing you remember?" Sheik asked, sounding worried.
Nabooru's expression grew dark. "If you're concerned about my sanity, Princess, I remember everything after the witches captured me."
"Then you know what we're up against?" Sheik asked. She sounded surprised, as though expecting Nabooru to have no memory of the past few years.
"Yes, I know," Nabooru said, her expression troubled. "I wanted to help, but it felt like I was trapped inside my own head, the witches controlling my every action."
Her voice was dark, and Nabooru grimaced, no doubt lost for a moment amidst her memories. Link had a vague inkling what that was like, having been briefly possessed by a demon made in his image.
"You've been here the whole time?" he asked.
"Not the whole time," Nabooru said with a grimace. "A tinker family took me in when I escaped, but I wasn't entirely free of Twinrova's influence. For a long time, I couldn't remember who I was or how I'd gotten there. Eventually, the witches found me."
"The tinkers?" Sheik asked, sounding disturbed.
"I think we both know what happened to them," Nabooru said darkly. "It was only recently that I remembered who I was, or what had happened, but I wasn't able to shake off Twinrova's control. Not completely. I guess I have you to thank for that."
"Then you'll help us?" Sheik asked.
Nabooru met her eyes, expression troubled. It was then Link had a horrible thought: what if Nabooru refused to become a sage?
"If you can promise me one thing, princess," Nabooru said.
"What is your price?" Sheik asked cautiously.
"Ganondorf was blind. I know the Sheikah dwelling in our homeland were attempting to find a cure for the curse that has decimated my people," Nabooru said. She turned away from them, as though contemplating something. "They were close to finding a cure before Ganondorf slaughtered them. What I want, Zelda Nohansen, is for you to finish what they started. Help me save my people." She spun around, her eyes fierce.
"Of course," Sheik replied, sounding sympathetic. "I'll do everything I can, I promise. You can hold me to that."
Nabooru nodded. "Thank you."
"You'll help us then?" Link asked.
"You can thank me by helping me clean up the mess our king left us with," Nabooru said. She snorted before declaring, "Men. They make a mess then leave the rest of us to clean up...No offense, kid."
"None taken," Link replied, not missing Navi's agreeing nod.
Nabooru glanced back down at the Iron Knuckle's broken armor. She picked up a gauntlet, turning it over in her hand. "A shame the gems infused into this suit wear out quickly. It might have come in handy. Thanks for getting rid of those witches, I'm glad I have a chance to help make things right. We'll make Ganondorf pay for what he's done."
"We need to find the medallion first," said Sheik. "Do you know where it is?"
Nabooru fished a hand into a pocket of her breeches, pulling out a medallion held upon a chain. It was the color of sand, with a tiny diamond fixed within its center. "I found it right before the witches caught me. They let me keep it as a mockery that I could not use it despite having it in my possession."
"It won't work unless you accept the position of a Sage," said Sheik. "Rauru would have to perform the rites. That means traveling to the Sacred Realm until it's time for the Sages to fight."
"I understand," Nabooru replied. "But, I don't intend to travel to the Sacred Realm until I have appointed someone to lead in my absence. Once I have, I will travel to this Sacred Realm. Just don't expect me to sit around for ages."
"It won't be for long," Sheik assured her.
"Better not be," Nabooru said, putting the medallion around her neck. "The witches, or their phantoms, did let me know one thing before you came. A company of Gerudo is approaching the temple. The witches intended to brainwash them by a more permanent means, amongst other things."
Her voice became angry, and Link couldn't help but feel a trickle of fear. Gerudo, coming here? His fear must have shown on his face because Nabooru added. "No need to look so worried, I believe Aveil leads them, and she won't harm you."
"She's alive?" Sheik asked.
Nabooru nodded. "Yes, following you probably. It must be your good looks," Nabooru smiled wickedly, and Link went red with embarrassment.
"Nabooru, is that really appropriate?" Sheik asked, sounding deeply unamused.
"Come now, Zelda," Nabooru said, turning to her. "I think you've been holding onto that facade of yours a bit too long."
Sheik didn't reply, still staring in disapproval before scooping up her sword from the floor. Nabooru started walking towards the door, with Link, Sheik, and Navi staring after her.
"If you have finished staring at me," Nabooru said, without turning around. "We have work to do."
Sheik seemed startled, as though stunned that Nabooru was acting as her superior. Link didn't realize he was grinning until Sheik scowled at him.
"I'm going," he said quickly and then started for the door. At last, they could leave. Link was certain of one thing: this was one temple he would never be making a pilgrimage to.
~ 0 ~
The previous night...
It was always quiet inside the Kakariko Village graveyard. Some said this place was cursed. Those who grew up in Kakariko could recall stories of how the spirits of the dead would sometimes wander aimlessly from their graves, beholding a world that had long since forgotten them. Their whispers carried upon the wind, bringing nightmares to some. Of all the legends surrounding the graveyard, the Shadow Temple's origins were amongst the most popular. Few dared to go near 'the ancient house of the dead.' Those that did often spoke of hearing ceaseless moans from the denizens within.
Nonsense, Grog thought irritably. It was nothing but superstition; a sentiment that Grog shared with his father. More than once, Grog could recall his father, a carpenter whose enormous build caused some locals to nickname him Goro, scoffed at the idea that this graveyard was cursed.
The evening rain finally stopped, the ground now resembling a slushy mire. Grog sat upon his tree stump, adjusting the mask on his face. He was blind. His pupil-less, milky-white eyes and his gaunt, ghoulish appearance terrified everyone. After losing his sight as a boy, Grog was given the mask by a peddler. Now, it was the only way he could see. The mask fascinated Grog, and even to this day, he wondered where the peddler came across such a mysterious object.
Grog had been sitting on the stump for hours. He preferred it out here, for the village was too crowded these days.
Are they always so loud?
The Gorons were wrestling inside the village square, at least those who weren't drinking were. Grog was sure this ruckus could be heard from as far as Lanaryu Province up north. Each time they started a new round, the Gorons roared their encouragement to the two combatants, likely deafening any Hylians within the vicinity. Grog was sure he'd heard the worst of it until several drunk Gorons attempted to sing. The noise would have made the dead turn in their graves. It was no wonder that the village animals were so unsettled tonight.
The cause of celebrations was on everyone's lips. The Gerudo had left Kakariko and even fled from the monolith at the heart of Castletown's ruins. The word was that the Gerudo had turned on their king. There were at least several minstrels in the tavern claiming to know the full tale. At least one of these travelling storytellers spoke of a knight in green who'd slain the dragon on Death Mountain, before going on to confront the Gerudo king. It was probably the talk of the town by now, not that Grog was interested.
Grog hated festivals and celebrations of all sorts, and the graveyard was the only solstice from the annoying racket. He apparently wasn't the only one seeking some quiet, for the sight of a red-haired girl took him by surprise. She was singing a sweet, but melancholic melody, and nearly jumped in fright when she spotted him. She quickly excused herself, uttering something about checking on some horses and disappeared. Grog frightened her, mostly due to his unkempt appearance, and the fact he always wore a mask. He didn't care.
As the night wore on, the merriment died down, Gorons and Hylians alike turning to their beds.
It must have been well past midnight when two men dressed in brightly colored jumpers strode into the graveyard. Both bore a shovel over one shoulder, humming merrily to themselves.
"Hey Bryson, I'm not so sure we should dig this close to the royal tomb. They say it's cursed," said the taller man.
Bryson didn't turn, holding up his lantern while stopping to read the inscription on one grave. "Pfft... people always believe that superstitious nonsense about Royal Tombs. My brother swears he saw the King of Hyrule's ghost."
"Really? As in King Nohansen's ghost?"
"Yeah, didn't believe him, though. He reckons the Sheikah have a three-headed dog in a cave beneath the village too. Three-headed dog... pfftt... the man was drunk if you ask me."
Aaron looked utterly petrified at the idea of running into the ghost of Hyrule's deceased monarch or a canine with three heads. His friend chuckled.
"We'll be fine. Only scary thing is old Grog over there." The man gestured over at Grog.
Go hug a ReDead, Grog thought irritably. Deciding retaliation wasn't worth it, he reached into the pouch tied around his waist and munched on a few nuts. They'd get bored and go away soon, he told himself.
Soon, the harsh scraping sound of metal against rock grated against Grog's ear as the men dug around one of the graves, looking for something.
He ignored it for a short while, but then the noise became too annoying.
"How many times do I have to tell you two? You will not find some buried treasure!" Grog told them. They ignored him. Idiots.
It wasn't the first time. The Sheikah were said to have buried treasures of immense value within the graveyard. If the sorcerers buried something of value, Grog was certain they would have made sure it could not be obtained easily. They weren't known for openly sharing their magic talents.
SCRAPE! SCRAPE ! SCRAPE!
The noise was getting really irritating.
SCRAPE ...CRACK!
There was odd grinding sound coming from somewhere within the graveyard. Aaron and Bryson stared at each other, and even Grog turned in the direction of the sound.
What was that?
"That wasn't me..." Aaron said.
"What was it then?" Bryson asked.
It sounded like a stone being ground and broken by a giant Goron's teeth.
CRACK!
The second crack unnerved Grog. It was a most unnatural sound.
"It's coming from over there," Aaron said, pointing at the enormous stone slab with the ancient Sheikah emblem etched upon it.
Aaron stepped back, looking worried.
They probably thought a ghost was playing a trick on them, Grog thought. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. He jumped off his stump, strode past the crumbling stone dais, and towards the Sheikah emblem. The eye carved into the smooth stone was surrounded by a ring of arcane runes that bore little meaning to Grog.
"Hey, Grog...I wouldn't go near that," Aaron called to him.
"Scared, are you?" Grog asked. He squinted, noticing a fissure running down the stone and straight through the center of the eye.
Odd...
"I bet there are all sorts of nasty things in there," Aaron warned.
Bryson laughed. "Probably just spiders." He overcame his fear and walked over to Grog. "What is it?"
"The stone, it's...cracked..." Grog told him.
The stone was made of an ancient material used by the Sheikah. It was unbreakable, or so they said.
"Wooo!" Bryson made a wail like a ghost and guffawed. Grog wondered if he even knew what kind of noise a Poe made because their cackling laughter sounded nothing like that.
"That's not funny, Bryson!" Aaron said angrily.
"Wooo!" Bryson wailed again.
The dogs in the village howled. They knew something was wrong.
CRACK!
The fissure spread as spider-web-like cracks wove their way through the stone.
The stories said it could never break, Grog thought.
Bryson stopped his imitation of a ghost, no longer laughing.
The echoing sound of cracking came again, followed by a deep rumble. Dust and crumbs of stone fell from the slab. Even Grog took a step back.
"Uh... maybe we should get out of here," Aaron suggested.
Grog had to agree with him. Maybe it was the frenzied howls of dogs, but he knew there was something very wrong.
The stone slab crumbled before their eyes. There was a sound akin to something scratching at the stone before the slab exploded. Grog and Aaron were flung away from the ancient seal. Bits of rock flew over them, and a choking cloud of dust billowed into the air.
Bryson was more fortunate than the others. He managed to avoid the rock blast flying outward from the door. He held up his lantern where the stone seal should have been. It was gone, leaving a gaping hole in its place. Grog expected the lantern's light to touch the tunnel's walls. Instead, it only reached darkness. An impenetrable black fog stood in front of them, its thick tendrils extending like fingers towards the cave's mouth.
An intense cold sensation swept across them, seeping through Grog's skin and turning his marrow to ice.
The others paled. Grog turned to run, shivering violently. A low moan rumbled through the cave's entrance. The others hadn't noticed yet, less accustomed to relying on only their ears than Grog was. It was a hideous and pitiful moan akin to a dying animal. He could hear a second one, followed by a third.
"What in Farore's name is that?" Aaron cried.
Instinct told Grog to run, but he stood as though in a trance.
A tall, emaciated figure the size and shape of a human, loomed through the bizarre, ebony fog. It was a husk of gray, leathery, and petrified skin. Its eyes were pits, blacker than the darkness from which the creature crawled.
Holy mother of Din!
Aaron opened his mouth to scream as the lumbering creature slowly withdrew itself from the tunnel. The beast's deep rumbling groans grew louder, right before it let out a shriek.
The ear-piercing scream was terrifying, a hellish howl of a soul damned to the underworld.
Aaron stood frozen as the creature slowly closed the gap between them, his mouth open in a soundless scream.
Run...
Grog stepped back. Bryson let out a shriek of his own, unfortunately attracting a second ReDead's attention.
Oh, Goddesses...mercy...
"What are you two doing!? RUN!" Grog yelled to the two men.
They didn't respond, nor were they even blinking. Their limbs were stiffer than a petrified mummy. Grog quickly recalled hearing how ReDead's could paralyze their prey.
By looking into their eyes...
That's why he wasn't paralyzed, Grog realized. He was blind.
The ReDead's seemed to recognize there was something odd about him, focusing their attention on Aaron and Bryson.
Oh, Goddesses.
He tried yanking Aaron back, but the tall man was too heavy, and no amount of budging moved him. The ReDead inched closer...
Come on... MOVE!
A second later, the first ReDead opened its mouth, grasping Aaron by the shoulder and sinking its yellow teeth into his neck. It tore through flesh and blood dripped from the wound. For a second, the ReDead broke eye contact with its victim, and Aaron was aware of what was happening. He screamed, trying to struggle free. Grog fell backward, stumbling over his own feet. His heart hammered in his chest as he held back a scream of his own.
The other monsters shrieked, crooning at the scent of blood. More ReDead spilled out the cave. Grog jumped up, seizing his chance to save Bryson. Desperately trying to avoid the nauseating sight of Aaron being eaten alive, the ReDead's noisy eating making his stomach thick with nausea, he darted to Bryson before another ReDead could reach him. Quickly, he clasped a hand over Bryson's eyes.
"What are you doing?" Bryson shrieked, waving like somebody just discovering their cloak was on fire.
"Hold still!" Grog hissed, watching as another ReDead came trudging towards them. He wrenched the lantern out of Bryson's hand and threw it straight at the ReDead.
Oil splashed from the lantern as glass shattered, and within seconds, the oil caught aflame. The ReDead let out its most horrid scream yet as it became wreathed in flames.
Let it burn... please, let it burn.
The others paused from their meal, allowing their victim's body to fall into the mud.
They all shrieked at seeing their companion fall. It thrashed, twisting in agony as the fire consumed it. Before either Grog or Bryson could move, the other ReDead lumbered towards them.
Goddesses no... no... no, please...
He'd only made things worse.
Din... Farore... Nayru... please... MERCY
Grog tried pulling the heavier man away from the ReDead, but Bryson flailed in a moment of panic, striking Grog hard across the cheek, and sending him stumbling away.
"Stop!" Grog shouted. "I'm trying to help you!"
It was too late. Bryson's eyes were drawn to the grisly sight of his friend's body, and then the ReDead's, their teeth still stained crimson.
"Don't look!" Grog screamed.
A second later, Bryson went rigid. Before Grog could reach him, one ReDead wrapped its arms around him in a lethal embrace. Grog looked away, bile rising in his throat.
He was only vaguely aware that more creatures were coming for him, limbs reaching as their horrid moans rumbled through the night. One clamped a cold, clammy hand onto his shoulder. His scream almost outdid the ReDead's own. He stumbled and nearly fell, wrenching himself free of the monster's grasp.
Grog was hyperventilating now, his mind reeling as the putrid stench of decay pervaded his nose and made him retch.
Moving on wobbly legs, he screamed, yelling himself hoarse as he broke into a run. He moved through the gates of the graveyard, away from the bodies, and away from the ReDeads.
"ReDeads, ReDeads in the graveyard!"
The only answer was the living dead's deep incessant groans.
He ran past the windmill and the well beyond it. He had to get away. Whether the hideous moans following him were imagined or real, he could not tell.
CRUNCH...
Grog's reality became a hazy world of pain as he smashed straight into a gigantic boulder in the middle of the road. He bounced off it, slamming hard onto the ground.
Grog was so delirious from fright that he didn't comprehend how peculiar it was to find a boulder in the middle of the road.
He looked up in time to see the boulder move. He was too far gone to comprehend how strange this was, or even notice it was not a boulder at all.
A pair of apologetic eyes peered down at him. "Oh, I'm sorry..." the Goron began before noticing the expression on Grog's face. "What is the matter?"
"ReDeads..." he gasped. "ReDeads... in the graveyard."
His slim hold on consciousness failed, and he slipped away into a blissful darkness.
