The battlefield has gone quiet; all the demons having fled after Ghirahim's defeat. The golden army that had routed them has also vanished.
Zelda and the remaining Sheikah are alone, and Link is-is...dead.
Zelda kneels beside him; there is a gentle, terrible smile on his face, a peace that she had never seen, present at last, in death.
Her heart is iron in her chest. This is what Hylia had shown her, what she had forgotten until now. There must always be a sacrifice in Our battle against evil, the Goddess had said, Her Sorrow evident on Her face as She had spoken. Hyruen has walked this path before, and it is his fate to walk it again. I am sorry, my brave Spirit Maiden, that is must be so. It is you who will take up the Sword in the end.
"Zelda?" Impa asks, kneeling next to her. The Sheikah's face is blurred by Zelda's tears, a blob of blue and gold.
"It's not fair!" Zelda sobs, the words like knives in her heart, "It's not fair!"
"Nothing in life is fair," Impa says, and her arms pull Zelda to her, a warm embrace that just makes Zelda cry harder.
There is a flicker of movement, a shifting of color, and Zelda blinks back her tears, peering over.
Link's hair...is now white, pale as freshly fallen snow.
A sharp, rasping breath is drawn in, and he coughs, opening grey eyes.
"Link?" Zelda gasps, a sound that is echoed by Impa.
"-hey, Zel," Link says, "Sorry I'm late."
"Sleepyhead,'' Zelda scoffs through her tears, "you scared me. I thought-!"
"I know," Link says, grimacing as he sits up, pressing a hand to his chest. "Ooh, I'm gonna feel that in the morning."
"How are you even alive?!" Zelda asks. "I saw-"
And again she can see him, suspended by Ghirahim, the sword point protruding from his back, blood seeping through his armor.
Link winces. "You can thank Hylia, and the Three for that. They called it a boon for my work."
Zelda sniffles, squinting. "Your hair's gone white, you know."
Link makes a miffed sound, peering at one strand between his fingers, a long aggrieved sigh escaping him. "I can hear the jokes about me being an old man now," he says, grinning at her and the sight of his smile, familiar and kind reassures her.
Zelda can sense there is something different about him, an air of something she can't quite understand yet.
"Please don't do that again, Link," Zelda says, brushing away her tears, trying not to sniffle again, "You're my best friend. I don't want to say goodbye to you until we're old and grey."
"I'm already half-way there," Link says dryly, "seeing as my hair is white now."
"You know what I mean," Zelda says, hugging him.
"I know, Zel," Link says, "I know."
"Good," Zelda says, clinging to him, voice quivering. "Just so you know."
"I do," Link says softly, so softly that she can barely hear him, one hand patting her back.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," Link says quietly. No doubt she had heard that terrible choking rattle of his breath leaving him, seen the sudden stillness that comes to a body in death, felt that ungovernable rage intermingled with sorrow.
Link has felt it before.
He looks over at Impa who gives him a nod, a quiet kind of understanding passing between them.
"Glad to see you're sticking around," she says, standing up, surveying the area.
Link offers her a wry smile which fades as he looks around the battlefield. Patches of grass still smoke, the earth blackened and dark from where Ghirahim had caused fire to scorch the land.
The scent of blood and ash hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, but just a moment, Link is on a very different battlefield, littered with Hylian dead and the cries of the injured and dying ring in his ears.
Then he blinks and the sight is gone.
"Do you know where my sword went?" he asks, wondering if it had in fact been left on the River's bank as he had seen before.
"It's over there somewhere," Zelda says, voice muffled in Link's shoulder, one hand waving vaguely eastwards.
Link pats her shoulder and stands up, ignoring Zelda's protests as she is dragged with.
There is a pull in the center of his chest, a call that he cannot deny. He is a God of warriors, of battle, and the Master Sword calls to him, forged as it was in his own mortal heart's blood.
"Fidelis," he says quietly, gently untangling Zelda's vicelike grip on his shoulders. "Are you there?"
I am here, Hyruen, Fidelis replies, the voice of the spirit faint and tired. Link follows the call, finding the Master Sword, her blade rammed into the earth, glowing with the remnants of Hylia's power.
He clasps the hilt, kneeling, head bowed, eyes closed.
You have become something More, Fidelis says. I am glad you survive.
It was not without a cost, Fidelis, Link says. Are you alright?
I am very tired, Fidelis admits. Still the shards of Demise's power linger within the blade and I must sleep to purify them so none can remain.
Sleep? Link asks, For how long?
For eternity, Fidelis says, voice thin and fraying. I will sleep as you tread the paths between the worlds of the Gods, until calamity swallows this world, and even then, my voice will be faint to any who would wield the sword again.
Link swallows back a cry of sorrow, stifles the tears that threaten to break free.
Please don't weep for me, Hyruen, Fidelis says. I am happy to have walked beside you in this Quest, and to have aided you in what ways I could. You are…my friend.
Fidelis…I-you are one of my dearest friends, Link says, and his tears finally fall.
In his mind, he can hear the faintest of melodies, as Fidelis sings their final, soaring song. Beneath him, and around the blade, white magnolias grow, glistening with morning dew, swaying gently.
Fare thee well, O God of Warriors, my dear friend, Fidelis whispers and there is a quiet emptiness where the spirit had once dwelt.
"Link..." Zelda says from beside him.
Link says nothing, all his rage and sorrow welling up inside him, a storm without an escape. He grasps the hilt of the Master Sword, drawing it free.
"Fidelis will sleep," Link says with a calm he does not feel. "Our victory did not come without cost."
Zelda is watching him carefully. "No victory does."
Link nods, throat tight.
"Come on, Link," she says, taking hold of his elbow, guiding him away, up towards the temple where the sun is setting behind its tall spires.
Link doesn't remember much after that, it's a haze of grief and weariness. He comes back to himself as the moon begins to rise, Zelda placing a bowl of thin soup in his hands, her eyes concerned.
"Sorry," Link says quietly, "I didn't mean to drift."
"You came back," Zelda says, the words holding more weight than Link thinks they're meant to. "That's what matters."
"Yes," Link says, and he cannot help glancing over to where the Master Sword lies, sheathed once more.
"Hylia told me of what would happen," Zelda says, settling beside him, holding her own bowl in her hands, idly stirring a wooden spoon through. "Of what the cost would be to defeat the Demon King. That's what I saw, and what I forgot."
Link nods.
"She had Her reasons," he says.
"Doesn't mean I have to like them," Zelda says.
"True," Link says, "Your opinions are your own."
"What do we do now?" Zelda asks, looking up at the rising full moon.
Link considers the thought, following her gaze. A full moon after a successful victory is a good omen, he knows.
Oh god of warriors, lord of thunder, a voice whispers in his ear, a petition in a world apart, grant me strength. Grant me courage as I face those who seek to crush our people.
Link closes his eyes, idly granting his blessing, "I think," he says, focusing once more on Zelda, "I would like to travel. See what the world has come to in the long centuries. What do you think?"
Zelda sighs. "I don't know. I want to see Skyloft again, I want to see Father and everyone, to let them know that we're safe. It's...a lot. Knowing that our Quest is done."
"We've done so much in such a short amount of time-" Link says, pausing as another petition comes to his ears, dark and harsher than the last. He considers it-then turns it aside, adding a sharp dismissal with it. Reaching out with his power, he finds the opposing petitioner and grants them a blessing instead. Their cause is more worthy, a battle to free those trapped in slaver's chains is more righteous than one to keep those imprisoned.
"Link?" Zelda prompts him.
"I think that we need time, more than anything," Link says, "We've faced creatures and trials that our friends back home never had to. We've changed, Zelda. And I think we might not be able to quite fit into life at Skyloft in the same way that we did before."
"I know," Zelda says with a sigh. "Do you think...that we might be able to build a life down here, like the Sheikah have done?"
"Maybe," Link says, looking around the clearing. Sheikah are gathered in small groups, scattered about fires, and a few more stand guard over the shroud-wrapped bodies of their fallen soldiers.
There is a low murmur of talk, and Link catches the threads of conversations here and there, mostly about what they will do next, if the Skyloftians might return to the world below, thanks to Hylia that many have survived…
"Who knows what the future will bring?" he says quietly.
"We'll find out together," Zelda says.
Link smiles. "Together."
In time, a legend arises from the land that is named Hyrule, a legend of the first Heroes, of a young boy and a young girl who stood against a darkness that had threatened the world.
With the aid of a Goddess who stands at the edge of time and a spirit made of Light, the boy and the girl returned the power of the Old Gods to the land and defeated a Great Evil.
The girl became a great leader and the boy her stalwart protector. They guided their people back from the skies to return to the land of their birth, founding the land of Hyrule.
And it is said, along the shores of Lake Floria, on days when the winds blow clear from the east, and the sun shines warm and bright, you can hear the song of the Spirit Maiden and her Champion whistling through the reeds.