Chapter 22
Echo of inflicted Evil
Two days passed since the last time Link contacted him and the King of Red Lions agitatedly paddled in the water. He imagined Link to be wasting away, in front of the stone tablet bearing the Command Melody or doing something worse in his despair. The boat did not know how the child operated but clearly he did not have the same expertise and drive as Hyrule's Link.
Sighing and with a weary creak of salt scoured planks, the craft sailed into yellow sunshine and continued till he could clearly see the top of the Tower of Gods. Alabaster white, the cylindrical domicile glimmered like an elaborate salt quarry. The sun reached its zenith and shone blindingly while to the far south; Cyclos unleashed its wrath on a poor, inhabited island.
A melodious peal shattered the seagull squawks and the red boat stopped, astonishment forcing him to squint at the top of the tower. Another peal vibrated through the air and nature stopped to listen.
The echoing sounds barely subsided when another gong resonated with the beat of his nonexistent heart. Everything froze in time, holding its breath and celebrating the birth of a new hero. The bell rings eventually petered into a serene silence but it continued to play endlessly in Daphnes' mind.
Long live the new Hero of Winds.
Long live Link. He prayed and urgently rowed back to the tunnel.
Gohdan eyed the boy critically. "Your answer is wrong," the guardian whispered but the words shattered Link.
His visage broke like a crushed tile and he gasped for air. Settling on the ground to steady himself, he pulled off the cap and balled it in his fists.
"The Triforce is no one's birthright, even if the same races are forced to bear it century after century. Humans are extremely pompous and funny creatures." Gohdan phased back and forth, cutting the balmy air inside the Tower's top floor. "You may be a descendent of one of the Heroes, but such expectation and grooming has turned you into a coward."
I'm not!
"I am not finished," Gohdan continued and Link slumped. "Why do you tirelessly seek and hone yourself?" The boy could not answer. "You hold fierce respect for your ancestor, but you constantly hide and try to please others. Your do things society deems to be inappropriate and you feel guilty. Why?"
Smoothing the cap in his lap, Link stared resentfully at the guardian. He was exposed. Naked.
Laid bare for a hunk of stone to see.
Stretched for the world to savor.
"The sages at Hyrule Castle prepared me for my destiny," he argued, "and...I hide because what I did is wrong. I don't think it's a very heroic quality to parade ones shortcomings."
"Of course not," the stone guardian agreed and Link gritted his teeth. "Theoretically speaking, you are under a tyrant's rule and you decide to revolt, is what you are doing correct?"
"Yes." The child nodded assuredly.
"Did you ever wonder why you and the child named Link transferred places?" Gohdan questioned, hovering to a stop.
Brushing a sweaty fringe away from his forehead, Link nodded. "The only explanation I can come up with...is that I'm not adequate."
The walls of the tower pulsed again and Gohdan stirred. "This tower is an accumulation of history and it is not built by human hands." At this, Link sat ramrod straight. "The height of the tower is constructed from experience of the previous Links; hence it is the ultimate hurdle. The Hero of Time split Time into three annals-"
"One where he failed, two where he succeeded," Link robotically interjected. "I come from the timeline where he fell into a foreign land, the name which escapes me. According to a reliable historian," he swallowed bitterly, "the Hero of Time…became deranged." Link stared at the wide open eye embedded in Gohdan's stone palm. "This timelines comes from his adult phase, where he refused to turn into a child. For this reason, his reincarnation became delayed and Ganondorf," the boy's lips twisted into an ugly pout, "woke early and forced the Royal Family to seal and flood the plain...It has been centuries...Entire races have been wiped out or changed."
The guardian floated back to its place. "Do you know what it means to be a hero?" he repeated his first query, "and why do you want the Triforce?" The wall swallowed Gohdan's form and Link wished to stay longer and converse. "You can answer these questions but you need to dig them from deep within your heart."
The veins of cyan branching from the guarding retracted one by one, fading into a uniform grey.
"Remember Link, heroes are not groomed. The Triforce chooses those who are courageous, therefore I implore you to find your lost courage. Do what is right and do not feel ashamed." The chamber dimmed. "You have not passed satisfactorily, but you must ring the bell, it is time for the Tower of the Gods to sink."
A huge curve of shining platinum seared Link's retinas when he climbed to the pinnacle of the tower. Already, the superstructure groaned, inching into the bewitching depths of the sea. Unable to resist the view from such a magnificent place, Link climbed the parapet. The golden sunshine and whistling winds failed to sweep his heart into a single piece and he gazed into the open sea, feeling hollow. Putting the telescope to his eye, he smiled sadly when the tiny, crimson speck of a boat floated on the ocean's waves and he turned to the bell.
Marching towards it purposefully, Link clung to the rope dangling underneath it and rung the bell. The resounding gong filled his head and body with a strange sound and after the third ring, he stepped into a teleporting portal and whisked back to the damp, staring place of the hurdle.
The boy landed on the deck with his characteristic, forceful thump of boots. "I can't feel anything," he confessed and the King of Red Lions turned, eyebrows raised in alarm.
"Paralysis?" The boat probed, inwardly relieved to see the return of his unpredictable, dangerous passenger. "But you can walk..."
Link unloaded his backpack and methodically rifled through it, sorting waste, items and perishables. He limped across the tiny deck and stacked the new sea charts in a waterproof chest. Loping back to the mast, he leaned against it, face tilted towards a cloudless sky.
"I can't feel anything here." He pointed to his chest. "Remember I complained about a stiff neck?" he asked and the figurehead nodded. "I saw my real reflection in the water moments before I woke up back home. In Hyrule." He paced. "I...wanted to come back here," Link said. "It makes me feel free, the constant need to survive, living on the sea with its tides and swells...and," the shadow on his face cut into a momentary smile, "I saw a little boat like you in a pawn shop." The grin disappeared. "I tried to crush my feelings but when I returned, in front of the Command Melody and you were worrying about me…I wanted to feel happy but I can't."
The boy sat in front of the figurehead, searching the dragon's wooden face for answers.
"I feel hollow...no," he shook his head, "I feel nothing...and Gohdan's words...nothing." Head hung low, he picked the grit between the deck planks. "Do you think I'm a coward?" Link abruptly asked, eyes reduced to searching pinheads and the King of Red Lions blinked, unsure of what to say. "I want the honest truth, you have always been frank with me," he pressed, "I want to hear from you...what do you think of me?"
"Right now," the boat faced the glare of sunshine sparkling off foamy waves, "you are the bravest person I know."
The child fell into silent contemplation. By late afternoon, he sat at the foot of a trunk, poring over sea charts and the confidential documents swiped from the Pirate's ship. Usually, Link's face lit up when he read, he grinned like an imp, however, his current expression remained downcast.
In the background, the ocean swallowed the Tower of Gods and bored of poring over old charts smelling like mint and pepper; Link watched the Tower sink. Rows of stone, history, he corrected himself, melted in the water and as the sun drew level with the horizon, the rays reflected off the magnificent curves of the platinum bell. Stomach twisting into apprehensive knots, Link scuttled to the boxes stacked neatly at the back of the boat and hunted for food. The next destination will take him underwater, to the old continent of Hyrule. Anticipation lost, he found bread, sliced cheese and ate without tasting anything.
A pair of painted eyes noted Link's every move. "You will be meeting someone important soon," the King of Red Lions informed and the boy cocked his head nonchalantly. "Are you curious as to who it might be?" The boat tried cajoling his listless companion and Link ponderously zoned on his sandwich, eyebrows drawn. He tossed a name and the watercraft smiled. "As perceptive as ever, although, this time you are wrong."
The first stars appeared on the teal sky like tiny white scars and brushing breadcrumbs off his chin, Link maneuvered the horizontal boom. A sheet of reflective water stretched as far as the eye could see and no evidence pointed to the existence of a Tower of Gods save for a marigold portal winking on the darkened waters. Slowly, the boy rowed the boat into a circle around the blossom like entrance. Light distorted his features and he gingerly touched the portal and pulled his hand back.
"Journeying to the bottom of the sea will be a novel experience for you," the boat exclaimed with forced enthusiasm and received a polite half smile for his efforts. "Don't be discouraged lad, the goddesses choose the bearer of the Triforce and here you are, forcing the Gods to choose you."
Gripping the boat tightly, Link jerked to the King of Red Lions. "What did you say?" he asked. The words uttered by the battered boat gave him a surge of hope. Smiling indulgently, the watercraft repeated his expression and Link stared at his hands.
And here you are, forcing the Gods to choose you.
Standing straight, the hero grabbed an oar and nudged the boat into the center of the portal, his face impassive. The entrance expanded, a blinding halo lighting the sea like a ring of uncontrolled fire. Daphnes dropped gently and water swamped the boat, soaking Link's ankles, calves and thighs. Strangely, the sea was warm. The waterline climbed over his chest, brushed against his mouth and Link breathed deeply, imagining water constricting his lungs and leaving him breathless.
An image of lashing rain and an unappeasable storm swirled behind shut eyelids and a prompting from his boat forced him to open his eyes and inhale sharply. The underwater world folded out before him. A few meters inside the water and moonlight dimmed, relinquishing its light in favor of darkness. Threads of silver pierced through, illuminating schools of darting fish and forests of seaweed. A carpet of spongy and colorful things sat on the ruins of what appeared to be stone walls and Link fumbled for his telescope, lips curving downwards when the surroundings failed to clarify. A long, snake-like creature darted around the boat and he pointed his sword at it. The eel regarded the human with lamp-like eyes and corkscrewed into the murky water.
Wordlessly, the King of Red Lions descended.
Deep beneath the ocean, the landscape morphed into a time preserved grey. An inexplicable emotion balled in the pit of Link's throat and forced itself upwards. Instead of elation, he swallowed nausea and observed plains and high hills crawling into view. Bleached turrets poised regally above the main body of a sprawling palace and his fingers dug into the wood of the mast. Breathless, he tore his eyes away from the preserved remains of Hyrule Castle and searched in the inky environment. No fish, no sea life dared to come close to the foreign land rooted at the bottom of the ocean and even seaweed refused to root on the once glorified land.
The boat steadily voyaged downwards and did not speak, preferring to stare wistfully at the tiles and pewter rock conspiring to form the palace. Fingers fastened on the hilt of his sword; Link resolutely practiced his sets and mentally compared the old castle with the one he was familiar with.
While he trained for his destiny, he was often required to serve alongside the castle staff and the knowledge of secret tunnels and unfrequented shortcuts helped him greatly when he visited the underground crypt.
Bumping to a gentle stop, the King of Red Lions gazed at the majestic gates barring the castle grounds. Beyond it, the land carved into a valley and celebrated engineers constructed a bridge leading from the iron wrought gates into the castle courtyard. The entrance swung soundlessly open and the boat glided through, head fuzzy. It has been more than a few centuries since he last set eyes on his beloved castle. Time eroded all sentiments and any hope for finding a new wielder for the Triforce of Courage but in the end, persistent patience eventually yielded results.
Onboard, Link sheathed his sword. Cold and heat held no meaning in this grey realm but anxiety bloomed wet patches on his chest and armpits. Calming after his sword practice, he focused on the drab scenery. Blades of grass did not ripple and trees remained static. The boat halted and a short stone staircase invited Link into the foreboding bowels of the long forgotten castle.
"I'm going inside," the boy announced and half twisted to smile at his companion. "I'm going in there to meet this important person you are talking about," he rolled his eyes, "and to find out what it means to be a hero. I'll find answers and they will change me...perhaps I will know the true meaning of what it means to be a bearer of the Triforce."
Daphnes nodded encouragingly and added, "Time is preserved here and you are the key which holds it together. You must find a sacred artifact slumbering within the Castle and resume the flow of time." Link checked his supplies, refilled potion bottles and frowned when he held up an empty, linen swathed mason jar. "Ah yes, your poison, the young Link thought it was a beverage and tried to drink it." Horrified, Link placed the dregs of liquid conium back into the sack. "Don't worry, he never managed to swallow anything but his energy is frankly...tiring." A spell of solemn silence wedged between the two. "My boy, I wish you all the best inside the castle, you will be tested of course and I am fully confident you will not need my help. Leave the Pirate's charm behind and go forth without regrets and second guesses." For a person who normally kicked the gossip stone around, Link reluctantly placed it his tin cup and stowed it safely in the deckhouse. "Our parting won't be long I hope."
"I hope," Link echoed and hopped overboard.
He passed a pathway framed by stone palisades and entered through an arched doorway. In Hyrule, the doors opened to a melodious fanfare and visitors were greeted inside a gigantic foyer before being whisked away to meet Princess Zelda. Here, no such fanfare burst forth and stark alone, Link walked into the massive vestibule, boots echoing eerily against time stopped tiles. A series of grand staircases lead to the upper floors of the castle and in the middle, his breath caught in his chest, stood a larger than life statue of the Hero of Time.
Vision tunneling, Link marched to the statue. The base, bearing a silver plaque listing the Hero's deeds, towered well above him. Circling the marble podium, the boy fumbled for his pictograph and frenziedly snapped pictures; he discarded blurred shots and meticulously captured each and every angle.
Standing on tip toes, he placed the pictobox on top of the platform and hauled himself up. Monsters swarmed the castle. Sentinels of evil. Ganondorf's reach penetrated the sacred palace of light however; they stopped in their marches and froze into stone husks. Counting more than a dozen Darknuts, moblins and lesser bulblin, Link shimmied up the statue, grazing his palms against the stone bust. Balancing precariously on the Hero of Time's elbows, he slung his arms around the effigy's neck. Behind the statue, his eyes laid on an incomplete puzzle on the ground and he mentally sorted the triangular pieces.
Only the Triforce of Power remained in its correct position whilst Wisdom and Courage were scattered carelessly. Attention pulled back to the ring of grey piercing a stone ear, Link smiled and shifted back to view the statue, his hand brushed against a stone cheek and hovered in front of a sculpted nose.
Mother did say we had the same nose...he thought and smirked.
"I wish I could meet you," he spoke but the statue's eyes remained distant, pointed slightly above Link's head of blonde hair. "It would've been a great honor to be trained by you..." Link trailed off, feeling foolish for prattling to stone. "You are courageous, eight years old and you set out into the world, accused of murdering the Deku Tree and yet that did not stop you from anything. I thought...I might be able to live up to your name but all I did was make a fool out of myself." The castle's silent walls bore testimony to his words and Link lowered himself in the crook of the Hero bust's elbow. "Did you ever dare hope to have a descendent wielding the Triforce of Courage?" Link asked. "I suppose not, you don't even know I exist."
A gust of air blew through the glassless windows and skipped over the statue's head. Shooting up, Link surveyed for signs of enemies but found none. Skeptical, he craned his neck, the wind should not be blowing...there were no breezes at all.
Dubious, he resumed his position in the elbow crook and stared at the statue's face. "They didn't make you handsome enough," he quipped and raised his pictobox. Hesitating, he lowered the device, took one long, last look at his ancestor and climbed down.
A thorough search of the castle revealed no hidden passages or traps. The upper balustrades connected to a library, shelves lined with petrified books; rooms used for official work; a gigantic ballroom with smashed chandeliers and living quarters.
The ground floor held niches displaying proud suits of armor and long forgotten paintings. Lips twisting at a particularly grotesque one, Link scurried back to the puzzle sight. The Triforce shard of Wisdom could be maneuvered into place easy enough but the triangular piece of courage...
The boy cracked his knuckles. Time for work.
While he matched the pieces together, he thought; eyes often pulling to the source of inspiration casting a long shadow over him. Despite being buried beneath the sea, the Hyrule palace of old shone with its own, magical light. Dredging up bits of history inside his head, Link finally concluded that this castle must be the original one, from where the Hero of Time went on his missions. It was remodeled and maintained dutifully till the fateful day when the King ordered the realm to be sealed and prayed for a flooding.
Ganondorf's reign of terror penetrated far and wide and no hero rose to the task of keeping the balance of power in check.
A spark of thrill flared and died in Link's chest and as he painstakingly pushed the dense triangle of stone back into its proper formation. The boy panted and moved when the pieces lit up with a piercing glow of gold. The light reverberated and he turned when the scrape of stone sounded behind him.
The Hero of Time shifted, its stone base grating over the earth and revealing a basement below. Trotting to the space, Link gazed at the series of small steps leading into the basement.
A musty waft of air caressed his face.
Something called him. It tugged his heart and he vehemently resisted the sirenic call. The sensation was familiar and bewitching. Giving in, he dazedly entered the crypt. Lowering one step at a time.
Inside the sacred chamber and guarded by sages crystalized in stained glass, the Master Sword pulsed.
Begging.
Begging to be released.
XXXXX
Ruler of skies
An intricately carved armlet of iron...
Examining the outdated piece of jewelry critically, Link placed it on the round dining table, candle light flickered. Dawn pierced through the drapes hanging over the wooden window shutters of the sanctuary and to his disappointment, Grandpa Coron left for his rocky cave in Death Mountain. Opposite Link, Shad pushed gold framed spectacles up his nose and cast furtive glances at the hero. If the scholar wanted Link's expert opinion, poor him. Head resting on a folded arm, Link yawed and waited for the clatter in the kitchen signifying Ilia's presence.
But still, an old armlet? Did she really treasure this piece of junk?
Rolling the circle under his palm, Link recalled his treasures. An old felt boat sewed by Grandma and Aryll. Birthday scarves, too old and frayed to be worn. A collection of island bugs he proudly stuck on a thin slat of wood and stowed it in the communal wardrobe much to Aryll's horror. He also had a silver mirror presented to him by his parents, this he kept under layers of socks and underwear and did not show to Aryll or Grandma.
It was a piece of his parents. The gift served as his only link to long dead people and he jealously guarded it.
Glasses clinked and wide awake, Malo emerged from a shared bedroom. The child, already clothed in his potato brown sack (doesn't he get tired of wearing it?) shuffled to the table and greeted Link with a smile. Slightly wary of his genial personality, Link grinned back and resumed staring at the armlet. Malo hopped on a chair and placed an accounting book on the table, its walnut cover free from dust. Grabbing a pen from Shad's collection, the midget tallied his sales, chubby fingers flying on a colorful abacus.
Sounds emanated from the kitchen and bedroom collectively and Link eased from his chair; after he pieced the Mirror of Twilight together, he will find a way home, he vowed.
Still angry for not being able to visit his family during his short stint on the Great Sea, he moodily dragged his legs into the fire warmed kitchen and greedily inhaled the tantalizing aroma of boiling milk and freshly baking bread. Sensing him, Ilia dusted her hands free of flour and smiled.
"You are back," she said slowly and folded her hands in her lap. "How was the trip to the...Hidden village?"
A window cut into the side of the kitchen wall, overlooked the passage and allowed an outlet for smoke. A cute button nose and a pair of inquisitive eyes perched low on the window and Link disregarded Beth's wondrous stare in favor of pressing the armlet in Ilia's hands.
"Impaz...the old woman who rescued you, said this was yours." He stepped back as she turned the object over in her hands, her eyes tearing. "She also said you were very brave and-" Link froze when Ilia wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tenderly. At the window, the children looked on with undisguised glee and Beth blushed, pulling them aside one by one. Undeterred, Talo hooked his hands on sill till she forcibly pried him away. "Uh...Are you okay?" Link awkwardly patted her warm back and after hesitating, enveloped her in a hug. Ilia's quiet sobs dampened the front of his tunic and he held her head close to his chest. "It's okay to cry," he muttered softly and his fingers played with her hair, stroking her head gently. Link rocked back and forth and Ilia's muffled cries abated and turned to hiccups. She smiled radiantly and flushed.
"How romantic!" Midna crowed in his head and he inwardly sighed. For once, he wished she could shut up and leave him in peace. But miracles don't happen. "I think I hear wedding bells ringing..." the imp continued teasing and growing rigid, Link held Ilia at arm's length, his face pale.
Midna shouldn't think that!
Ilia checked the baking loaves of bread and caressed the armlet in her hands. "I remember," she began quietly, "you are Link, and you played with the children a lot. Helping Talo with his sword practice and fishing with Colin. Listening to Beth...you were very kind."
Blinking, Link failed to hear her words and groped in the confines of his infantile brain, weighing excuses and mentally running a simulator with Midna.
"You worked in Fado's ranch," the girl continued, oblivious to the latter's abstract struggle. "My father placed great trust in you and so did everyone in the village...I recall the time you arrived at Ordona, Rusl hauled you in, you were really skinny and you were carrying something in your arms." Ilia raised her face and noted a scar spiraling down Link's throat and into his tunic. "You had your arms around a goat and your eyes were like a wolf's..."
"No..." Link massaged his temples, face growing hot; seeing him blush, Ilia squeezed her hands around his arm and beamed.
"I thought you were really awesome," she gently gushed. "And because of that...here." She presented the armlet to him and Link inhaled sharply. "This was a present from my father to my mother," the band of iron glimmered in the oven's crackling flames, "and she gave it to me." Link mechanically took the armlet. "I will give it to you because you...you are special to me."
"A proposal!" The Twilli piped and Link back pedaled, face flaming. He clutched the iron armlet till the intricate carvings impressed leaves and flowers in his palm. "Isn't this nice? And she cooks really well, perfect for you and your gluttonous tendencies."
No, no, no! Link smiled tightly, facial muscles aching. It's not like that. I don't even like her!
"Thank you for this." He cheated Ilia; he was not the person she thought. "But, you should give this to me at a later time." He slipped the piece of jewelry through her arm. "It looks prettier on you than me. When all of this is over...when everyone is back home and Ordona is free from danger...please give that to me again." The girl's bottle green irises rested heavily on Link's face and unable to hold her determined stare, he looked at his scuffed boots. "I'm sorry," Link blurted and plodded out of the kitchen.
Finally, Midna stopped teasing.
Tired, he slumped at the table and tried to snatch a nap before Renado or the children disturbed him. Barely five seconds later, someone shook him and he bolted upright, head smashing against Shad's chin. The scholar's glasses flew off and they both dourly stared at the spectacles winking in the half light of the candles.
"I managed to crack the code old boy!" Shad, denim blue eyes glinting victoriously announced. "Come with me," he dragged Link into the basement.
Dizzy, he wordlessly followed the scholar and saw Talo raising his thumb and grinning like a monkey. Flushing, Link shook Shad's vise grip off him and climbed down to a cellar filled with cobwebs and carpeted with a two inch layer of dust. Wrinkling his nose, the adolescent meekly tailed the scholar, barely listening to passionate ramblings as he wondered if Midna still believed the entire spectacle about him and Ilia. Surely she knew he did not like her? And Agitha…was just a friend. A friend! He stressed wordlessly and hoped the message penetrated through the imp's objectively thick skull.
"And that's the sky cannon over there..." Shad's voice floated uselessly over Link's head and he focused on a small dagger slung on the man's waist. Looks fancy, he concluded and sneezed. "Ooccoo..."
Those human faced birds? Right, the hero sniggered, all pure blood Hylian were descendants of those freaks...so that means Shad must be related to them. Giggling, Link thought about the Twilight race...where did they come from? He vaguely recalled Midna giving him a history lesson but why pay attention to cranky old tales when he could fish?
"And this is the owl statue I've been telling you about." Shad stopped speaking and turned to see Link poking a dead spider. "Is everything alright old boy?" he asked and pushed a new pair of glasses up his nose. "The trip to the Hidden village gave you the Dominion Rod and the Sky Book, most marvelous artifacts, and these allowed me to decipher the real meaning of the statues!" Shad related breathlessly and waited for a reaction from Link, normally the goat herd soaked each and every piece of information like a sponge. "And...well, the Sky Book is incomplete, it is missing crucial information on the whereabouts of the Sky City but I wonder if I could use some magic to animate the statue and..."
Link yawned loudly, drowning the scholar's never ending, intellectual chatter.
Shad fumbled with the dagger and the Sky Book, he muttered to himself but behind his round spectacles, his eyes calmed knowingly. Shrinking into a corner, Link observed the older man run a slender index finger over lines of gibberish. Shad's chanting resonated from deep within his stomach and magic imbued words poured from his mouth. Lines of golden light pulsed against the owl statue and the scholar desperately wished for it to respond.
Alas, his incantations came to an end and exhausted, he slumped forward, teeth gritted in disappointment. He rotated to Link brandishing the Dominion Rod. The previously inert staff glowed with a magical ball of energy and lit up the young male's sun kissed features with a sickly glow. Shad reverently touched the stone staff and Link offered it to him.
Holding the weighty rod, the scholar somberly passed it back. "The magic came back," he uttered, words a respectful whisper. Half twisting, he scrutinized the statue. "You should visit the owl idols and pay homage. In the times of old, magic was plentiful and maybe...they can pave the way to the mysterious Sky City." Shad strapped the dagger back on his waist. "The Ooccoo are an ancient and advanced race, they married magic and technology and lived in the skies since ancient times. Normally their city is hidden from view by a barrier but old boy, if anyone can get in there...you would be the man." Running grimy fingers through his shock of caramel hair, Shad placed a reassuring hand on Link's shoulder. "You will find a piece of Twilight Mirror there and I am sure they are waiting to meet the Hero of Twilight."
Lush green fields and fragrant pines made a preferred camping ground than the alternating chill and blazing heat of the Gerudo desert. Dusk called animals home and right above Link's head, a flock of birds roosted and twittered, regarding the new stranger warily. In the light of orange-red twilight, the adolescent craned his neck to an owl statue perched above a rocky cliff face. The wooden carving stared haughtily down at him and walking a few paces backwards, Link raised the Dominion Rod and aimed carefully. An acid-green ball cut through the air, but before it reached the center of the statue, the energy orb flew back and he stomped on the ground childishly.
Darkness brushed over treetops and failing for the umpteenth time, he trudged back to the camping site, warmed by a fire pit surrounded with stones. Midna lazed on a felled tree branch and Link's lips twisted when a fat, white worm crawled from the hollow and painstakingly inched for the two toned imp. Suppressing a grin, he gathered the tent pegs and hammered them deep into the ground.
Did Midna help?
No.
Hope that worm nibbles on you, Link poisonously prayed.
"This is the fifth statue so that means we have one more before heading back to Kakariko Village and showing them to four eyes," Midna commented and lowered the map from her face; she missed the presence of her human. Shooting up from the dead log, she arched an eyebrow at a fat white worm and used her hand her to squash it. "Nasty things," the imp quipped.
An easterly wind rustled the trees and she hopped to the nearest birch pine, settling in its branches. Down below, clearing sand from a flat bench of stone, Link set his lantern down, lit it and titled his face towards the stars. Instead of disturbing him, the Twilli contented to watch. He dipped a paintbrush in an inkwell and drew two curves on the off white sheet of paper. The adolescent dutifully copied the owl statue's contours and filled in the little details. Two owlish eyes stood on opposite places and Link's paintbrush skewed in a sharp V, a beak. Sketching long into the night, Midna left the human penning a new letter to his grandmother and sister and floated back to the tent for a well-deserved sleep.
The next day they set out under the mid-day glare of the sun, Link roused late, rubbed dark circles beneath his eyes and rammed the shadow crystal in his head. They found the sixth owl statue and wrote the letter hidden underneath it in the Sky Book.
While the sacred wolf splashed in a large puddle of water, the remains of an angry squall, Midna critically analyzed the book, dubious about its use. Surely this book, with cryptic letters, could not point to an advanced civilization floating hundreds of meters in the sky? Glaring at the cloud streaked heaven; she summoned Link and headed east to Castle Town.
Paws prickled by short grass, Link approached the impressive gates of Castle Town but his irises narrowed on a ghostly, golden figure sitting vigil in front of the bustling town. The search for the Sky characters forced Link in all sorts of terrain; he trekked back to the deserted kingdom of sand, the Gerudo Mesa where large sand dunes threatened to mummify him in an eternal tomb.
He stumbled on the remains of a magnificent coliseum (at least that's what Midna called it) near the border between Hyrule and Zora's Domain. Ivory stone benches rose from the grassy plains and covered a half-circle stage containing an owl statue. Link stepped down the stairs of old, imagining people gathered here once upon a time and cheering their favorite heroes. Columns lay broken, pale grey innards exposed to the sun.
A dense forest concealed yet another statue and the humidity seeped through Link's tunic and clung to him like a second skin. Gasping for breath and hair plastered to his forehead, he swatted giant mosquitoes and other flying insects aside and hacked vines, some as thick as his arm. As he painstakingly removed the owl statue from a custom made pedestal of polished oak, Midna started an archaeological dig, unearthing century year old pottery and little stone busts glorifying Goddess Hylia…or someone.
The Hero's shade glimmered, its one eye no longer bled menace and he waited patiently for Link to come to him. The sacred wolf hesitated, padded closer and with roughly a meter separating them, sat down, ears cocked and body rigid.
Pelt blazing into gold, the ghostly wolf studied its student. Link held his gaze unflinchingly. The boy tried his best...but was it good enough?
Leaping, the Hero's shade dragged Link to the sacred realm.
A space untainted.
Rising from the blanket of snow, Link held his sword and shield; he crouched, demonstrating the last attack he learnt, the jump strike. A flurry of snow billowed outwards as the blue specter parried the strike and Link back flipped, boots sinking in the cold.
Lowering the rusted blade, the Hero's shade circled the human, frosty sunlight reflected off his circular shield and paper thin lips revealed a set of intact teeth, stained by ages. An eyeball rolled in a single socket and Link lowered his gaze to the cracked sword, how many times has he hammered against it, willing the metal to break? But the blade held, much like his tenacious ghost teacher and he suddenly missed Orca. The shade stopped, a circle of stamped snow isolated Link from the rest of the foggy realm and he stood tall.
No longer will he be afraid of a relic of the past.
"Hmm...you have grown, both in strength and in stature," the ghost remarked, freezing breath escaping in a cloud. "I do not have much to teach you."
Link turned, wondering if he imagined the sorrow weaved in the specter's words. Could ghosts experience emotions?
The living and dead, chained by resolve, pressed swords together in mutual respect and Link jumped back, blood boiling. He raised his blade to his lips and kissed, drawing courage from the Master Sword.
The distance between them felt too great, despite the few meters separating him from blood and bone. The Hero's shade adjusted his wobbling helmet and tightened the leather straps holding a disintegrating breastplate to his skeleton. Did the current Link recognize the old symbols of Hyrule? Perhaps not. Slipping an arm stripped of flesh in the shield enarmes, the ghost raised his sword, a lump in his throat.
He followed the sandy haired child ever since he was a baby and now the time came for them to part. The wind whistled a lament through the rectangular incision in his breastplate and he looked at it. The cut sat snugly over his heart, if he had one, and he thought it fitting. Years of waiting degenerated him to senile, impatient tutor of bygone ages but he hoped, the current hero will appreciate his sentiments.
"We will now commence training for the Great Spin attack," the specter voiced forcefully. "Let me demonstrate the technique to you."
Time flowed differently in the sacred realm, it stretched, one second, one hour in the world proper may mean two weeks, a month here. Sword gripped till his knuckles turned white, Link spun round and round, a whirling dervish of silver and green. The snow bore muddy tramples and turned into a field of dirty white.
Motionless like an obelisk, the Hero's shade watched till the human perfected the technique. It reminded him of the time Link spent swinging his sword over the Royal Garden, mowing it to the finicky gardener's expectations. The boy, lidding his seething emotions, pocketed whatever trinkets he found in the overgrown lawn and later spent hours in his room, poring over the oddities and trying to classify them. Those holding value were promptly pawned; others were dumped into the Castle Town fountain. Bit by bit the child grew, his awareness increased and the golden wolf could not tail him any longer lest he struck fear in the child's heart.
However, here he was. The last great spin sent him reeling into the snow and he lay, face forward, rear end to the sky. Dropping his weapon, the Hero's shade pulled the bumbling adolescent upright and the boy scrambled back, apologizing profusely.
"I got dizzy there for a second," Link pouted, "this time I'll get it for su-"
"It is perfect," the ghost interjected, "your form." Blinking at the unsuspected praise, Link suspiciously squinted at the specter, mouth tightened in disbelief. "The Great Spin is the last thing I have left to teach you and now you have learnt it we...part."
Icy, skeletal hands grabbed Link by his shoulders and the Master Sword slipped from his grip, landing in the carpet of snow.
"You, who have marched through countless foes, each mightier than the last. You, who now gaze to the future, vision unclouded...mostly...Surely you can restore Hyrule to its days of yore as you are the chosen Hero of the Gods." Link let out a breath he held, he still did not think of himself as a hero, but he stood taller when the Shade praised and expected great things. "I have waited for you and although I accepted my position as a hero, regret of not being able to pass on my teachings, has tethered me to this realm." The ghost clasped Link tightly, trying to incite feeling in deadened palms. "You have eased my regrets and I have watched you grow from a babe to...to this." He stepped back, bony fingers fumbled with the helm on his head and he took it off. Embarrassed by his show of respect, Link smiled, cheeks coloring. "I wanted to meet you and since my wish has been fulfilled, I now bid you farewell, my child."
What!?
Whaaat?
Child…No.
No!
"Wait!" Link screamed and lunged, the ghost's helmet imploded under his touch, a glitter of golden dust. Alarmed, he drew back and grabbed the breastplate's leather cords. "You…you can't leave me like this!" he insisted and the armor melted, transforming into a green tunic. "What...what's going on?" Link asked, shielding his eyes from a bright halo of light. "A fairy?" he warbled confusedly when a light blue orb with gossamer wings floated around the specter.
The Hero's shade smiled, skin losing the cyanotic blue Link associated him with. He almost looked human. A shock of light blonde hair spilled over his head and parted in the middle, framing his face. "Navi, I'm in a moment here," he wrinkled his giant nose and faced the fairy.
Navi? Link blanked. The fairy who accompanied the Hero of Time? Knees weak, he sunk to the ground and both the Hero and Fairy turned to him.
"In the moment of dying apparently," the fairy retorted and pulsed. "Hurry up; I don't have another century to wait for you." She winked into non-existence and Link desperately clutched the older man's tunic.
"You can't go," he sniffed, tears springing to his eyes. "This is a mistake, you don't understan-"
The old hero's eyes flashed. A ghastly shade of red. "Are you still going on about that?" He thundered. "You should be proud of your legacy," he pried Link's clammy hands off his tunic and held them in his own. "You have strong hands, use them to protect. Use them to make me proud."
"No, YOU don't understand!" Link grasped him tightly. "I'm not him, your son. Son. He's in a different realm, I'm NOT HIM!" he hysterically gasped. Was this recompense, because he could not visit his grandma? "You must tell this to him...you can't leave him like this and go!" His vise grip cut off the once ghost's blood supply and he blanched, face paling into alabaster.
Link, Hero of Time smiled brightly. "Is that so?" he asked and wiped the tears coursing down the adolescent's face. The youngster hung on him, tense and desperate. "Then, I hope you take the message to him." The current Link shook his head fiercely. "I cannot stay, see, my legs are transparent already." He pointed to his vanishing body and hugged the young hero. "Stop wasting tears and go back, once I rejoin my companion," his lips stretched wider, gleeful, "this realm will cease to exist and you cannot be stuck here can you?"
The Hero of Twilight clawed, digging his fingers in a rapidly cooling shoulder, the Hero's shade, full of life, dissolved beneath him and the realm evaporated, eaten by a thick fog. He snatched the man's tunic, hoping to tear the cloth and preserve a form of evidence. But the torn material transformed into dust and left a glittering, golden imprint on his palm.
Pressing the palm to his face, he wept.
Midna perched on his shoulder as Link's knees sunk on the stone paved road, she squeezed his arm comfortingly, for some reason, the sobs wracking his body did not point to a childish tantrum. "Are you alright?" she asked and combed his hair with her fingers.
He sniffed and shook his head. Not bothering to wipe the salty tears dripping from his lips, Link uncovered one puffy eye. "Why does this always happen to me?" he demanded and Midna touched his cheek. "Why me?"
Why is it always me?
A/N: This chapter was sad, I remember watching a Youtube video of the Hero of Time vanishing after he finished imparting the last lesson, it was animated and I can't remember whose channel it was but Kudos to you animator! You made me cry.
After all these years of being glorified, Link is told that he is nothing. Of course this will make him depressed. He feels nothing, everything is drab and grey and he can't enjoy anything anymore. It's not a nice feeling, it makes you tired.
Hopefully this story brings a little joy, a little comfort to those who are sad. Please read and review, constructive criticism is always appreciated.
Much thanks to TheOverlord2 for favoriting the story, hope you enjoy it further.
At KVeronicaP: Thank you for the kind words. I hope the story continues to live up to your expectations