For anyone still reeling from the Master Sword not working last chapter, might I recommend revisiting the Shadowblight Midna fight? I actually had to rewrite parts so that it matched up with the Failing To Murder Your Best Friend Incident.
The Magic Awakens
Chapter 39
The Twin Messages
The narrow window slid open to the empty bedroom. A shadow slipped between the bars. Midna rose from the darkness and leaned against the nearest wall to catch her breath. She barely had the chance to recharge her magic before she was called to rescue Link again, and what a heartbreaking mess he was to hold in her arms. If only she could've stayed with him, offered him her shoulder for as long as he needed, but her cruel family life demanded that she returned before they ever knew she was gone.
So she did what she could and hoped it was enough. Warp him to hospital. Warp herself home. The evidence of her forbidden excursion coated her from head-to-toe. Mud. Rain. Foliage. The puzzle was cleaning herself without leaving a trace behind, but first thing was first. She needed to slip her confiscated slate back into the safe under her mother's side of the bed.
Fortunately, slipping into the shadows didn't take much magic at all. The motion sensor and the lock on her door were so trivial. There was no tower that could imprison a wild little shrew.
Something halted her trail along the hall. Zant's heated voice. "I'm sorry I spoke out of turn, but we can't just terminate her. She's too powerful."
Was this related to Zant's internship? Why did he get a say in sacking people? And what kind of excuse was "she's too powerful"? Was "she" overqualified? The questions lured her under Zant's bedroom door.
He paced around the room, slate pressed to his ear as he gnawed on his thumb. For someone who always gloated about his internship, he seemed awfully sullen about it behind closed doors. "Of course I'll do it if the need rises," he insisted, "but I don't think it's come to that yet. Think about it. We could still use her. Perhaps as a bargaining chip. No! Sir-" Zant halted his pace, starting wide into the shadows where Midna hid.
Fear spread through her. He can't see me, she told herself. He can't see me. He can't. He shouldn't.
"Forgive me. I'll have to call you back."
Midna shot through the shadows and down the hall. Zant's footsteps pursued her, loud and booming. She threw herself under the door, leapt from the shadows, and had flipped back her covers when Zant flung open a door that was supposed to be locked.
Whatever worry had hung on his face peeled into a smug grin. Her weathered form was in the open and all she could do was mutely shake her head.
"Mum. Dad," Zant called down the stairs. "Midna snuck out again."
Midna was trampled by the thunder of their feet up the stairs. The doorframe was barricaded by all three members of her family. Six eyes stripped her raw. There was no hiding now. No cover story for this. What would they do? What was the punishment for this uncharted level of defiance?
Solaria darted down the hall. Tahk shouldered past his son, scrutinising his sullied daughter and where the mud led. Or didn't lead. The sheets to the window were unstained, as was the floor past her desk.
"How did you get out." Midna pressed into the corner of her room at the foot of her bed. Tahk slunk closer. Towered over her as she shrank. "Answer me!"
Her mouth opened, but no words came. The last time they had a confrontation, her father had tried to hit her. Link wasn't around to protect her now. "Um, I picked the lock," she fibbed. "Link taught me." If that lie for her own survival condemned Link to more of Dad's wrath, she would never forgive herself.
The door to her room creaked back and forth. "But how could you do that when it's locked from the outside?" Zant said. He craned his neck down the stairs. "Doesn't explain how you got in, either. I don't see any mud tracks."
Solaria swung into the doorframe. "I don't know how, but she's cracked the safe," she announced. "Her slate's gone."
Tahk snapped back to Midna. "Where is it."
Midna summoned it behind her back and handed it over, as if she had just pulled it from her back pocket even though her leggings had none. Tahk snatched it from her and tossed it to Solaria. She caught it and ducked away to hide it again.
Once again, her father's presence became her cage. "So you pulled off an impossible escape," he began, "and you cracked a safe like it was nothing." He was about to figure it out. He was. What would he do? How would he control her now?
"There's only one explanation, isn't there?" he said. "You can use magic."
Midna shoot her head. "I can't. I really can't, I swear."
"I haven't got you figured out yet, but I will." His palms smacked the walls beside her head, sending her chest into a frenzy. "Either you show me what your powers are, or I'll make you."
Make her? Gods, he couldn't stop getting worse. She couldn't be forced to reveal her powers when her magic was drained. She couldn't fight back. She could hide in the shadows, but Zant might know where she'd flee, and her method of escape would be revealed. Dad could come up with a plan to respond. Then there was the puzzle of where Midna would go. Even though Impa said she was welcome, she couldn't lead danger to their door.
"I have an idea," Zant piped up as if they were working on a group assignment. "Why not lock her in here and install security cameras? She's bound to reveal herself in due time."
Tahk nodded at the suggestion and finally, finally backed off. It was as if a foot on Midna's chest stopped grinding so hard and she could breathe again, however shallow. "I'll sort it out," he said. "You stay here. Keep an eye on her." Zant smiled and offered a playful salute as the captain passed. How cold of him. Midna was shaking in the corner of her room, and Zant was acting like it was Sunday.
He closed the door behind him, pulled out Midna's desk chair, and settled into it with a perky posture. Hands laced over his crossed knees. "Well, dear sister. It's been a while since we've had some quality time together." Yeah, it had. If only she could delay it a while longer. "How would you like to spend it?"
Midna thought back to the call, to the mysterious "she" who was destined to either be terminated or used as a bargaining chip. There was something fishy there. Intel to be gained.
"Tell me more about your internship."
Mipha's glowing palms hovered between twisted ankle and purple throat. Bruises faded, but no further than yellow. Organs still ached as Link shifted. Cuts and wounds sealed but left flaky skin. The swelling of his ankle scarcely subsided. Lulu's healing was far more competent than this and she wasn't even a doctor. If it was her, Link would've recovered almost an hour ago.
Mipha cracked her wrists for a third break. "Mr Harkinian," she said, worn and breathless. "I cannot heal you if you continue to resist."
But Link wasn't resisting. He was just lying there, waiting eons for the magic to fix him so he'd be kicked back into his suicide mission. Okay, maybe the doctor was right to call him out. A healed body meant getting back on his feet and facing the very quest that had put him in hospital again and again.
The pillow and mattress should swallow him whole. If Link didn't get up, he couldn't be knocked down again. Call him selfish. Call him lazy. It didn't make a difference. Hyrule's fate was sealed, regardless of if he tried. The Goddesses should just take his sword and present it to someone more capable, worthy, and resilient. Someone too stupid to give up. They could bear the brunt of failure instead.
"Perhaps we'll try another time," Mipha offered. "I believe your family is still waiting for you. Seeing them may help."
The blankness of his face rivalled Midna's when she had shackled herself to the bench. The overplayed feelings of betrayal, fear, and frustration bobbed under his mask like the severed hands in the water. He was about to shake his head when his slate dinged on his bedside. Midna's tone.
Link snatched it up, ravenous for attention from the only person he could trust. As he read it over though, his shoulders sank lower.
Heyyy I think I know where the last medallion is.
How goddess-damn insensitive of her! Midna had witnessed a full-blown panic attack over this quest only a few hours ago. She was there right when he gave up on everything. It didn't take a genius to know that maybe she shouldn't spring this on him so soon. If at all.
His slate dinged again. A generic tone from an unknown number, but the preview at the top of his screen compelled him to tap.
Hey Link, it's Midna. I'm on a burner slate rn. When you're feeling up to it, text me. DO NOT CALL!
Two Midnas? That reeked of crisis. The kind he couldn't tackle like he used to. For one, he didn't know which was the real Midna and which was the fake. The former had to have known her passcode, and the latter pre-emptively refused to confirm via her voice. Then again, the unknown number sounded more like her. He wished it was her.
Link swallowed his pride. Whatever this crisis was, he couldn't face it alone. "Um, doc." Mipha, halfway out the door, turned her head. "I'd like to see them."
With a nod, Mipha left the ward. A minute or so later, frantic footsteps flew down the hall. Zelda threw her head around the doorframe first, blonde hair swaying. Link averted his eyes to his fistfuls of sheets. Her red eyes and tear stains were the most frightful he'd seen in a long time, and they were his fault.
Impa cleared her throat. "May we come in?" Link shrugged. He didn't want to invite them in. He didn't want to invite them to anything. They should just come in on their own without his welcome because they were not welcome, even when they were needed.
They eased into two chairs set beside the hospital bed. Zelda by his waist and Impa by his knees. "Hey," Zelda mumbled. Link didn't answer. He was still so angry at her and Impa, but most of all, he was angry at himself. Angry that he forced them to wait for hours while Midna would kill for a family that would wait for her at all. Angry that he couldn't find it in himself to just forgive them and move on. Angry that he had given up on this whole quest, but unknown dangers still encroached on those he cared for.
No one would understand that anger. Least of all the ones who betrayed him. That was why he didn't speak. Even though he really should.
"Before we say anything," Impa began, "I'm sorry. Zelda told me what Ghirahim said to you at the dance. Finding out that we -I- haven't been honest with you must have hurt. Especially in that situation."
That was a start for Link, but he needed more. "Why can't you just tell us what happened?"
Impa gulped. "You deserve to know but…" Her muscles seized. Her joints locked. Her hands scrubbed up and down her arms, so vigorous that she could sand off her skin.
"Stop." Zelda tried to still Impa's hands, but she kept scrubbing. She needed to get the blood out of her clothes, no matter how much it inflamed the imaginary slash on her wrist. Vicious laughs and ragged screams and dying breaths throbbed in her ears. But the most painful sensation, the one that no wound could match, was the gentle, glowing palm against her temple.
"I can't…" Impa whispered. "First I couldn't save them. Then I can't give you closure." She trembled upon a bygone battlefield. "I'm a horrible guardian…"
"You're not." Zelda guided Impa to her shoulder and stroked her back. Despite the height difference, it was as if the role of parent and child had been reversed. "Yes, we want to know what happened, but you aren't ready, and that's okay."
Link disagreed. It wasn't okay. He was sympathetic to Impa's PTSD, he really was, but that didn't make him any less impatient. These were his parents whose deaths had been a mystery for nine goddess-damn years. Link's only scrap of information -that it was a tragic accident- had been exposed as a lie. Now he had nothing to go on aside from Impa's intense reaction to the memory. It wasn't her fault that she was too traumatised to reveal it, but how long did Link and Zelda have to be denied the truth they were owed?
"I want to tell you," Impa said breathlessly. "It's just so much more than a trigger. Everything will change. Every fucking thing."
"I'd take that chance," Link sneered.
Impa curled deeper into Zelda's shoulder, who gave her brother a fiery glare. "Would you like us to leave?"
Link shrank back into his pillows, revolted at himself. Truth was that he did, but Midna's messages… He shook his head. "Take a minute."
Thanks to the demands of her job and extensive therapy, it only took a few minutes for Impa to cobble herself together, but the twins knew better than to press the issue.
"Please remember that what Ghirahim said wasn't Impa's fault," Zelda said. "You have every right to be upset. We both do, but Ghirahim wants us to turn against her."
A good point. A great one. And a stupidly obvious one, too. Link thought he was strong and smart enough to resist Ghirahim's manipulation but even he fell prey. Impa didn't tease this tragedy before Link's peers. She didn't expose a murderous secret when he was vulnerable and fearing for his life. She hadn't even been the one to claim it was an accident! That was on Rusl and Bo and every other Ordonian adult. Impa's worst infraction was allowing the twins to live with the lie while she was incapable of sharing the truth. Bitter as Link was about it, he would have to keep waiting for answers.
"I'm sorry for being an ass," Link grumbled.
Impa's hands remained tightly clasped in her lap, just to stop her palms from sanding her down. "Thank-you. This week hasn't been kind to any of us."
Too true. First, Ganondorf attacked Impa on Tuesday, then Link nearly drowned on Thursday, then the school dance was besieged on Saturday, and mere hours ago this very Sunday, Link had almost suffocated under the hateful glower of the unkillable Demon King.
A silence hung in the air, and Link dreaded the question that would rupture it. "What happened in the woods?" Zelda asked tentatively.
If Link planned to die a disgrace, would it be an ambiguous one? Did he want to keep his family, his friends, and all of Hyrule guessing why their hero abandoned his noble quest? "Ganon and I met," he began, "and he asked me to kill him."
Impa's head snapped up. Zelda smacked her gasp. Slowly, her hands peeled away. "And… did you?"
Link screwed his eyes shut, bit his lip, and nodded. He had driven a sword through his best friend's heart. Through the one who had Zelda's heart. When her chair clattered against the floor, he thought she had risen to run or roar, but instead she threw herself over his curled form. "It's not your fault," she wailed into his hair. "It was those stupid Goddesses! They put you up to this. Oh, Link…"
He clung to her, savoured the embrace even though he did not deserve it. Even though part of him was still angry with her. "It's not over," he began. "He didn't die."
Zelda's shuddering abruptly stopped. "Ganon's alive?"
"I don't know. He wasn't the guy who got up."
The next few seconds crawled by, leaving a gruesome trail of thoughts, like a desperate soul that had lost their lower half. "Then who?"
"We're calling him Demise, after the original Demon King."
"And the Master Sword didn't affect him?"
Link shook his head. "He pulled it out like it was nothing. I slashed him a dozen times, but he healed instantly."
Zelda shrank back to her seat as the information sank in. "So you're saying that the one weapon capable of defeating Demise didn't defeat him?" He nodded. "Oh gods," she breathed. "But why?"
"I have a theory." Impa's voice was so quiet. She was never louder than she needed to be, but such cautious volume was unusual. "May I see your mark?" She offered her palm. Link scrutinised it and turned away, though he did lay his left hand over his abdomen.
The Triforce of Courage was so dim, as though it had been stencilled on with drugstore eyeshadow. On Zelda's hand, the Triforce glowed as bright as the tip of a candle flame. "Whenever I oversaw Zelda's prayers, I often noticed her Triforce glowing dimmer," Impa said. "I believe it was when Zelda felt her least wise, and that was why Hylia never answered her." Never mind that Impa was Hyrule's Most Reluctant Spiritual Guide. "Could there be something similar going on here?"
That was a round-a-bout way of calling Link a coward. His angle hid his grimace but not the droop of his ear. Impa sighed. "Before we continue, could you tell us the rest?"
The hand with the faded mark clenched. The other grazed his throat where the ghost of that grip haunted him. "I dropped the sword and ran, but he was too fast, and I couldn't see my way through. He caught me in the middle of an asthma attack. Pinned me against a tree." The moment he should've died. But didn't. Why? Why? In the haze of the memory, a detail surfaced. "He took a gander at my left hand, and then he just… left."
Zelda tilted her head. "He left?"
"Dropped me in the mud. I was already suffocating. Thought he'd watch my asthma do his dirty work, but he disappeared. Probably warped away."
Her thumb ran over her own marking. "He did that to me too," she mumbled. "When Impa was bleeding on the floor and I was in his hold, I thought it was the end, but then he snatched my hand, glared at the Triforce, and just… let go. He dropped me, kicked down our door, and poof. Gone." Zelda sniffed as she rubbed the brewing tears from her eyes. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Least of all you."
Zelda had gone through the same traumatic incident, and the day after, she jumped at the chance to quest again. She retrieved the Water Medallion on her own, and then she took decisive action to rescue the hostages a few days later. How was Link doing after his confrontation with the Demon King? Wallowing in his fear, shame, and cowardice. He bore the Triforce of Courage, and yet his sister had more courage and resilience than him.
"You aren't okay," Zelda said. "I know you aren't. Nearly every horrible thing that happened this week has hit you the hardest. I can see why tonight…" She paused, weighing her next words. "…you reached your breaking point."
Link whipped towards her with flared nostrils. He wanted to snark at her, refute her, but how could he do that when she told the truth. There was nothing he could do but shoot her a glare. One that hissed, Don't keep talking about me like that!
But the talking needed to commence. "Just so you know," Impa said. "We wouldn't dare call you a coward, and neither should anyone else."
"But that's your theory, isn't it?!" Link snarled. "The sword isn't giving me special powers because I'm not brave enough." There it was. He had smashed himself like an egg on the road for everyone to see. "The Goddesses chose wrong."
Zelda crossed her arms with a scoff. Apparently what he said was so ridiculous that it shrugged off much of her tension and tears. "Even if that were true, I'd rather like to give them a good scold."
Impa smirked a little. "You'd burn in the Dark World for that."
"A worthy price, I assure you." Zelda turned back to her brother and beheld not just the Link of the present moment, but the lifetime he had led before. "In my not-so-humble opinion, you are the greatest hero to have ever lived, and for one specific reason. Before destiny came knocking on the doors of your past lives, what were they doing?"
"I dunno," Link mumbled. "Living in a forest or something?"
"Precisely. Many of them arguably pursued noble paths. The Hero of the Sky trained to be a knight, the Hero of Twilight was trained to protect his village, but it wasn't until some prophecy was revealed that they started walking the path of a hero. You didn't wait for anything. You peeled back the privilege that blinded you, and when you saw the world in strife, you refused to be a bystander, so you became an ally.
"I've always envied your raw and courageous approach to activism. You always asked yourself 'What is the hardest thing that needs doing?' and then you went out and did it. As much as I worried for you, I was in so much awe.
"So don't you dare say that you're unworthy. Don't you dare say you aren't good enough. It isn't fair that you bear the weight of Hyrule, and it isn't fair that you bore the weight of so many other difficult issues, but you did it anyway, and that proves your heroic spirit far more than any fancy sword or golden triangle ever could."
Link pulled the sheets closer. He wanted to believe Zelda, because he was touched by her impassioned speech, but winning this war didn't feel like a possibility anymore. Without all the answers, without the full power of the Master Sword, the only future he could see was one where he died in vain. No amount of "heroic activism experience" could change that. Laying his life on the front lines was effective because no one wanted to kill him for it. That wasn't true of Ghirahim, and it won't be true of Demise once Link passed some nebulous criteria. When Link drew the Master Sword, he had faith that it would hold the line between life and death, but now that it couldn't defeat those trying to breach it, what was he to do?
Zelda's shoulders sank with a sigh. "If you can't face Demise, then I think it's apparent that the magic must be sealed," she said. "We just need to get one more medallion, one more, and then this whole nightmare will be over. For us and maybe for Ganon too." She turned to their guardian. "Right, Impa?"
Impa's knuckles were sharp in her lap as she gnawed on her lip. The kind of body language from someone who knew something devastating. Something they were desperate to hold in. "You can sit this one out," she said to Link. "I discovered an enchantment for my knives that provides a milder version of the Master Sword's effects. I can cover for you."
Link glanced at his slate. The screen was black, but the messages from "Midna" were there. Unverified. Unscrutinised. Whatever it meant, one thing was all too likely. Midna was dangerously close to the enemy and the Light Medallion. If he didn't make an appearance, who knew what could happen to her. "I think I'll come too," he said, "but I'll need a few days."
"Oh, for certain," Zelda said. "Take all the time you need." How refreshing it was to see Link insist on rest.
That relief was dashed when he shook his head. "There's something we need to take care of. Something urgent." Link took his slate, opened the message app, and showed the mysterious texts. One an imposter. One in danger. It was time to determine which was which.
"Are the trials in order?" Ganondorf Dragmire leaned against the glass wall set behind a curved mahogany desk. Any jovial warmth the teen was known for had been replaced by the malevolent spirit who had claimed his body for good.
The tall office chair spun to face the overlord and in it sat Mr Vaati. Purple, pin-straight hair grazed a crisp suit of a deeper shade. His pressed fingers caged a grin. "Of course. I just need the spark to set them in motion."
"Tch." The Light Medallion materialised between Ganondorf's fingers. "Prove yourself and I might let you keep it." He flipped the coin to Vaati who plucked it from the air.
"Trust me. You don't get as rich as I do without playing a few people like a fiddle. Ghirahim's efforts to awaken Courage were… amateur."
Ganondorf chuckled. "He's loyal, but no intellect."
From the other side of the expansive office, a knock echoed. Vaati spun towards it. "Come in."
The door creaked open and Zant's face poked through. His eyes widened at the burly silhouette of Ganondorf transformed into the leader of the new world. It was jarring to see the jock-ish (and, in Zant's opinion, not very bright) high school senior carry himself with an oppressive, kingly aura.
Just as Vaati had instructed him, Zant shuffled in with his head bowed and sank to his knees. The gesture was archaic and not at all professional. Never-the-less, he addressed the demonic leader by his proper title, no matter how silly it sounded in the modern world. "Lord Dragmire. I have news."
"Speak." Zant could hardly believe that was the voice that cracked so many annoying jokes.
"My sister has been dealt with," he said. "We have installed security cameras in her room. It's impossible for her to leave without exposing her powers to my father, nor can she contact anyone."
Vaati drummed his fingers together with that same plastic smile. "Caging her in her own room. Excellent work, Mr Ozul." Zant's chest swelled at the scrap of validation. Vaati spun to Ganondorf. "What say you, Lord Dragmire? Might Ms Ozul have a use for us yet?"
"I've always been fond of using bratty princesses as leverage," Ganondorf said nonchalantly. Vaati laughed.
Zant had absolutely no issue with this plan. Nope. None at all. Not even a little bit.
The draft of Link in the hospital was one of the poorest written scenes. I was almost convinced that it was as good as it was gonna be, but after the crushing breakdown he had last chapter, it felt wrong to resign us all to a lacklustre follow-up. There were a lot of emotional conflicts and goals to juggle, so no wonder I didn't get it right the first time. Really hope the total rewrite paid off. It was the last scene I ever wrote for TMA.
Also after a year and a half of being unemployed because of this stupid pandemic, I finally got a job. This means that I'll be posting a bit later than usual. Still Fridays but in the evenings rather than mornings. Just giving you all a heads up :)
We are on the cusp of the final medallion arc. How do you reckon it'll play out?
