The Legend of Zelda: The Return
An Interlude
Neesha couldn't resist a smug smirk as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of lockpicks.
Link had had to go through the entire Temple in order to get through it.
He had to find keys to get through locked doors.
It had probably never occurred to him to just pick the lock.
Not that she thought he could do it even if he had the right tools.
The lock fell open with a satisfying snick and Neesha pulled it off the door, throwing it carelessly to the side. So far, going off of what she remembered from Link's stories of this place and the map she'd found in one of the chests situated throughout the temple she figured she was about halfway through the whole thing. She'd only been in there an hour and she'd already found a pair of silver gauntlets (much too big for her, but she figured they'd fit Hunter or Link. The two could fight over who got them). And if what Link had told her was true, somewhere nearby she'd find a shield, identical to the one his mother had owned. And that she could use.
And besides that there was the other, more important purpose behind getting the items.
She slipped her picks back into her pocket, adjusted the bag over her shoulder and loosened her scimitar in its sheath, then stepped through the door into the next room.
Rue had told her that all the temples scattered throughout Hyrule, with the obvious exception of the Temple of Time, had been created hundreds of years ago as tests for those wishing to enter the priesthood associated with them. You had to be strong, smart, and skilled to survive all the way through to the end, but if you made it you were accepted into the priesthood. Though the priesthoods no longer existed, the Temples still stood, but had fallen into a state of disrepair. What had once been controlled traps and puzzles had become lethal pitfalls and snares. The monsters that had once inhabited the Temples had grown wild and had taken over. Skulltullas nested in the eaves, Keese roamed the ceilings, and Like-Like's hid in the shadows, waiting for an unsuspecting meal to walk by. All told, the Temples had become nasty places to be. And when the Sages had been awoken and had tried to take their Temples back, Ganondorf had trapped them there with his own breed of monsters. Huge, mutated, blood-thirsty creatures that obeyed Ganondorf and no one else. Probably the results of experiments, much like the one that had turned Link's father into Dark Link.
The fact that Link had faced all of those monsters, and all of the dangers of the Temples and come out alive made him worthy of respect.
She could admit it in her head . . .
. . . but she'd never tell him that.
After he'd changed time, however, the Monsters came back, but without Ganondorf to control them they started to go wild, once again attempting to take over the Temples the King of Evil had promised them.
This time, however, the Sages were ready for them.
Phantom Ganon, Morpha, Volvagia, Bongo-Bongo . . . they were all taken down by the Sages, one by one, and the Temples were restored to their former glory.
The Witches, however . . .
The Witches had evaded the Sages.
They weren't your average monsters, created by Ganondorf to serve him.
Not by a long shot.
The Witches had created Ganondorf. Why still remained a mystery, but what was known was that they were smarter than mere monsters. They didn't return to the Spirit Temple when time reset itself. They hid themselves somewhere in the desert. Eventually the Sages gave up the chase and Nabooru moved back into the Spirit Temple, reclaiming it as her own without their interference.
The instant Nabooru had been captured, however . . .
Neesha slipped through the door and into the shadows, warily eyeing the huge armored something-or-other sitting on the large chair at the end of the long room. She fingered the hilt of her scimitar as she frowned at it.
It wasn't moving.
She crept around it, keeping to the shadows as she slowly moved behind it. She turned to face the door then frowned in consternation. There were bars on the door.
That meant she had to defeat something in order to trigger their release.
She slipped back around the chair and stepped out of the shadows, pulling her sword out of its sheath and raising it at the armored thing.
It didn't react.
She frowned at it.
Was it even alive?
Something tickled the back of her memory.
She knew what this was . . . but she couldn't quite remember . . .
Link had said something about it . . .
What had he said?
She walked cautiously up to it, keeping her sword raised.
It still didn't react.
Still frowning she slipped her scimitar back into its sheath and dropped into a cross-legged position on the floor in front of it.
What did she have to do?
As she sat and pondered her mind wandered to the circumstances that had brought her here in the first place.
"I have a job for you, Neesha," Rue said. "A very important one." She fell silent again as they walked, choosing her words carefully. "Our new King is . . . quite a bit different than our last one. It's still too soon to say, but I think–" She eyed the younger Gerudo suddenly "– and this is strictly between you and me – that given a bit of training he might turn out to be a fine King indeed. If we can keep him alive long enough."
"He's quite capable," Neesha said with a frown. "Now that he's got his memories back I bet he could beat half the Red, and maybe even some of the White."
"It's not his fighting skills that I doubt," Rue said. "It's his . . . willingness to trust." She shook her head.
"Is . . . is this about him taking Jinni?" Neesha asked hesitantly.
"Partly," Rue admitted. "While I partly agree with his punishment for her – it was a wise move given his current situation here – it sets a dangerous precedent. I don't believe Jinni will hurt him. I believe she will carry out her duty like a true Gerudo. But the next woman he spares might not be so faithful. And mark my words he will spare more." She shook her head again. "It's not his enemies that bother me. It's the people he thinks are his allies. He needs someone who can watch his back for him. He needs someone who can keep an eye on the people around him and make sure none of them are hiding knives when they reach out to shake his hand."
"But you . . ." Rue waved her hand, cutting Neesha off.
"He won't listen to me," she said. "He's stubborn, and he's already identified me as an authority figure, trying to tell him who to be, and how to act." She smiled wryly. "And he's correct in that. That's my job, but he's not going to make it an easy one. The instant I tell him what to do, he bucks me, and I respect him for that, and I don't want to change it. He is the King, after all, and he'll do as he pleases. But he needs someone there who's going to make sure that what he pleases doesn't get him killed." She stopped and turned to face Neesha. "Are you following me, child? Do you understand?" Neesha hesitated for just a moment, then:
"You're saying . . . he needs a friend."
Rue's face softened slightly.
"I guess I am," she said softly.
"He has Hunter . . ."
"The Sheikah?" Rue asked, then shook her head. "The Sheikah's not enough. He's too . . . gentle. He's too soft. He's . . ."
"He's not Gerudo," Neesha supplied caustically, then froze, horrified at her own audacity. Again Rue's face softened. She didn't look angry.
"Yes, child," she said. "He's not Gerudo."
"With all due respect, Rue," Neesha said quietly, averting her gaze. "The Great War ended nearly twenty years ago."
"I know, little one," Rue said, passing a hand over her face tiredly. "I know. But it's hard sometimes . . . to forget. You've yet to experience war in all its glory. In all its horror. It's not something easily solved with a treaty or a handshake. That ends the war. But the hate . . . the hate takes much more than that."
"We can trust Hunter," Neesha said. "I know we can. He'd never do anything to hurt Link."
"I know, child," Rue replied, turning around and walking again. "But Hunter is still not enough. Link is going to need more than one friend in the times ahead. He'll need more than one protector."
"Surely, the Elite . . ."
"The Elite," Rue interrupted, "is an argument I lost with him before I even got a chance to argue my case. He will refuse the Elite. He already has. And he'll refuse any other Gerudo I try and assign to protect him. Any other Gerudo . . . except for you." She stopped again and turned to face Neesha. "You are the only one he'll agree to take with him. Because of this, you have a duty to protect him." Neesha shook her head and frowned.
"But . . . I'm only a Purple . . . I'm . . . not even a woman yet. How can I . . ."
"You will set out for the SpiritTemple immediately," Rue said. "Alone. You will single-handedly finish what the Sages set out to do and destroy the last of Ganondorf's great minions."
"The Witches?" Neesha asked in disbelief.
"Yes," Rue replied. "This is a two-fold mission. The first, is to successfully navigate the SpiritTemple. As proof that you have done so you are to bring back two things: the Silver Gauntlets, and the Mirror Shield. This is your Rite of Passage Mission. Succeed and you will be welcomed among us as a full-grown sister. No longer a girl, but a woman. The second is to cleanse the Temple of Evil. Destroy the Witches by any means possible, and bring back their brooms as proof. To succeed in this is to prove yourself worthy of the Red. You will be given your new uniform upon your successful return." Neesha stared at her with open shock on her face. "Then you will begin your new mission, as the King's guardian, and friend. Neesha, of the Purple, are you up to the task set before you?"
Ever so slowly the shock faded from the young girl's face and her features set themselves into a determined cast. Her eyes flashed.
"Yes."
"Maybe it's a switch," she murmured to herself, climbing back to her feet and approaching the armor once again. "Do I have to push it?"
The instant her hands touched the cold metal, Link's words came back to her . . .
"I think the worst petty, non-boss type monster I ever had to fight were the Iron Knuckles. First off, they're huge. Like friggin' three Bruiser's all jammed into one suit of armor. Secondly, they don't just hit you. The mash you into a bloody pulp and send you flying across the room. The first time I saw one, I though maybe it was a switch or something because it didn't react to me at all. But when I touched it . . . BAM!"
Warmth bleed into the metal under her hands and her eyes widened.
"Damn!" She gasped, twisting around and running the other way. The huge axe in its hands slammed into the ground, two inches away from her back, and the force of it sent her tumbling to the ground. She got back up to her feet in a hurry and stared at the Iron Knuckle as it lurched slowly towards her, each step sending a tremor through the ground.
"Oh this is so not good . . ."
xxx
"You did what?"
"I sent her to cleanse the Spirit Temple," Rue replied calmly. "Are you losing your hearing?" The Elite stared at her in shock.
"You sent her on a suicide mission!" One of them cried.
"She's just a girl! She can't possibly succeed!"
"She's not old enough! You've overstepped your bounds, Rue!"
"There's never been a girl that young given her Rite of Passage, let alone inducted into the Red!"
"Precisely," Rue answered. "And this mission is the only one that would give undeniable proof of her worthiness to do just that. If she succeeds at this there won't be a woman in this fort who can deny that she's deserving of both becoming a woman, and of joining the Red."
"But . . ."
"Look, I've explained to you why I chose to do this," Rue snapped in irritation. "You all know we have little choice."
"You could have at least waited until she was old enough," one of the Elite said with a frown. "Rue, she's just a little girl."
"A very skilled little girl," Rue replied softly. "She can handle this. We must have faith in her abilities." For a moment no one said nothing.
"It's sure going to be quiet around here if she dies," one of them murmured softly.
The Elite bowed their heads as one and prayed for her safe return.
xxx
Neesha staggered through the door, ignoring the sound of pieces of armor rolling across the floor from the just defeated Iron Knuckle. She hurt all over. She had a deep gash down her arm, and blood flowed freely from a wound that stretched from just below her neck to the small of her back. Her skin and clothes were ripped and torn from the shrapnel that exploded from the pillars every time the Iron Knuckle had knocked one of them down, and she was pretty sure most of her ribs were bruised, if not broken. She coughed weakly and fell to her knees. Groaning at the effort, and at the pain the move inflicted, she reached over her shoulder and pulled her bag off her back, peering into it. She reached in and pulled out a bottle filled with a crimson liquid.
"Thank the goddesses for potions," she whispered, downing the entire contents in one go.
As the potion began to take effect she idly wondered if Jinni had ever noticed it missing.
Waiting until she was sure the least of her wounds were gone and the worst of them had at least closed and stopped bleeding she pushed herself stiffly to her feet.
She was outside, standing on some part of the Goddess that was the Spirit Temple.
And right in front of her was a Big Chest.
Her heart fluttered in anticipation as she flung her bag back onto her back.
"Please be the shield, please be the shield, please be the shield . . ." She shoved the lid up, afraid to look at the contents. "Oh Goddesses, don't let it be the Compass . . ." She opened up one eye and peered inside.
The symbol of the Gerudo glinted back at her in the Desert sun.
"Oh thank Din!" She gasped, reaching in and grabbing the Mirror Shield. She held it up for a moment, admiring it.
It was exactly like Link's. A crimson border outlined it and the surface was a silver mirror.
For a moment she considered calling it quits and heading home with what she had.
She had completed the first half of her mission.
She had completed her Rite of Passage.
She would be considered an adult now.
But was it enough?
She wanted the Red . . . wanted it so bad she could taste it . . .
But could she handle it?
The Iron Knuckle had nearly done her in . . . and the Witches were so much more powerful . . .
The image of herself dressed in red floated through her mind.
The youngest Gerudo to ever be inducted into the Red.
The glory, the pride, the honour . . .
She slipped the shield onto her back. It was too big for her, but she'd get used to it . . .
If Link could do it, she could do it.
She wasn't ready to go home just yet.
xxx
Hunter stared down into the hole Link and Malon had jumped down, but didn't move. For a long moment, neither he, nor his father said anything. Then:
"You're not coming with us, are you?" He asked. Bruiser sighed heavily.
"No," he said. "I'm not coming with you."
"So you lied," Hunter said, irritation creeping into his voice.
"I did," Bruiser admitted. "Because the three of you left me no choice."
"There's always a choice, Dad," Hunter said darkly. "You're the one who told me that. Are you going to take it back now?"
"No," Bruiser said. "Because you're right. There's always a choice. Always. But what else did I tell you?" Hunter looked away and closed his eyes.
"To always make sure you make the right one," he said, his voice thick.
"Exactly," Bruiser said. "And I'm making the choice that I have to right now. I have to stay here, Hunter. You know it as well as I do. The time will come for us to fight, and these people are going to need someone here to show them how." Hunter looked up desperately.
"Then I'll –"
"Stop and think about what you're going to say, son," Bruiser interrupted, his face serious. "This choice is yours. I won't stop you either way. But think for a minute before you make it impulsively. Which one is the right choice, Hunter. Where can you do the most good?" Hunter closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the top of the tombstone he was standing behind.
It wasn't fair.
It just wasn't fair . . .
"Be strong, Hunter," Bruiser said. "Don't go soft on me now. You know what you have to do."
For a moment Hunter didn't reply.
Then he straightened slowly and looked at his father, trying to reign in his emotions.
"Link figures we've got about a month," he said. "He says if the Moblins are going to try something, they're going to try it on his birthday, because that seems to be a big date as far as this kind of thing goes. We're going to attack first if we can get everyone together. If you're going to make a move, make it then. The Moblins will be divided. They won't be able to get backup from Castletown." Bruiser nodded.
"Thanks for the tip," he said. "We'll be ready." They stared at each other for a moment longer.
"Take care of each other, Hunter," he said quietly after a moment. "You two are family."
"I know, Dad," Hunter said, moving to drop into the grave.
"Oh, and Hunter," Bruiser added. "Since I won't be able to say it in a couple weeks . . ." He dropped something on the ground behind Hunter. Blinking in surprise Hunter turned to see what it was. The fading light glinted off an intricately carved sheath and shone on the symbol of the Sheikah engraved into the hilt of the sword in the sheath. Hunter's eyes widened. "Happy birthday." He looked up at Bruiser who smiled slightly and nodded. He reached out hesitantly and picked up the sword.
"Dad . . ." He whispered, clutching it tightly. "This is . . ."
"It's a family heirloom," Bruiser said. "You'd better treasure it, kid. I had to fight Brayden tooth and nail to get it when our father died." An evil grin lit up his face for a moment. "And then I never used it, just because I knew it would bother him." Hunter smiled despite himself. "I was planning on saving it for your Quisros, but it looks like that'll have to be delayed now, and I think you're going to need it."
"Thanks, Dad," he said softly. He looked away again. "For everything."
"I thought I told you not to go soft on me," Bruiser growled, wishing he didn't feel quite so soft himself.
"Right," Hunter said, grinning crookedly at him. "Be strong. Take care of myself. Take care of Link. Treasure the sword. Is that everything, or is there some other ultra-important task you want to set before me?"
"Get going, smart-guy," Bruiser said, gesturing at the hole. "You're going to get caught if you wait anymore."
"Be careful Dad," Hunter said. "See you in a month!"
He dropped out of sight.
Bruiser stared at the hole for a long moment, then pushed the grave back over it. He turned and started to head back to town, then stopped for a moment and walked up the graveyard path instead, moving towards a small grave set towards the back.
He almost couldn't make out the words carved above a pair of dates in the growing dark, but it didn't matter. He knew them off by heart.
'Aeria of the Sheikah
Beloved in life. Beloved in death.
Never to be forgotten.'
He gently ran his fingers over the words and bowed his head.
"He turned out all right, Aeria," he whispered. "You'd be proud of him."
The sound of heavy feet broke the silence of the graveyard and the Moblins shouted in surprise when they saw him, pointing and running towards him to take him back to the village.
"I know I am."
xxx
A (Brief) Chapter 28
I raise my shield and ignore the tingling pain that runs through my arm when one of Vicea's scimitars strikes it. I rip my arm to the side, sending her weapon sliding back and off my shield and take advantage of her imbalance by thrusting at her stomach with the Master Sword. She twists around just in time to knock it off course with her other scimitar and recovers from her last swing by bringing her first weapon sliding towards my head. I raise the shield again and jump back, narrowly avoiding her second blade as the first clangs uselessly off my shield.
"Maybe you should get someone to look at that throat of yours," I suggest between pants. "Looks painful."
"Allow me to show you real pain," she snarls, doubling the speed of her attacks.
I'd like to say I'm unfazed by the increase in speed.
Hell, I'd be ecstatic at this point if I could say I was even keeping up . . .
But I'm wilting like a Zora in the desert.
My whole body is screaming at me that it hates me for putting me through this and if I don't stop soon it's just gonna quit on me.
Which would ultimately result in my death at this point.
So I keep fighting.
And bleeding.
Malon watches with horrified eyes as Vicea and I fight, Jinni watches with a disaffected expression on her face, and Hunter . . .
Hey!
Where is Hunter?
I knock Vicea back and risk a quick glance around.
He didn't jump down. Bruiser didn't either.
My heart jumps into my throat.
What if they got caught?
Vicea leaps at me again, and I raise my shield to meet her attack, but the move is unnecessary.
Right on cue, Hunter drops from the roof and lands on Vicea, knocking her flat on her back.
"Nice of you to join the party," I say weakly. He cocks his head and grins.
"Smashing entrance, eh?" He quips. "Who'd I land . . . sweet merciful Din! Vicea!"
"Get off!" The Gerudo snarls, struggling furiously.
"No," Hunter says, frowning down at her. "No, I don't think I . . ." He's cut off as Vicea's sword arm – complete with sword – slashes up at him. He gasps and scrambles off of her, the sword just missing his head.
"Hunter, forget Vicea!" I say as she pushes herself to her feet. "Get Malon!"
"Where's Malon?" He demands.
"Jinni's got her!" I cry, ducking under Vicea's swing. "Behind you!"
"Jinni," I can hear Hunter mutter as he turns around. "Wish I could have landed on her." I immediately lose track of Hunter, Malon and Jinni, however, when I finally falter enough to let Vicea get a hit in.
And she makes it count.
Her first scimitar bites deep into my side.
I gasp and stumble backwards.
Her second scimitar pierces my shoulder and renders my shield arm useless.
I just manage to bring my sword up in time to stop a third thrust, but that's all I manage. I lose my balance and topple over.
As I fall I catch a glimpse of the drama going on behind Vicea.
Hunter and Vicea are fighting verbally. I can't make out what they're saying, but neither one of them looks incredibly happy. Malon looks furious and frightened at the same time.
Vicea leaps at me before I hit the ground.
Jinni snarls and hurls Malon at Hunter. The Sheikah catches her, but they both go down in a heap as Jinni leaps over them.
Then all I see is Vicea, scimitar extended, leaping at my wide open chest.
I was born in these Caverns.
Never really thought I'd die here too.
But somehow – miraculously or maybe not – I'm not the one who dies.
Vicea stops short, her eyes suddenly wide. Her mouth works but no sound comes out.
A bloody scimitar is protruding from her chest.
The scimitar disappears and Vicea stumbles, then falls to the side.
Now, standing above me, is Jinni, a fierce look on her face.
"Sister . . ." Vicea whispers. Jinni shakes her head.
"I know who my sisters are," she whispers. "And you're not one of them."
The light fades from Vicea's eyes and she's still.
I open my mouth to comment, but Hunter's suddenly standing over me, facing Jinni, with his sword out.
"What, the Hell, just happened here?" He demands, staring at Jinni. "Who's side are you on anyway?" Jinni pulls a cloth out of her pocket and wipes the blood off her scimitar.
"I should think that would be obvious at this point," she says flatly.
"What's I saw," Hunter says, just as flatly, "is that you were holding Malon hostage, while Vicea tried to kill Link. And then, for whatever reason, you killed Vicea." He raises an eyebrow. "And you're trying to tell me what side you're on should be obvious?" Jinni points down at me.
"He told me to make a choice," she says. "So I did." She looks down at me. "I chose life."
"Did you have to wait so long to chose?" I ask weakly, struggling to my feet, wincing the whole way. "I mean . . . you couldn't have killed her before she stabbed me multiple times?"
"Would have," Jinni said. "But your little Sheikah pet here got in my way."
"Why did you threaten Malon?" Hunter demands.
"I didn't," Jinni says. "I didn't ever threaten her. I came with Vicea so she wouldn't take any of the Moblins along with her when she went after you. She was cocky and overconfident. Always has been. And I held what's-her-name to keep her from getting in the way when I went after Vicea, and to continue the charade that I was on Vicea's side." She tossed her hair and turned on her heel. "If you're done interrogating me now, maybe you can put your sword away and prevent the King from bleeding to death." Hunter watches her warily for a moment, then sheaths his sword and turns to me.
"Have I mentioned the fact that I really don't like her?" He asks me crankily
"I took it for granted," I tell him.
"You sure we can trust her?" Hunter demands, ripping the sleeves off his uniform to make bandages. I look over at where Jinni is talking softly with Malon, an apologetic look on her face.
"I don't think she's going to kill us any time soon, if that's what you mean," I say. "I think she's genuine in her decision to stick with us. But she has an . . . interesting brand of protection." I wince as Hunter ties his makeshift bandage around my arm tightly. "Hey, Hunter," I say after a moment.
"Hmm?" He asks, studying my side.
"Bruiser's not coming, is he?" I ask. Hunter avoids my gaze and shakes his head. "You all right?" I ask him.
"Are you?" He replies.
"I am if you are," I answer.
"Well then," he says. "I guess I'm fine."
"Good," I answer. "Me too." I look at him as he straightens. "You know the way to Goron City from here?" I ask.
"Of course," He replies with a grin. "I know everything."
"Right," I say dryly. "Lead the way then, Mr. Know-It-All."
"Don't mind if I do," he says, starting towards Malon and Jinni.
"Hey," I ask him as we walk through the Caverns, a few steps ahead of Malon and Jinni, "what do you think the odds are of us hiding this whole . . . escapade from Rue?"
"Well," Hunter says, scratching his chin, "assuming we get you all healed up and remove any visible signs of the beatings you earned yourself, and come up with a half-decent excuse as to why it took us so much longer than we thought it was going to . . . Jinni would still tell her everything, and you're screwed either way."
I sigh.
"That's what I thought."