Zelda's head was throbbing as she finally opened her eyes. This puzzled her for a moment, because she had always assumed that the dead felt no pain. She decided that if she was still in pain, then it stood to reason that she was in fact still alive. But then, if that were so, the pain should be in her shoulder, where she had been wounded. This too, she discovered as she tried to sit up, was true. "Goddesses," she mumbled as she raised her uninjured arm to cradle her head.
"You should be thanking them," a voice said from beside her. She looked over and saw Impa standing above her, stiff as a statue. It seemed as if she were waging some inner personal battle, as her face couldn't decide whether or not it wanted to look angry, relieved, or both. "If it had not been for General Gustan and Epona, you would be lying dead on the battlefield."
Her voice was pained and hoarse, Zelda noticed, and it was only then that she realized the strain she must have put the older woman through. Though her official title was bodyguard, for all intents and purposes, Impa had been Zelda's mother; watching Zelda lead the charge into battle against an army must have been torture for her. She suddenly found it hard to hold Impa's gaze. "I am sorry, Impa," she started. "I had to do something. Rauru could not have dispelled the darkness alone, and I couldn't let my people die like that."
Impa remained silent for a long, uncomfortable moment, then let all are defenses down and surrendered to the urge to smile. "I understand, highness. I just wish at times that your parents' hands-on approach to problems might have skipped your generation."
Despite the pain it brought to her head, Zelda couldn't help but laugh. Brushing her long golden hair from her face, her demeanor became serious. "What happened after I was felled? How did the battle end?"
"For all intents and purposes," a small voice piped from the doorway, "We won." Zelda turned to see Saria enter into the room, Navi hovering above her shoulder. "Our army managed to push Ganon's back to the beginning of the Hylian Wall before Darunia called the retreat," Navi continued. "In the two days since then, there've been no more attacks."
Zelda's mood instantly brightened at the news. "Then we have gained the upper hand? We now have the advantage in numbers?" Her momentary elation faded as soon as she saw the expressions on their faces.
"No," Saria shook her head miserably. "The latest reports say they still outnumber us, though not as badly as before. Darunia and Nabooru think we only managed to push them back because Rolondrof panicked and called a premature retreat."
Zelda sighed and held her head in her free hand. "Then we have no advantage," she amended. "We're right back where we started."
"Oh no, not at all!" Navi was quick to point out. "You managed to do a great deal. You broke through Rolondrof's spell, and it will take him a long time until he can prepare another of that power. We've beaten them back, something they never imagined happening in a million years. And most importantly, we've bought Malon and the others more time to find the Triforce."
"Speaking of which," Impa asked, "Have you or Rauru had any contact with your accomplice in the Sacred Realm…Bazillo was his name?"
"Yes, Bazillo," Rauru answered as he hopped into the room. "Navi and I have both tried contacting him, but so far we have been unsuccessful. That could mean one of several options: either he is close to the Triforce and its considerable magic is obscuring his own, he is occupied and cannot answer our call, or…"
"Or he is dead," Zelda finished. "And likely the rest of the Chosen." The silence that followed was almost palpable.
"Well…umm…y'know, maybe no news is good news," Saria offered after a long while. "Anyway, we can't do anything to help them here, and we have more immediate concerns."
"I agree with the child," a new voice broke in. It was deep and strong, if a little unsteady, and one Zelda had been longing to hear for far too long.
"Father?" she gasped. She looked over towards the doorway, past Impa, Navi, and Saria, and choked at what she saw. Standing in the entrance, leaning heavily on a cane but still managing to maintain an aura of authority, was Jax, King of Hyrule.
"Daddy!" Zelda cried, losing all pretense of composure. While the others bowed their heads in respect, she struggled to her own feet and made her way over to embrace her father. She was momentarily saddened when she realized that the hug he gave her was not as strong as it used to be, but at the moment she was too overcome by happiness to care. She looked up into his strong, bearded face and smiled. "Oh father…I've been so lost without you. We all have."
"And I without you," Jax replied, smiling gently down upon his daughter, his free hand reaching up to stroke her hair. "But it was your strength that brought me back. You and your friends." He looked around the room at the others, as Saria held back tears of joy and Impa fought unsuccessfully against the smile creeping across her lips.
"Perhaps we should leave the king and princess alone for a moment," Rauru offered, a smile also plastered on his beak as he lead the others out of the room. Jax looked quizzically at the talking bird as he passed, then shrugged his shoulders as if such things were the norm.
"So," he started. "Darunia tells me that I have missed a great deal of action during my nap. And he also tells me that I should be extremely proud of my daughter."
Zelda couldn't help but blush as she rested her head against his chest. "I have done nothing, father. Darunia, Nabooru and General Gustan are responsible for our survival. If anything, all I've done is cause more trouble."
"Nonsense. You have led our people—a people untouched by violence for nearly twenty years—against an aggressive and bloodthirsty army in a war against annihilation, and you have succeeded. We are still here, and you have shown our enemy that Hyrule will never go down without a fight." He lifted her chin until she was looking at him. "You've done all I would have done and more. Your mother would have been proud."
Despite her best efforts, the thought of her dead mother forced Zelda's mind to wander to her other dead family member, prompting tears to begin falling from her eyes. "Oh daddy, I've done something terrible. I…I…"
"What is it sweetheart?"
"My brother…I found him. I finally found him. All these years, he was alive."
Jax's face went through a mix of emotions; at first it was confused, then joyful, then confused again. "What? Who…"
"It was Link."
"Link? Your little friend in the green hat?"
Zelda nodded, trying to find the words for what she had to say next. "Yes. All those years he was with us…and we never even guessed it. And I…" she choked back on her tears. "I lost him…"
Jax remained silent for a long, uncomfortable moment. "Lost?" he finally managed to whisper. "What…what do you…"
"You had better sit down, father," Zelda cut him off, holding him close. "A lot more has happened than the war."
* * *
"Y'know," Zakro finally said, "I can count the number of times I've been speechless in my life on one hand, but I must say this one takes the cake."
"Even when he's speechless, he can still talk a mouthful," Numaru joked, but she was also at a loss for words as she craned her neck to stare at the sight before them.
"Wow…" was all Malon could think to say.
The Chosen stood amidst the ruins of what had once been a strong and mighty city, surrounding three massive stone pyramids. The Triune. They were the biggest structures Malon had ever seen, almost the size of a small mountain, and she could tell from the awestruck looks on her friends' faces that they were equally amazed.
The city itself was something to marvel at. Littered across the paved yet overgrown roads were massive stone blocks and the remains of huge buildings and homes. A thick layer of vines and foliage covered much of the surface, by the burnished yellow stone could still be seen underneath. They had only peeked in a few of the buildings, but the remains of furniture of various shapes and sizes could still be distinguished.
"Tell me, Bazillo," Mattalla asked the sprite perched on his shoulder. "How is it that you sprites were able to create such a city? And why would you make everything so big?"
"Hmm, all shapes and sizes we sprites may appear, and as such a variety of homes you'll find here. Some of us are big and some of us are small, but Bazillo, my friends, is the handsomest of all."
"I'm guessing magic was used," Shrike mused, prompting a nod from Bazillo. "If this is truly where the Triforce can be found, there must be enough ambient magic in this place to create three cities."
"Let's be thankful we only have the one to search through," Numaru replied. "Necron is only a day behind us, and we'll have to use that time wisely if we are to survive long enough to find the Triforce."
"We already know where it'll be," Malon said. "'When the sun sets on the Sabbath day of the second moon, look to the central mound'. At least that's what Konai said, and Bazillo confirms that fact. We have until sunset tomorrow."
"Which reminds me," Zakro said, turning to Bazillo, the skepticism clear on his face. "If you already knew where and how to find the Triforce, why didn't you just tell us straight out? You could have saved us a lot of time and a hell of a lot of trouble."
Bazillo merely smiled. "Hmm, yes, yes, had I wanted I suppose I could, but the question of the matter was whether or not I should. Suppose I had led you to where the Triforce be…how then would I know the worthiness of thee? Bazillo will help you as best as he may, but the final decisions you must choose your own way. Destiny states you should be on your own, and for breaking this rule my own fate is sown. It will not be pleasant when my own judgment comes, much like slivers under the nails of my thumbs."
"Then why help us at all?" Zakro pressed, not entirely convinced. "What's in it for you?"
It was Malon who answered. "Because sooner or later you have to choose a side; you can't straddle the fence forever. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm glad that Bazillo decided to hop over to our side."
The little sprite hid his face, as if he was blushing, as the others added their thanks, even Zakro. "Well," Shrike said after a while, bringing the discussion back to the matter at hand, "I suppose it couldn't hurt to explore the pyramids. We may find something useful to use against Necron tomorrow."
"Did the sprites use any weapons, Bazillo?" Mattalla asked.
"Hmm, yes we did, in wars long ago, but into that sad tale Bazillo will not go. Let me just say that before you you see the ruins of what it took for my race to be free. Though it has been ages since my feet touched this ground, I believe that the weapons were hid in the right mound."
* * *
The pyramid looked even bigger from the inside, if that was even possible. Massive halls and corridors filled the structure, the walls lined with more vegetation, lit by an ingenious array of well-placed mirrors and windows. Had it not been for Bazillo, Malon was positive that they would have been lost after the first ten minutes. The sprite led them straight down into the bowels of the pyramid, where they found what had once been a storehouse for vehicles and weapons.
But, as Malon's father had been apt to say, there was finding and there was 'finding'.
"Junk," Zakro spat as he chucked a rusted sword to the ground. "All of it is junk."
"I would have to agree," Mattalla added, examining a heavy battle-axe. "Some of these weapons can be used, but nothing that would be of any use, save that catapult over there," the Goron motioned to the large wooden war machine. "But that will do little to help us."
"I can still use some of these arrows," Numaru said, examining a cache of shafts. "And several of these crossbows are still in working order."
They continued to discuss the quality of the armaments around them, and with each comment Malon felt her heart sink a little lower. "I'm in WAY over my head here…" she thought, and not for the first time. "Why did all this happen to me?" The answer, she realized, was that she had asked for it, literally, by volunteering to join the Chosen on their quest. Link had tried to persuade her not to go, but she had been foolhardy and childish enough to believe that she could handle herself in an unknown world fighting along the greatest warriors in Hyrule. So far, she had managed to kill the Hero of Time, lead her friends into captivity and torture, and now here she was leading them into battle against an army headed by a centuries old warlock for the fate of not one, but two worlds.
Link had sure picked a swell time to leave her alone.
She walked among the wrecks of what had once been air-bikes and what Shrike had deduced to be other flying vehicles. The weapons systems on some of them still work, Shrike had told her, but all but one of them would never fly again, and that one, naturally, had no weapons. Were Malon a bitter woman—and that option seemed awfully appealing at the moment—she would have to think that the goddesses were having fun making their saviors' job as difficult as possible.
She looked over at the door Shrike had disappeared into a few minutes before, and as if on cue, she saw him dive out of the room followed by a loud explosion and a spray of water. Malon rushed over to the Sheikah to make sure that he was unharmed. "Shrike, are you okay?"
"Excellent, actually," he answered with complete honesty. "I think I found something that may be of use to us in that other room." With that, Malon called the others over and Shrike led them back through the door into a smaller room. Though not as well lit as the other room, Malon could make out what appeared to be a workshop of some sort, tools littered over benches and various objects in various stages of development. She could hear running water against one wall, and when she looked over she saw a wide drainage chute, water flowing swiftly into some sort of sewage system.
"Nifty, Shrike," she said after the others had a chance to examine the room. "But what could we possibly use in here?"
Shrike stepped up to a bunch and held up a large round object in each hand. They appeared to be bombs, but much larger than the kind found in Hyrule. "They're bombs," Shrike confirmed, "But infinitely more powerful than the Hylian or even the Goron variety. They're magical in nature, much like the Din's Fire spell Link used to cast. These switches on top," he pointed to several colorful knobs and buttons, "can control the area covered by the explosion, at least that's what my 'experiment' just concluded. The blast can erupt in the common, random way, or it can be focused into a single straight line. Really an ingenious creation. Anyway, though it will take me a little while to figure out their exact capabilities, they're in great quantity, and I believe we will be able to use them to our advantage against Necron."
"I'm sure they will, Shrike," Zakro piped in, and Malon could already sense the 'but' coming. "But I don't think it'll be enough. Necron's one of the most powerful mages ever, and right now he's madder than a starving Goron. Not to mention the fact that he has over three hundred soldiers in his army, all on air-bikes.
Bazillo shook his head in disagreement. "Hmm, not all, my friends, for it would seem that many a bike has been lost from his team."
Zakro brushed the comment aside. "Whatever. My point is that while we may have been able to beat a hundred of them, there's no way we'll be able to beat three times that many, even if we had all the weapons and 'boom-booms' in the world. We can't win, and I don't think that we should even try. Our priority is the Triforce, and we can't get it if we're all dead. Look, I'm a king, so I unfortunately have had to learn to shelve my pride for the good of others, and any sane person would see that I'm right. I say we just hide out in here or in one of the other buildings and last long enough to grab the Triforce when it appears."
"Those are the words of a coward, Zakro," Mattalla growled. The Zora king's face hardened, and his arm fins extended instinctively, though he quickly retracted them. "I had thought you of all people…"
"While I have never been one to bury my head in the sand and wait for an enemy," Numaru said, both literally and metaphorically stepping between Mattalla and Zakro, "The odds are definitely not in our favor, and Zakro is right; the Triforce is our primary concern. And if we must sacrifice honor for practicality…" She let the thought hang.
"But who is to say that will even work?" Mattalla argued. "Who's to say that Necron won't reach the Triforce before us anyway, or that he won't just destroy every building in this city just to make sure we are dead? If we hide we will…"
And they were off, the three of them arguing over which would be the best course of action to take, and Malon found that she was unable to decide which argument was more convincing. She looked over to where Bazillo sat perched on one of the workbenches, his face an unreadable mask. Finally, Shrike got fed up and threw a flash pellet onto the ground between them. "Enough!" he commanded, bringing silence to the room. "The time we waste arguing is time we could be using to formulate a plan. And you all seem to have forgotten about our leader's opinion."
Four pairs of eyes turned to the small redheaded farmer, and once again she felt the pressure of the role Link's death and forced on her. "You can't ask me to choose," she told them. "Every decision I've made since coming here has been wrong. I'm no warrior; I've only been fighting for a couple of months! You're the greatest heroes of all the races! I have no right to be telling you what to do, and you definitely have no obligation to listen to anything I say."
They all stared at her for a moment, then Zakro said, "Malon, are you insane? Of course we care what you have to say."
Malon was completely lost. "Huh? But didn't you just say…"
"Who cares what I said. I'm an ass by nature; I'm not so blind that I can't see that. But we've wanted your opinions since we got to this damnable realm, and despite what I may feel personally, we'll listen to them."
Malon was shocked. They were doing it again! Making her choose whether they would live or die. Her mouth moved, trying to form words, but nothing came out. Instead, she looked to Bazillo, but the sprite merely said, "Hmm, my role here my friends is only as guide. The decisions of destiny are for you to decide. I will be here after, as I was here before, but now comes the time to see what you all were chosen for."
Her gave shifted next to Shrike, but he merely stood there, arms crossed over his chest and shaking his head. "My only advice is to follow your heart, Malon," he gently told her. "Wherever it leads you, I swear I will follow."
"We all will," Numaru assented, shooting Zakro a sharp look, but only out of habit, not necessity.
Malon felt an odd mixture of pride, fear, and acceptance. For the first time since joining the Chosen, she truly felt as if she belonged, as if she were important, and that feeling both pleased her and frightened her. She may not be comfortable with the decisions she would have to make, but now she understood that refusing to make them would be a betrayal of the trust they had all put in her.
The trust Link had put in her when he agreed to let her come.
Her hand moved to touch the green strip of cloth around her arm, her sole reminder of the man she had loved, the man who had led them. And in that moment, she knew what to do. Lifting her head to face them, her eyes blazing with courage and determination, she said, "My dad once told me that there are two types of people in the world: the hiders and the seekers. The hiders last longer, but they never get anything done. The seekers put more on the line, but the rewards are greater. If we follow either path, Necron will beat us, and Hyrule will fall. But," a sly grin crept across her face, "If we play it somewhere in between those two choices, we'll stand a good chance of coming out on top. And I think I know just the way to do it."
* * *
Ganon sat in what had once been the Mayor Kafei's office, one hand stroking his goatee, the other holding up the Fierce Deity Mask before him. He stared at the hated visage, so much like that of his hated foe, the man that—despite Ganon's best efforts—refused to be killed. There was a reason for the resemblance, Ganon realized, and he was sure there was some importance to the answer, but right now that didn't matter. At the moment, his only concern was on another mask, one that continued to elude him.
Through the vacant eyeholes of the mask he saw Bones standing across the desk, standing with the stiffness of a child who knows he's about to be punished but has still found the courage to face it like a man. Ganon watched the tattooed man for a moment then shifted his gaze back to the mask. "Do you ever think about the choices we make, Bones?" he asked, not expecting an answer and not getting it. "I used to wonder if our decisions were made purely of ourselves, or if some higher force subtly pushed us in the right direction."
Bones remained stiffly at attention, wisely waiting for Ganon to finish his thought. "I have come to the conclusion," the Gerudo went on, "That the little, inconsequential decisions, are left completely up to us; they have no bearing on our destiny, therefore they do not matter. But the important ones…the ones that we were born to make…those decisions are not ours. Those decisions are already made for us. But that does not mean that we can't cheat. When the situation arises that these pre-chosen decisions are made, I have found, we are left with one recourse, one loop hole through which we can escape fate: we can choose to do nothing. Now, can you see the problem with that conclusion Bones?"
Bones cleared his throat and replied, "It can be argued that the decision to do nothing is also one of those choices beyond our control."
"Exactly. And therein lies the contradiction: if our destiny is already set, then what is the point of choice? The answer is that all choice does is speed us along towards our destiny, either spurring us on our slowing us down. So while our destiny is already set, the speed in which we get there is entirely up to us. Now, I will admit that some of my choices have hindered me from my destiny," at this Ganon scowled at the mask before him, imagining Link's face. "But they have had a purpose: they have made me strong. Which is why I will not fail in obtaining the power that is destined to be mine. So I am sure you understand why I am so…dismayed…to be delayed by the unknown whereabouts of a piece of wood. Now, I want you to tell me everything you know of the Link's—the Gladiator's—final battle with Majora atop the Clock Tower and everything you know about the salesman who kept the mask."
Bones once again cleared his throat and began to speak. "From what I have gathered from the townsfolk, Link confronted the Skull-Kid, who was at that time possessed by Majora's evil, atop the Clock Tower on the day of the Festival. From there, Link called upon the four guardians of the world, who came from the four corners of the land to join in the middle, where the Clock Tower stands. From there, the stopped the moon just as it was about to crash down on the city. The details after this become a little hazy, but it is said that Link was drawn into the moon, and it was there that he battled the incarnation of Majora's evil and destroyed it, destroying the moon in the process. After that, the Skull-kid returned to normal, the giants returned to their homes, and the salesman took the lifeless mask and disappeared. When we caught the salesman several months ago, all he would tell us was that he had hidden the mask from any who would seek to use it. He said that he had hidden it 'where the four call home, where death reigns and life lords, where all begins and all ends, where time stands still'."
"Yes," Ganon mused, "It was that last part that confused me. It did not seem important at the time; he was near death, and he was already a fool to begin with. But now, having scoured the four corners, the 'homes' of the giants, I'm beginning to think that those last two hints should have told me everything. So now we come to it…the final piece of the puzzle…" He fell silent for a long while, lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out a clue that should have been obvious from the start.
And then it came to him, so easily that he was almost amazed that he hadn't seen it before. His face broke in to a wolfish grin, and Bones couldn't help but flinch at it. "Of course…" Ganon hissed. He then let out a loud bark of laughter. "Again, one of those decisions beyond my control, because of time, not any fault of mine. I suppose I should have known that from the beginning…"
"Sir?" Bones said uneasily, and Ganon's attention snapped back to him.
"How long until this Festival, Bones?" he demanded.
"Two days, sir."
"Excellent." Ganon's grin widened. "Send a message via Keese to our spy within the rebel camp and tell him to prepare. The time has come to end this once and for all. Termina and Hyrule will fall, Link will die, and at long, long last, my destiny will be fulfilled." He laughed again. "All it was was a matter of time."
