Necron usually preferred the darkness of night to the light of day, but as the sun rose on the Sacred Realm, he found himself welcoming the dawn of a new day. For today was the day that everything would change.
Today was the day he would be victorious.
He and his remaining men had stopped for one final rest before they reached the ruins. According to the scouts, they would be there just before sunset. Whether or not the Chosen were ahead of him was irrelevant; they were five and he still had three hundred warriors behind him. There was no way they would keep him from his prize.
Necron was not a contemplative man, but now he found himself in such a mood. Looking over his shoulder, he motioned for the nearest rat-man to come forward. The creature obeyed, though hesitantly, unsure of what the warlord could want. When he was before him, Necron motioned for the soldier to sit. "Y-you called, my lord?" the rat-man stammered.
For a long while Necron said nothing. He just sat there and stared at the creature through his death's head helmet. Finally, he said, "Do you ever wonder how your life would have been different, had circumstances be different?"
Clearly puzzled at the question, the soldier replied, "N-no, my lord. My imagination isn't that good, and I've always been taught to know my place."
Necron made a sound that might have been laugh. "Yes…to know our place. To know the boundaries set by our 'betters'. To grovel on our knees, adhering to every rule society places before us," he clenched and unclenched his fists, his muscles stiffening. "I was eleven when I first decided that I would not be cowed by those who would see me as such. No more would I let them beat me down, use me for their sport! I would become strong! Stronger than any who had come before! And when I had grown strong I would look down upon my tormentors and laugh…laugh because I had broken through their boundaries, raised above their childish taunts and cruel laughter. They would all know that it was in fact I who was their better, I who made the rules. But I would not stop with them…no, I would show the world, no, the goddesses themselves that I was second to no man! That it was my right to stand above all others and rule them as I saw fit."
"Now, with the Triforce all but in my grasp, that goal will be fulfilled. No one…not Ganon, not the goddesses, NO ONE…will stand in my way. I will have power beyond all reckoning. I will be the strongest one there is. I will conquer this realm that they banished me to, then I will return to the land that by all rights should be mine, and I will crush the ancestors of those who sought to hold me back, who sought to make me weak. And when I have done that…when all have bowed before me…" his eyes blazed with madness behind his helm, "…I will kill them all. Because I can. Because they would have done the same to me."
The rat-men stared at Necron in a mixture of awe and horror. The Dread Lord had never spoken in such a manner to anyone, especially not to a lowly soldier like himself. He wasn't sure if he should feel honored or frightened.
As if sensing his confusion, Necron looked directly on his henchman. "Shumbo always told me that venting my stress upon another would calm me. He always desired it to be him, but I did not trust it. But I find that he was right; I feel much better. You have been very helpful. Thank-you." With that, his arm lashed out and he seized the rat-man's head in one huge gauntleted fist. The soldier didn't even have time to scream before the flesh melted from his skull.
Tossing the body aside, he mounted his air-bike and rose into the air. "The break is over!" he ordered. "We go now to VICTORY!"
* * *
In a few hours time, Ganon would be the most powerful being to have ever existed. Though he supposed the feeling was natural, the Dark Lord really didn't like the feeling currently nestled in his stomach. That feeling was nervousness.
He didn't know why he was feeling that way, and as he paced through the former mayor's office, he tried to find the reason behind it. Skorn was already on his way back to Hyrule to secure victory on that front. He had recaptured most of the rebels, and the ones that had eluded him were hardly a threat. The power in the Fierce Deity Mask was ready to be transferred into Majora's Mask as soon as it revealed itself, and finally—finally—Link was dead. The only real threat to Ganon's power in all the realms was finally gone.
"But there was no body…"
Ganon quickly brushed the thought aside. Of course there hadn't been a body; he had sent it to the bottom of the ocean.
"But he was alive when I did…"
Only in the loosest use of the word, Ganon reasoned; the boy had been beaten until every breath became an effort, his body dismantled piece by piece. Skorn could have easily killed him with one final blow had Ganon allowed it. Even if he had been conscious underneath the waves, he couldn't possibly have had the strength or the means to escape.
"He's survived before…"
He couldn't argue that; that at least was true. During their first battles eight years ago, Link had survived every foe and every obstacle Ganon had placed in his path, from dragons to phantoms to Ganon himself. In the years since then, he had survived all manners of evil that even Ganon had thought would destroy him. Ganon had felt Link die in the Sacred Realm, only to mysteriously end up in Termina. That at least could be explained. Necron was a fool; even worse, he was insane. He would have underestimated Link, or brought about the means of his own failure without even knowing it. No, Ganon should have known better than to trust such a task to Necron. He had been foolish to get his hopes up.
"But there was no body…"
"HE IS DEAD!" Ganon thundered into the empty room. In his anger he unleashed to large balls of fire from his fists, setting the large wooden desk ablaze. A moment later, Smitts popped his head through the door a fearful expression on his face. "Boss?" he stammered. "Boss, everything all right in here?"
"GET OUT!" Ganon roared, sending another blast at the door. Smitts only just barely managed to pull his head away in time. Through the hole in the door Ganon watched the pathetic mercenary race out of the hall, most likely to the nearest lavatory. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal, and the fiery aura surrounding his fists vanished. Straightening his back and smoothing back his hair, he walked through the husk of the ruined desk and sat down in the chair, stroking his goatee thoughtfully, the only sign of his unease the occasional twitch of his left eyebrow.
* * *
The sun was at its apex as Malon walked through the ruins of the ancient city where she and the Chosen would make their last stand against Necron and his army, Bazillo at her side. The Chosen had decided on their strategy the previous night, and were currently putting the final touches on it as they prepared for their enemy's arrival, now only several hours away. She would have relatively little to do with the final battle, and this both angered her and—though the very thought was embarrassing—relieved her.
"Am I a coward, Bazillo?" she asked the little imp. "I mean, I want to fight with the others…I want to make a difference…but I can't help but feel a little glad. I hate myself for it, but…"
"Hmm, many faults you have, my dear, at least compared to me, but the mark of a coward I would not place on thee." Bazillo's beaked mouth split into a reassuring smile. "You have led the Chosen well since the death of the Hero, well enough to impress even the stubborn Bazillo. Your friends are as scared as you at what is to be, and in their own musings they have felt shame at their desires to flee. But they, like you, know what must be done to ensure you succeed and the Chosen have won."
Malon sighed unhappily. "I know, I know. This is the best plan we could come up with, and if we all play our parts, it should work. It's just that they've all placed so much faith in me, and feeling glad that I'll be out of harm's way while they do the fighting…it just feels like I'm betraying that trust."
"Suppose you did join in the main brunt of the attack," a new voice offered. "In all honesty, do you think that one more fighter will help increase our odds?" Shrike materialized out of the shadow of a building and fell into step beside them. His mask was down, revealing his entire face. "The same could be said for any of us. In this type of fight, one more sword isn't going to make much difference." He allowed himself a smirk that might have really been a laugh for the Sheikah. "In fact, I can honestly say that the rest of us wouldn't mind switching places with you."
"Then why don't you?" Malon pressed. "Why does it have to be me? Anyone of you could do my part…"
"Possibly," Shrike admitted. "But unlikely. Not as well as you could. You've been wondering what use you are to the team, what use your talents are. Has it occurred to you that maybe now is the time you answer those questions?"
Malon thought hard for a response to that, but one eluded her. "Damn Sheikah logic," she muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. How're the preparations coming along?"
"Wonderfully," This time it was Numaru who answered, as the three of them came up to where she was putting the final adjustments on one of the many traps they were setting for Necron. "I have finished with all my sectors, and last I heard from Zakro he was working on the last section of the sewers. He should be done shortly."
"Excellent," Shrike commended, helping the proud Gerudo to her feet. "I've just been explaining to our fearless leader why she has the 'lousy' assignment."
"Ah," Numaru laughed. "I knew that would come up sooner or later." She sat down on the crumbled remains of a stone wall and motioned for Malon to join her. "You must understand, little warrior, that all of us—Shrike, Mattalla, Zakro, and myself—are all soldiers. As such, we think and we plan like soldiers. Part of a soldier's duty, aside from completing the mission, is to ensure that the leader is alive long enough to ensure this happens, to compensate for anything that may come up. So really, the fact that we are taking you out of the main force isn't an insult, but a compliment to you and your skills." She laughed out loud. "We shame because we care."
"That, and your boyfriend would start spinning over in his grave if you got hurt."
Malon jumped at Zakro's voice and looked around for the Zora King. Strangely, he was nowhere to be seen.
"Down here,"
Looking down, Malon noticed a small drain covered by iron bars. Zakro's face was peeking out from between them. "Speaking as a married man, I know the last thing I would want would be to place Ruto in danger, and I know for damned sure that I would have some very sharp and very physical words to say to the man who put her in such a place, and you've been with me long enough to know I have both."
"Actually, it was Zakro who came up with your part for the battle," Shrike explained.
Malon regarded him with a confused expression. "But we were all together when we ironed out the details. We came up with the plan together…"
"The actual plan, yeah, that we all came up with," Zakro answered. "But the rest of us had been thinking about such an occasion for a while. Like Numaru said, we're soldiers; 'be prepared', and all that jazz. Keeping you safe from harm…that was all me, baby. Consider it a belated apology to a man who should have been my friend."
Malon smiled at him, and absently rubbed the strip of green cloth around her arm. "Why did you hate him, Zakro?" she finally asked. "What did he do to you to cause so much anger between you?"
Zakro's face hardened into its familiar stubborn shell, but only for a moment. Then, he replied, "I never hated him, no matter what I told myself. Really. He just…well, I'm a fairly proud man…"
Bazillo chuckled. "Hmm, as sure as the sky is welcome to a bird, that is the greatest understatement that I have ever heard."
"Shut up. What I mean is…" he paused, struggling for the words, and Malon couldn't help but appreciate just how difficult this was for him; he was, as he said a very proud man. Finally, he went on. "You all know how Link defeated that sea serpent in Lake Hylia a couple years ago. He defeated it after I had already tried and failed. And he was four years younger than me! I should have just let it rest at that, but I couldn't him. I challenged him to a duel to the death. I thought for sure I would win. But I didn't, and he spared my life, going against Zora law. And now that I've had time to think about it…the reason I acted so bitter and so stubborn to him was because I…I envied him. I envied his closeness to Ruto, I envied the respect he had among my own people, but most of all I envied his ability to see what was really worthwhile, what was more important than pride or honor: heart. Compassion. Strength of character. All things I thought I already had, things I didn't need to worry about. All it took for me to realize that I was wrong was his death."
They sat there, totally silent, for a long while, the confession sinking in. None of them knew what to say. Indeed, it seemed as if nothing else was needed. As usual, Zakro himself broke the silence with a loud cough. "Anyway," he said, back to his usual, grumpy self. "I didn't come up here to trade sob stories. I need some help down here with some grating that's in my way, so if you can separate yourselves from the tedious burden of slacking off, your help would be appreciated."
Shrike and Numaru told him they'd be right down, and left Malon and Bazillo to continue with their walk, giving a farmer a chance to think about Zakro's words. Heart. Compassion. Strength of character. Did she have these things? Or at the very least did she have enough of them to see this thing through.
She would find out all too soon, she feared.
"Mattalla," she asked the gigantic Goron as the came up to him, just as he put the finishing adjustments on the catapult they had found. "What scares you?"
For a long moment the Goron was silent. Then, cautiously looking all around them, he whispered, "Spiders. I cannot stand them. But don't tell the fish, or I'll never hear the end of it."
With a relieved laugh, Malon embraced the Goron as best she could. Mattalla, utterly confused, nevertheless returned the embrace.
* * *
"Is everything prepared?"
"Yes, Zelda. We're ready whenever you are."
Queen Zelda stood tall before her throne, dressed in her golden armor and wearing the royal crown upon her head. In front of her were Navi the other Sages, arranged in the circular positions they would have held in the Chamber of Sages. What they were about to attempt had never been done before, so there was no solid guarantee of success, but privately, Zelda didn't really mind. What she was about to do was just as much for herself as for her people.
Taking one deep, final breath, she nodded, signaling them to begin. The Sages returned the nod, and a moment later Zelda felt their magic reaching out to her. Adding her own, she set the spell in motion, silently praying for it to succeed. If it did, every living thing in the land would hear her next words.
"People of Hyrule," she started, her voice calm and steady. "Do not be alarmed; this is not some trick of the enemy, not some new way for them attack at us. This is Zelda, your queen. With me are the representatives of all our races, united as one, so that we may deliver this message to you: do not despair. Have no fear.
"I know that these may seem like empty words. I know that the threat before us makes it nearly impossible to believe in them. But believe. Believe in the goddesses, believe in our soldiers, but most importantly, believe in yourselves.
"An army of evil stands before us, seeking only the destruction to our way of life. They think that we are weak, foolish, that our desire for peace makes us easy prey. But we have proven them wrong. We have shown them that our desire to live in harmony is not a weakness. We have shown them that we will not go down without a fight.
"And that is exactly what we have done. We have fought them at every turn, and we have prevailed. They murdered the Zora deity Jabu-Jabu, thinking to dishearten them. The Zoras have left the safety of their waters to fight back. The enemy sought to obliterate the Goron race through disease and sickness. Now, the Gorons are on the frontlines, building our armor and weapons as well as fighting on. The Gerudo, torn and divided by the return of Ganon, have nevertheless joined against their former leader in the battle against evil. The spirits of the Forest themselves have joined their power with ours, seeking revenge against the force that would have burned them to the ground. Even as I speak, the greatest warriors of our world battle on in a faraway land, fighting for the key to our salvation. Every race, every good creature in Hyrule, stand united as never before against this foe. And that is why we will not fail, no matter what the cost."
She swallowed, preparing herself for the pain her next words would bring. "We have all lost something dear to us. Soldiers of all our races have valiantly laid down their lives for our freedom. Many of us have lost friends and loved ones to this war. Parents, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives. I have lost what remained of my family: my father, your king, and my brother, the man known as Link. But you have not given up, and neither will I." Her voice began to rise, and a golden glow came to her eyes. She raised her fist, the mark of the Triforce pulsing with power. "Do you hear me, Hyrule? I speak to you now not as your ruler, not as your queen, but as a Hylian. And I swear to you that we will not give up!
"We have fought and we have suffered. We have won and we have lost. But we will not give in. Everyday we live is a day we grow stronger and the enemy grows weaker. Every battle we win is just another nail in their coffin. We have shown them that we are not a land of weaklings and sentimental fools. We have shown them that our peace does not make us easy targets. We will not lay down and let them take our lives! We will not go quietly into the night! We will survive! We will prevail! Hylian, Goron, Zora, Gerudo, all of us! We will defeat the evil, and by the Triforce, I swear to you all that by the time this is over, everyone will know that no matter what the cost, as long as one free creature draws breath, HYRULE WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED!"
As if on cue, she felt the magic collapse, her connection to the people severed. The golden aura that had surrounded her faded, as did the multicolored glow surrounding the Sages. They were all breathing heavily from the strain of the spell. "Well," Saria panted. "Do you think it worked?"
Zelda shook her head, unsure as to their success. Then, softly at first, then gradually appearing in volume, they heard a noise. A moment later, Zelda had her answer.
The noise was the sound of cheering.
* * *
Kafei found Link in precisely—and literally—the last place he thought the young man would be, sitting at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the ocean. His sword lied naked at his side.
After pulling him out of the ocean, Romani, Boomer, and Rocky had brought him back to what remained of the rebel base. Ganon and the mercenaries had left as soon as their mission had been completed, apparently paying little heed to those few rebels that had managed to escape. Cremia had brought the escapees back out of the forest as soon as the sun had risen and she was sure that the mercs had left, bringing with her the unconscious Scrat, who, when he had awoken, explained how the man they had called Rankish had come with him and the children into the forest, as planned, and then knocked him over the head. The old hermit hadn't stopped muttering and sobbing since, feeling as if he had failed them all, despite Cremia's assurances that he was not to blame. Indeed, Kafei believed, if anyone had failed it was him. His wife had had to knock him out just to ensure he didn't get them both killed.
Upon seeing Link's broken form, Tatl and Tael had rushed off to the Great Fairy's fountain and had managed to round up some willing healing fairies to come help. They had worked their healing magic, and Link's body was mended several hours later. They had left him in one of the few remaining huts to rest, but when Kafei had gone to check on him, Link had disappeared.
Which brought him to the present.
"I didn't expect to find you here," Kafei admitted, standing behind him. If Link had heard him, he didn't give any indication; he just continued to stare out into the ocean. Kafei cleared his throat uncomfortably and went on. "Just under forty of us managed to escape, and very few were killed. It seems that Ganon's purpose was capture instead of extermination, thankfully. Of the leaders, only you, me, Cremia, and Bacas managed to escape. The only youngsters to get away were Romani, Boomer, and Rocky, but the others who escaped are still capable enough to fight. But they're scared and lost. They want to know what to do next." When Link didn't reply, Kafei frowned and asked, "Well, Link? What do we do…"
"Take them into the forest," Link interrupted, barely above a whisper. "Take whatever supplies are left and hide out in the woods for a couple weeks. With any luck, the mercs will have lost interest in the city after tonight and shortly move on."
Kafei stared at him, stunned. "What are you talking about? What about the attack? If we can free the captives, we can still…"
"Don't you get it, Kafei?" Link replied, his voice still that dejected monotone. "It's over. The 'rebellion' failed. I should have seen it from the beginning. I thought things would be different here. I thought I could change things."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I should never have brought you or your people into this," Link answered. "Every time I've led people against evil, I've failed them. I left my friends alone in an unknown world totally lost. I essentially handed your people over to Ganon by trusting Rankish, or Krishna, or whatever his name is. The war is between me and Ganon alone, and I can't even win that without causing pain. Ganon nearly destroyed three races to get my attention and draw me into a trap. Three hundred people died because I drew the Master Sword, despite the warnings I had received. Countless others have died since then, since Ganon's release. All of it because of me." He finally looked over his shoulder at Kafei, and the older man was shocked at the hollow, dead look the once strong blue eyes now held. It was only momentarily, however, as Link returned his gaze to the waves below him. "So no, Kafei, I won't have any more of your people's blood on my hands. I'll face Ganon alone, as it should have been from the beginning, and with any luck both of us will finally get what we deserve."
Kafei just stood there, stiff as marble, both saddened and enraged. After several minutes of silence, he said, "I once knew a man. A man who was a stranger to this land, lost, confused, hurt and violated by someone from this country. He came to settle things with the person who wronged him, and he did. But he didn't leave once that was over. He saw the pain and the suffering that divided these people he had stumbled across, these complete and total strangers, and instead of leaving he stayed. He stayed to help these people. But he did more than just fix their problems. He taught them to appreciate what they had, and who they had with them. He taught them that just because things don't always go our way there's no reason to break down and give in to the despair and chaos that follows. He taught me about what was really important, taught me to stop running away from my responsibilities and face them like a man, and to recognize that revenge simply for the sake of getting even isn't worth it, not when there are more important things. Things like the love of a woman, the happiness of a city, the promise of life." When he didn't get a response, Kafei turned to leave, but not before saying one final thing. "That man was ten years old. I'd hate to think that he had forgotten who he was."
Link didn't need to turn around to know that Kafei had left him. He supposed he should be glad of that; it's what he had wanted, after all, to be alone. But the older man's words wouldn't leave him alone.
"Who am I?" he wondered. The answer should have been obvious. He was Link, the Hero of Time, the Slayer of Moons, the Gladiator, any of the other names he had gathered over the years. He was a weapon of destruction. A weapon that understood its purpose and hated itself for it. That's who he had always believed himself to be, but now…now he wasn't so sure. If he could just focus for a moment…
"Focus…" What was it that he had told Malon when he had started training her? What was it that Darunia had drilled into him during his own training? "Focus only on your opponent and your surroundings. Everything else is inconsequential. If your focus strays, you will die. You must keep your focus."
"Focus," Link muttered to himself, and almost against his own will he got to his feet, sword in hand. Closing his eyes, he brought the sword up into position and began going through all the motions, all the steps he had perfected over the past eight years. Gradually, his mind blocked out everything else but the sounds and smells of his surroundings, and his opponent: himself.
Ever since his arrival in Termina, he had been without true focus. He believed that he had focused solely on liberating Termina and defeating Ganon, but that had not been true. He had never been able to separate himself from Malon and the others in the Sacred Realm, from Zelda and the Sages in Hyrule, on the truth of his origin. A part of him had always second-guessed his decision to stay in Termina and free its people, and that had been his undoing. Had he been entirely focused on that objective, he would have seen through Krishna's deception. He would not have been so trusting in his luck at having avoided the mercs again and again. He might even have been able to beat Ganon sooner.
But that was in the past. As his motions became faster and more complex, his mind became clearer and clearer. What was done was done. Who and what he was was inconsequential to the task at hand. He would have to answer that question soon, but at the moment it had nothing to do with his opponent and his surroundings. And his surroundings did not just include the environment, but the people around him as well: Tatl and Tael, Kafei and Anju, Boomer and Romani and Cremia and all the others. He could not forget about them. Even if he did manage to storm the city and defeat Ganon on his own, that would not solve their problem. As Kafei had said, just fixing the problem wouldn't be enough; he would have to show them the way and then guide them down it. He would have to be strong.
He would have to focus on that and nothing else.
He finished his motions with his knees bent and the sword pointing behind him, as if about to unleash a spin attack, and he stayed that way for several moments. Then he straightened his back, stared momentarily at his reflection in the sword, then turned and headed back down to camp.
* * *
"Have you gone mad, Kafei?" Bacas thundered. "You want us to attack them tonight? Forty men against three hundred trained mercenaries and Ganon? It's suicide!"
Kafei, Bacas, Scrat, Cremia, Romani, Boomer, and Rocky all stood in what remained of their war room. Most of the ceiling was missing, and the walls were charred, but it still stood. Tatl and Tael floated above Scrat's head.
"If we stay here, or if we go into hiding, eventually we will be found and we will be captured, or worse," Kafei argued back from across the table. "If we follow the plan, we may still be able to get into the city, free the others, and commence with the attack, as planned. You agreed to it before…"
"That was when we stood a chance!"
"Kafei," Cremia softly interjected. "Maybe he's right. Maybe we should lay low, for a little while at least. There's nothing we can do with so few of us."
"She's right boss," Boomer added. "I mean, there's no way we should just give up, but attacking tonight, following a plan that was designed under different circumstances…I mean, I dunno, maybe we should just be patient." Stunned to hear her boyfriend suggest patience, Romani nodded her agreement, as did Rocky.
Kafei stood there, searching for words to convince them as much as himself. "But it will be too late! Once Ganon has Majora's Mask, he won't hesitate to slaughter us all! If we attack now we may still have a chance…"
"Chance?" Bacas interrupted. "Any chance we had went up in smoke last night! We have no hope, Kafei…none!"
"There is always hope."
They all turned towards the entrance, every one of them shocked to see Link standing there. He met each of their gazes, then strode into the room, sword in hand. "As long as one of us stands, there is always hope," he continued. "And running away won't solve the problem, not while others are depending on us. I had forgotten that for a while," he cast a meaningful and thankful look at Kafei, "But a good friend reminded me of it. You say that forty men aren't enough to storm a city. I say it is. The mercs may have experience. They may be ruthless. But there's one thing they don't have, and that will be their undoing."
"And what's that?" Bacas asked skeptically.
Link walked up to the table and drove his sword into it, causing everyone to instinctively jump back. "Freedom," he answered. "And heart. They're fighting under a contract for money. This fight means nothing to them. You are fighting for your homes, for you loved ones, for your very way of life. This fight means everything to you. And that's why we'll win."
"What are you saying?" Tatl asked. "You got a plan or what?"
"I've got a plan," Link confirmed. "Tonight, we'll break into the city, free your people, and take back your homes. The mercs won't stand a chance."
"But what about Ganon, Link?" Romani asked. "If he gets the mask he'll wipe us out. What are we going to do about him?"
"Something I should have done eight years ago," Link replied. In one smooth motion he pulled the sword from the table and thrust it into the sheath on his back. When he looked at them again, his face was statue of determination.
"I'm going to kill him."
