Chapter Nineteen Journey's End

   "How long until we reach the ruins?"

   "Twenty minutes, my lord."

   "How long until sunset?"

   "One hour, my lord."

   Necron smiled beneath his death's head helmet.  "Excellent.  Are the men all prepared?"

   "Yes, my lord," the rat-man replied.  "A dozen air-bikes and three hundred ground troops await your command."

   Necron nodded and pointed for the soldier to return to his place in line.  This was it, he told himself.  The defining moment of his millennia long lifetime was within his reach, and all that stood before him were several children pretending at being heroes.  How hard could taking the Triforce possibly be?

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   "So according to Bazillo, all we have to do is hold back a handful of air-bikes and three times the amount of soldiers we fought when Shumbo attacked for a little less than an hour.  How hard could it be?"

   Zakro stared at Malon incredulously as they walked to the middle of the ruined city where they would meet with the others.  She had pulled back her long red hair into a ponytail in order to keep it from her eyes in the battle to come.  Her armor was buckled into place, the Fairy Sword strapped to her back and the magical Silver Gauntlets on her arms.  Were any of her friends in Hyrule to look at her now, they would have had no idea who she was.

   Zakro's part in the battle required him to be mobile a good deal of the time, so all he wore was his usual sleeveless padded body armor.  Looking at her a little more, he couldn't help but grin.  "You know, that eternal optimism was one of Link's most irritating traits when he was alive.  Hearing you use it has me torn between hugging and strangling you."

   Malon returned the smile.  "Well, if you can hold off for the next hour, I'd appreciate it."

   "No problem."

   They walked on in silence for a little longer, until Malon couldn't take any more of it.  Groaning in frustration, she said, "It isn't right, Zakro!  I should be out there fighting with the rest of you, not just hiding in some corner waiting for the Triforce to appear.  I can help…"

   "Yes, you could help," Zakro told her, struggling to echo Shrike's infinite patience; that seemed to work well in this type of situation.  "But then you would die, then we would die, and then Necron would get the Triforce and make it so everyone in Hyrule died.  Like we've been telling you from the beginning, you're the best suited for this role, just as we're the best for ours.  We're all soldiers Malon; hell, Mattalla fought in the War of Unification.  Numaru is second in command to band of warrior thieves, Shrike is the last of the Sheikah, and to be honest I'm probably the best damn fighter our world has ever known," Malon couldn't help but smile, not quite sure whether the egotistical Zora was joking or not.  Without loosing a beat he went on.  "So if anyone is going to survive through all of this it's us.  Unless you screw up of course, then it really won't matter either way."

   "It still sucks, though.  I mean, I'm the leader!  This is mutiny!"

   Zakro cocked his head to the side, considering the thought.  "Yes, I suppose it is," he admitted.  "Funny how that works."

   She playfully punched him in the shoulder as they entered into the open area where Shrike, Mattalla, Numaru, and Bazillo were waiting.  The Sheikah and the Goron wore no armor, as Shrike didn't believe in it and frankly there was nothing big enough to fit Mattalla, but Numaru wore a chain mail shirt and a tough iron helm she had scrounged up.  Seeing them standing there, and knowing about the dozens of weapons and traps hidden throughout the city, Malon had to admit that they did stand a chance. 

   Standing together for what could possibly the last time, they all struggled for the right words to say.  As always, it was Zakro who broke the silence.  "So, anybody else scared?  Because I am terrified."

   "Yes," Mattalla confessed.

   "And I," Numaru admitted.  Malon and Bazillo merely nodded.

   "No."

   The remaining Chosen looked at their Sheikah compatriot in complete and utter confusion.  One look at his face was all the proof they needed to see that he was being honest.  "I am Sheikah," he started to explain, "And Sheikah are trained to be without fear.  I will not lie to you…though I have no fear of my own safety, there have been several times on this trip alone when I have been fearful for the rest of your lives, as well as those that are depending on us in Hyrule.  But I am not frightened now.  When we left on this journey, Zelda called us the Chosen of Hyrule, that it would be up to us and our courage to see our land through this dark time.  In the castle and in Navi's cave, we learned of Link's destiny, and he fulfilled it in order to save ours.  This is our destiny.  Every day of our lives has led us to this moment.  I know that no matter what may happen my task in this world is complete, and the fact that I spend it here with my friends is a bonus.  Because of this, I do not fear what is to come…I embrace it."

   After a moment of silence, Mattalla spoke up.  "There is something I have been meaning to do for some time now, but for one reason or another I have not found the right time, until now."  He gathered himself up and stood tall, his voice deep and solemn.  "You all know of the Goron custom concerning Sworn-siblings, that it is symbolic of friendship and companionship.  I would like to extend that to all of you, but I do not think it would be appropriate.  Instead, I would ask if you would become my True Brothers and Sisters, as Link was to my brother Darunia.  For our friendship and companionship requires more than just symbolism to do it justice; we are bonded in such a way as the races of Hyrule…" he looked at Bazillo, "…and the Sacred Realm can only dream to obtain, and I hope may someday experience.  From this day forward, we take our places among the legends of our world, remembered not for our triumphs or defeats, but because six stood before an army this day without fear, without hesitation, for the sake of all living things.  Our destinies have led us to this day, my brothers and sisters, and I will tell you this: I would not trade your company for all the riches of the Realms."

   The Chosen stood there speechless, because no further words were needed.  Malon wiped tears from her eyes, Bazillo nodded empathetically, Shrike smiled, Numaru clasped Mattalla's arm, and Zakro turned away, mumbling about something in his eye.  Finally, when she knew they could delay no longer, Malon kissed her fingertips and touched them to the remnant of Link's cap tied to her arm, as the others did the same.  With that, she turned from them and went to her post.

   "You realize," Zakro solemnly said to the others when she was out of earshot, "That even if Malon reaches the Triforce, she'll be the only one of us that has any chance of surviving this fight."

   "Yes," Numaru nodded.

   "Of course," Shrike agreed.

   "Naturally," Mattalla replied.

   "Hmm, of this fact, my fine friendly trout, I do not believe there was ever any doubt," Bazillo added.

   "Good," Zakro sighed in relief.  "Just so we don't harbor any delusions."

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Necron's attack began with thirty-five minutes until sunset.

   Two hundred of his foot soldiers entered into the ruined city, while half of the dozen air-bikes flew overhead.  Upon entering the ruins, the soldiers were only slightly surprised to find that their opponents were nowhere in sight.  By the time they had made it past the first couple blocks they had decided that the Chosen had picked the cowardly way out and opted to hide until the Triforce appeared; all they would have to do would be to surround the middle pyramid and wait until Necron claimed his prize.  They relaxed a bit and began joking among themselves.  Suddenly they heard the distant click of a mechanism being released, and a few seconds later a dozen of them were crushed beneath a huge slab of building.

   The soldiers began to panic, scattering down the streets, only to run into explosions of fire and stone as flames and debris shot up from the sewer gratings along the road.  More debris fell from the sky a minute later, and the air-bikes began moving in search of its source.  They too were stopped however, as a dozen arrows flew through the air simultaneously, striking one of the bikes and causing it to explode, even as bolts of magic caused the others to swerve out of the way.  Back on the ground the chaos continued, as soldiers seemingly disappeared into the shadows of the ruined buildings.

   Necron took all of this in from atop his air-bike at the edge of the city, his armor rattling as he shook with rage.  "They…will all…die…"

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Mattalla hastily pulled the catapult back into position and hefted another slab into the cradle.  It took all of his considerable Goron strength to complete the task, but he refused to give in now.  The battle had been going on for ten minutes, and thanks to the combination of Mattala's rocks, Numaru's arrows, and Bazillo's magic, their aerial opponents were being kept away from the central pyramid, where Mattalla happened to be positioned.  As for the ground forces, Zakro was swimming through the underground sewers setting off Shrike's special explosives, even as the Sheikah himself crept through the shadows, eliminating anything that came along his path.  And Malon, Mattalla was surprised to note, was following her orders and staying out of sight.  So far, everything was going according to plan.  "Such as it is," Mattalla mused.

   "Mattalla!" Zakro's voice called.  The Goron spared a moment to look down at the grate beneath him.

   "Yes, Zakro?"

   "Everything all right over here?"

   "Yes," Mattalla grunted as he released the catapult.  "No sign of the enemy.  Your end?"

   "Going good.  Shrike's still alive, as far as I know, and Numaru and Bazillo are still firing.  Necron's men have started bombarding the area from the sky and are pressing forward, so you'll have to change the range on the catapult. "

   "Very well.  How are you for bombs?"

   Zakro frowned.  "I'm almost out.  I'll be coming up top soon.  Want me to fall back here and help you out?"

   Mattalla considered this for a moment as he reloaded the weapon.  "No, go check on Malon, then help Shrike, if you can."

   "Got it."  Mattalla didn't need to look to know that his friend was gone.  Instead he went back to his catapult, the countdown continuing in his head.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   As soon as the remaining air-bikes started leveling everything in the square, Shrike knew that his time was up and he would have to start falling back.  He dashed through the alleys between buildings, staying invisible in the shadows as only a Sheikah can.  He whistled sharply as he passed the building where Numaru was stationed on the roof, and received another whistle in response, as Numaru also began to fall back.  Shrike looked up to see her fire the hookshot she had found into the side of another building and pull herself over to its roof.  Without looking, Shrike knew that Bazillo was doing the same.  He had not seen Malon yet, and for that he thanked the goddesses.  Their leader was following the plan.  Now it was up to Shrike and the others to keep Necron busy for another twenty minutes.

   Shrike rounded a corner expecting to find an open square, but instead he charged straight into half a dozen rat-men.  Both parties stopped in surprise, but it was Shrike who recovered first.  Pulling a dagger from his belt he hurled it into the throat of the closest enemy.  He then withdrew both his swords and dove into the remaining warriors.  He managed to strike down another before the others began to attack, and Shrike was put on the defensive.  Two of the rat-men came at him, and he used his left blade to block a strike to his head and his right to block one to his stomach.  Batting the swords aside he performed three quick backward handsprings to gain some room.  He tossed one of his smoke pellets into the midst of his opponents, causing them to cry out in frustration.  Two of them managed to keep their heads, however, and ran towards him, swords at ready.  Shrike turned and ran towards a solid wall, a dead end, and the rat-men began to smell victory.  But instead of stopping with his back to the wall, the Sheikah took two steps up the side and flipped backwards over their heads.  As soon as he landed he slashed at their open backs, dropping them to the ground.

   He turned back to face the remaining two warriors, waiting for them to step out of the smoke.  Instead, he watched as they crumpled to the ground with Zakro calmly stepping out of the smoke, casually dusting off his hands.  "Hello Zakro," the Sheikah said.  "Having fun yet?"

   "This much fun should be illegal," Zakro grinned.  "How are we doing?"

   Shrike quickly counted in his head.  "A hundred and fifty enemies left in the city, another hundred on the outskirts, and seventeen minutes to go."

   "Lovely.  I was just on my way to check on Malon, make sure she was sitting tight."

   Shrike shrugged his shoulders.  "I haven't seen or heard anything, so I'm assuming…" He stopped as he heard the whine of an air-bike lifting off.  Eyes widening in horror, he exchanged a terrified glance with Zakro.  Both warriors looked in the direction of the northern pyramid, and watched as an air-bike rose in the air.

   Zakro groaned.  "So, you want to take this, or should I?"  But when he turned to look, Shrike was already gone.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Numaru dashed across the roof and pulled the trigger of the mechanism she had devised, releasing a stream of arrows down into the streets.  The weapon was essentially a row of armed crossbows with twine tied to each trigger with the ends twisted into one thin rope.  When properly positioned, they would fire as one into the enemy ranks.  It could only be used once, but Numaru was so deadly efficient that once was all she needed.  A dozen arrows sank into a dozen bodies, and Numaru watched Bazillo fire more bolts of magic into the crowd from his position across the street.

   Picking up the bow she had left on the roof of the building, she fitted an arrow from the quiver on her back and fired it up towards one of the air bikes.  Her aim was true, and the shaft struck the rider to the ground, even as his bike crashed into his fellows down below.  Four bikes remained airborne, and from the head count below, she saw a little more than a hundred ground troops scattering to and fro, gradually making their way towards Mattalla and the central pyramid.  Had this been all of Necron's forces she would have been ecstatic, but she knew that another hundred remained outside the city, along with another half dozen air bikes, Necron included.  If they were to rush the city, she and the other Chosen would be doomed, and Malon's job would be that much harder.

   As if giving voice to her thoughts, she looked over her shoulder to see the remaining air bikes streaking towards her, a hulking figure in black armor at their head.  Cursing, she searched the ground for Shrike, hoping to warn him, but instead she was forced to roll out of the way as one of the air bikes shot it's blue energy bolts on her roof.  Rolling onto one knee she brought the bow up to fire, and too late she became aware that he was merely a diversion.  Turning, she saw another bike flying directly at her, the rider holding a lance in his hand and preparing to drive it through her.  He would have succeeded, if his vehicle had not exploded in a hail of magical fire.  Numaru had just enough time to dive out of the wreckage's path.  Looking up, she saw as Malon turned her bike in the air and went after the next closest bike.

   Feeling an odd mixture of anger and thanks, Numaru withdrew her hookshot and fired it at the next building down, where she would find the last of her weapons and a ladder that would lead her to the ground.  She didn't even look to see the arrows hit, as she slid down the ladder and ran to regroup with Mattalla.

   Thirteen minutes remained.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Malon knew that she was endangering the plan, knew that she was hopelessly outmatched and outgunned and knew that her friends would be furious with her, but in all honesty she didn't care.  Even with Hyrule's fate as the stakes, she couldn't sit in hiding while her friends fought and died so that she might have the time to complete the mission.  "Daddy didn't raise no cowards," she told herself grimly, "But he sure raised one hell of a fool."  But then she remembered Shrike's words, that her entire life would be defined by what she did in this battle, and that now was the time for her talents to contribute something to the Chosen.  She wasn't strong or strategically intelligent, and she was only an average warrior, but in all of Hyrule and the Sacred Realm there wasn't an animal or machine created that Malon Lon could not ride, and ride with style.

   The air was filled with the enemy's blasts, but none of them even came close to connecting with her, so expertly did she maneuver her vehicle.  And while she wasn't as good a marksman as her opponents, she had already managed to fell two of the bikes and was working on a third.  Her foe was on her tail, and she juked in all directions, avoiding his shots.  He too was a good flier, and she hadn't yet been able to lose him.  A grim smile spread across her lips.  That was about to change.

   Pulling back on the throttle, she sped forward and up, gaining altitude.  As expected her trailer followed, still firing.  Suddenly, Malon pulled her bike into a jaw-clenching dive and sped directly towards the ground, pouring on the speed.  Again her opponent followed, not about to be outdone by her.  She knew that he hoped to stay close enough to her so that she wouldn't have anywhere to go but down and straight into the earth.  With any other rider he would have succeeded, but ever since she had first sat on an air-bike Malon had studied it's capabilities and limits just as she would with a horse, judging and evaluating what it could and couldn't do in a given situation.  Calling upon this knowledge she waited until the last possible moment before rolling her bike in a sharp somersault.  She was so close to the ground that her ponytail brushed the cobblestone streets as the sky and ground momentarily switched places.  Her opponent wasn't so lucky, however, and she had the satisfaction of hearing his vehicle explode as it crashed.

   Rising back into the air she didn't even miss a beat and moved onto the next target, even as she saw Necron and the remaining bikes flying towards her.  "This is a problem," she told herself, then instantly banished the thought.  She only needed to last ten minutes more.  In her state of mind, it might as well have been ten seconds.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Like the others, Mattalla had also seen Malon join the fray, and after roaring every curse known in the Goron language he hurried to reload the catapult and continue his assault.  He knew he wouldn't have much time; already he heard the sounds of Necron's men approaching the position.  He had the cradle down and was just about to load his last missile when he saw Shrike come charging out from between two buildings, Zakro on his heels.

   "Mattalla!" Shrike yelled.  "Move the catapult!  Aim it at Malon!"

   Momentarily shocked, Mattalla looked up at the battle above them, and watched as three air-bikes did their best to strike Malon's vehicle.  Necron floated around the peripheral, waiting for something.  Still confused, Mattalla dropped his boulder and threw his considerable bulk into the catapult, turning it into position as Shrike and Zakro came to his aid.

   "What are you thinking?" Zakro demanded of Shrike equally confused.  "If we fire up there we might hit Malon!"  They got the weapon into position, and Zakro's question was answered a moment later as Shrike himself leapt into the cradle.  "You're insane…" the Zora king breathed.

   Ignoring him, Shrike steadied himself in the cradle.  "On my signal let me go," he ordered Mattalla.  "I need to time this right."

   Though just as shocked as Zakro, Mattalla nodded and wrapped his hands on the release.  "Whatever luck you live by Shrike, let's hope it lasts a moment longer."

   "NOW!" Shrike yelled, and Mattalla pulled back on the switch.  He and Zakro watched as the catapult's arm shot up firing Shrike directly into the midst of the aerial battle.  They didn't have time to see if he had succeeded, however, as the both saw Numaru come running towards them.

   "Fifty left!" she told them, drawing her scimitar.  Knowing exactly what she meant, Mattalla pulled his battle hammer from his back, and Zakro extended his deadly arm fins.  A moment later fifty Hylians and Rat-men charged out into the square directly at them.  The three didn't even hesitate as the tide flooded over them.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Though she didn't regret her decision to join the battle, Malon was beginning to think that she could have planned it a little better.

   Things had been going good until the remaining air-bikes had appeared, and now it was all Malon could do to keep from being shot out of the sky.  Three bikes remained, but she feared that they would be more than enough, given her distraction; All the while she was forced to keep one eye on Necron, watching as he waited on the edge of the battle, not doing anything.  He was planning something, and whatever it was, Malon was sure she wouldn't like it.

   Momentarily distracted, Malon faced forward again, only to see a bike on a direct collision course towards her.  She tried to veer to the side but was stopped short as the other two bikes flanked her, 'escorting' her towards her doom.  The rider ahead of her didn't fire, waiting for the last possible moment to arrogantly let her know that there was no way out.

   She was about to fire her own weapon in a last ditch attack, but it wasn't required, as Shrike flew out of nowhere and collided with the rider ahead of her.  While the rider hadn't been knocked from his seat, he was stunned enough to allow Shrike to reach over him and yank the handlebar to the side.  Malon saw what he was doing and leaned her bike to the left, colliding with the rider on that side.  The sudden impact knocked him off and sent him tumbling to the ground.  She kept to side, even as Shrike drove his own vehicle into the remaining enemy.  He leapt off just in time, as the two bikes collided, exploding in mid-air.  This only prolonged the inevitable however, as Shrike plummeted to his death.

   Or would have, if Malon had not grabbed hold of his wrist.

   Hauling him up into the seat behind her, Malon steered to face Necron, only to see him fire a red blast from his gauntlet directly into the darkened sky.  "Darkened sky…" It was then that Malon realized what was happening.  Turning to the west, she watched as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.

   For a moment it seemed as if the entire world were standing still, then a light blinked into existence on top of the huge central pyramid.  The light steadily grew brighter and more intense, until the entire city was basked in its glow, as if the sun had settled upon the earth itself.  Despite the glare, Malon could amazingly see everything in the illuminating glow, and in the spot where the light had started floated the three golden triangles, the object of their quest.  The Triforce.

   "GO MALON!" Shrike was yelling from behind her.  "GO GO GO!"

   And the race was on.

   Malon and Shrike streaked towards the relic, Necron following close behind, pushing his own bike to the limit.  He fired wildly, hoping to hit them with something, and he succeeded.  The back of Malon and Shrike's bike caught flame, and Malon had to struggle to keep it under control, even as she lost altitude.

   "No matter what happens, keep going!" she heard Shrike tell her, and a moment later she felt it as his weight left the bike.  Turning her head, she watched as he leapt in the air, sword drawn and prepared to cleave Necron in half.  The dark general managed to block the blow with a gauntleted fist, however, as he and Shrike collided and began struggling for control of the bike.  Forcing herself to look away, Malon continued to struggle with the bike.

   In its current condition, the bike was no longer to gain altitude, making it impossible to fly directly to the Triforce.  She was forced to land the bike halfway up the ziggurat, and as soon as her feet hit the ground she began sprinting up the many stairs.  She didn't afford the time to check on Shrike, her sole concern being to reach the top.  Because of this, Necron's crashing bike would have destroyed her had she not heard Shrike's call of warning.  Turning around, she barely had the time to dive out of the way as the bike crashed into the side of the building, two bodies flying off of it.  Malon did not see where Shrike had landed, but she did she Necron, and he was already on his feet, sword drawn and approaching her, eyes flaming red behind his mask.

   Malon had just enough time to draw the Fairy Sword and block his downward stroke, and had she not been wearing the Silver Gauntlets, that too would have been useless.  Crumpling to her knees, she rolled down several steps as Necron stabbed into the ground.  By the time she scrambled to her feet, Necron was waiting for her, about swing his sword and cut her half.  But once again, Shrike came to her rescue, tackling Necron from the side and driving him down.  "Go!" he ordered her, even as Necron's fist struck him in the jaw.  For a moment, Malon struggled with what to do, then, dropping her sword, she resumed running up the stairs.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Shrike fell to his knees as Necron hit him in the stomach, gasping for breath.  He was stopped short by an armored boot to his face, and he fell back down several steps, his nose broken.  Shrike was one of the best fighters—if not the best, following Link's death—in Hyrule, yet every blow he managed to land on Necron was nullified by the armor.  As such, Shrike had resigned himself to merely buying Malon enough time to reach the Triforce.  However, as he struggled to his feet and ran after Necron as he himself scaled the steps, every blow Necron had landed on him was multiplied by not only the dark general's magic, but also by his armor.  After only two minutes Shrike was bloodied and bruised, and every move hurt.  Despite all this he managed to grab onto Necron's cape and pull, hoping to topple the bigger man.

   It didn't work, and Necron whipped his elbow around and drove it into Shrike's face.  "Will you never die?" Necron roared in frustration as he turned and started running.  Before he made it two steps, however, he tripped to the ground.  Turning, he saw Shrike pulling back on a thin cord he had taken from his belt and hooked through his cape.  Bellowing with rage, red beams flew from Necron's eyes and slammed Shrike in the chest.  The Sheikah would have tumbled all the way down to the bottom of the ziggurat had he not found the strength to hold onto the rope.  Necron charged Shrike and attempted to grab him by the throat, but the Sheikah was still too quick.  Dodging out of the way, Shrike jumped on Necron's back, clawing at the eyeholes to his faceplate.  Necron threw his head back and butted Shrike's already broken nose, and he was forced to release his hold due to the pain.  He drove his boot into the ground, hoping to send it through Shrike's chest, but Shrike dodged it, taking the blow on his left arm, shattering the bone.  He rolled to the side and got to his feet, and Sheikah and Warlock faced each other.  Blood pouring from any number of wounds, left arm hanging useless at his side, he still exuded confidence and defiance.  His mask had been torn from his face, so Necron was able to see the grim smile on his lips.  Lifting his good hand, Shrike beckoned Necron forward.

   Necron obliged and with unbelievable speed he had Shrike by the throat with one hand.  He drew Shrike close enough so that their noses were almost touching.  "You know," he hissed.  "Shumbo was afraid that you and the Hero of Time were the ones meant to destroy me.  But he is gone…and now so are you."  With that he cocked his free wrist, releasing a dagger hidden in his gauntlet and drove it into Shrike's stomach.  With a small gasp, Shrike crumpled to the ground, blade in his stomach, as Necron released him.  Grinning victoriously beneath his mask, Necron gloated, "Farewell, last of the Sheikah," and turned and sprinted back up after Malon.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Zakro drove the tip of his arms into the final Rat-man and straightened his back, hearing several of the joints pop.  Looking around he saw Mattalla and Numaru both still standing though both were worst for wear.  The three of them were the only ones left standing on the battlefield; where Bazillo was, no one knew.

   "And that," Numaru said as she nonchalantly brushed off her hands, even though one of her eyes was swollen shut, "Is that."

   "Yes," Mattalla agreed, looking up at Malon's small figure as it ran up the pyramid.  "We have completed our mission."

   "Was there ever any doubt?" Zakro said.  "So what should we do with them?"  He looked over towards the entrance to square, his back to the pyramid.  Less than a hundred yards in front of them stood the remaining hundred of Necron's army, armed and waiting.  Neither side moved.

   "The only we thing we can do," Mattalla replied, his voice steady and determined.  No other words were needed between them.  As one they looked back up at the pyramid.  Malon had stopped moving, and though they could not see her face, they knew she was looking at them.  Raising hammer, sword, and fins, they offered one last salute.  And then the Chosen faced their destinies the only they knew how.

   With a challenging cry, the Chosen charged.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   "NO!" Malon screamed as she watched her friends charge to their deaths.  She wanted to sprint down the stairs and join them in their last stand.  A vision of the statue they had found in the castle upon their arrival came to her mind, of the heroic visage it had represented.  That was nothing compared to the courage she saw before her now.  But she knew their sacrifice would be in vain if she didn't reach the Triforce, so she forced herself to turn away and continue her ascension.

   She was no more than twenty meters from the top now, and the glow of the holy relic was intensifying.  She spared one glance over her shoulder, and nearly panicked when she saw Necron closing in on her, now only a dozen meters behind her and gaining fast.  Her legs felt as if they would give out from the strain, but she forced herself to go on.  She was so close…

   Finally she reached the top of the pyramid and saw the Triforce in all its splendor.  She had always had the impression that doing so would fill her with a deep, serene calmness, but instead all she felt was…it.  She felt neither good nor evil just an all-encompassing sense of being, of rightness.  It was maybe a meter tall and a meter wide, and it shone with a golden luster.  Floating a foot of the ground, it was now only meters away from her.  She would finally be able to end it.

   She was ten meters away when the hand grabbed her shoulder.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Necron's army stood stunned as they watched the three lone figures charge towards them, weapons at ready, their defiant yells of challenge echoing through the air.  Even when one of the soldiers had the wits to order a volley of arrows, the Chosen didn't so much as blink as dozens of shafts flew around them.  They knew they would die, just as the army did, but that did not deter them.

   Mattalla, Numaru, and Zakro crashed into their ranks just as another blinding flash of light momentarily blinded them.  When they could see, they saw a dozen masked figures rushing to their aid, catching Necron's forces off guard.  At their head and coming towards the Chosen was a tall, imposing woman, with a familiar shape cradled in one arm.

   "Bazillo!" Mattalla cried as he leveled a Rat-man with a blow from his hammer.  "What happened?  Who are these people?"

   Clearly exhausted, the little imp did not answer.  Instead, the woman said, "I am Ashta of the Sheikah, and we have come to aid you in your fight…" 

   "Sheikah," Zakro spat.  "I thought you were all too high-and-mighty to help us out!"

   "Not all of his agreed with Konai's decision," Ashta told him.  "Bazillo came to me and managed to teleport my warriors and I here to your side, though the effort has exhausted him."

   "While the help is appreciated," Numaru yelled as she too struck down a foe, "I am afraid all you have done is given us more company in our journey to the next world."

   Ashta smiled grimly.  "Naturally.  What greater honor could there be?"

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Victory was so close Necron could practically taste it.  The Sheikah was dead, as were the Chosen, and all that stood between him and the Triforce's power was one insignificant little girl.  Already he was forming plans to overthrow Ganon and claim Hyrule as his own.

   But even as Necron clasped Malon's shoulder to pull her out of his way, he felt another weight on his back, and then a sharp pain in his throat as he felt a blade slip into the crack between his helmet and breastplate.  Choking in surprise, he fell to his knees, grabbing his neck even as the blood flowed from his sliced throat.  Turning around, he saw Shrike kneeling before him, blood flowing freely from his stomach.  In his good hand was the same dagger Necron had stabbed him with.

   "H…ho…how…" Necron rasped, choking on his own blood.

   "Link…never left us," Shrike replied, using the last of his strength in explanation.  "His spirit…always with us…guiding us…and me.  But if physical proof…of his being here is needed…" Shrike's pointed weakly at the strip of Link's hat tied to his arm.

   In his last living moments Necron took a moment to marvel at the irony, then collapsed to the ground, his millennium spanning life finally at an end.

   Shrike watched Malon through blurred vision, watched as she leapt the last few feet to touch the Triforce.  "And with this…" he thought, even as he fell to the ground, "My destiny is complete."

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   "Greetings, Malon Lon, avatar of the Fourth."

   Malon's attention instantly snapped back into reality.  The last thing she remembered was momentarily feeling something on her shoulder, and then her reaching out to touch the Triforce.  Looking around, she saw that she was still on top of the pyramid, until she saw Necron lying dead on the ground, and Shrike hovering inches from the ground, as if stopped in his fall.  She ran to his side and tried to grab hold of him, but her hands passed through his body as if they were vapor.

   Horrified, she took a few steps back, and bumped into something that felt remarkably like a living body.  Turning around, she saw before her a tall, terribly beautiful woman, wearing a bright green dress that seemed to float around her as if moving to its own private breeze.  The dress was matched by the woman's hair.  Even as she smiled kindly down at Malon, the farm girl realized who she was.

   "Farore…" she gasped, and instantly fell to one knee.

   The Goddess of Courage laughed, a musical sound, and gently took Malon by her shoulders, raising her to her feet.  "You have no reason to kneel before me, Malon.  Nor anyone else, for that matter."

   Malon was completely shocked.  She had absolutely no idea what was going on, and seeing this in her eyes, Farore explained.  "By now I'm sure you realized that you have completed your mission and found the Triforce.  And I must say that I am extremely proud of you, and the rest of the Chosen.  Link was right when he brought you with him to this realm.  And yes, time is frozen in the instant that you touched the Triforce.  It makes things easier."

   "Easier…what…why are you here?" Malon stammered, not meaning to sound rude.

   Still smiling, Farore told her, "I am here because it is fitting that I do so.  It was not power, or wisdom, that brought you and the others this far.  It was courage.  And that's sort of my thing.  So I thought it would only be fair that I represented my sisters while they tend to other matters.  So here I am.  Go ahead."

   "Go ahead with what?" Malon breathed.

   "The reason you came here in the first place."  Farore lifted her legs until she was sitting in the air as if a stool were beneath her.  "Make a wish, Malon Lon.  Your world depends on it."