He ran to the base of the Tower, through the Field of Glory. He'd heard rumours of what he'd see - the walking dead, faces in every flower, laughing, crying, teasing - but now that he was here, with the Triforce's pitiful cry (a despairing cry; all the tears of the world), still echoing into nothing someplace deep within him - now, he chose to close his eyes and run. He wouldn't feel safe until he was in the Tower. He was coming at it blind, but he would not fall. Not now.
Despite his resolve, an eerie creaking noise made his eyes fly open. Not fifty yards away, the doors at the base of the Tower parted, slow as kissing lips. Link felt a pull, sudden and irresistible - his feet left the ground for a moment, and in that instant the distance between him and his goal had halved. He landed with a gasp. The doors parted further and Link grit his teeth. He could almost hear the Tower's indrawn breath. His feet left the ground again before they touched the first pearly flagstones, and the door slammed hard behind him.
Grimghest, who had watched the man fly off his feet into the waiting mouth at the base of the Tower while he stamped his own, ran away. The rest of his long life was largely good.
Link feared he'd be squashed against the stones on the wall opposite the door - or perhaps speared on some sinister arrangement of sharp things.
But as the door closed behind him, he floated gently down and stood in a pool of light. He squinted. It shone down bright as the sun at noon, but devilishly focussed in around him. He couldn't see anything other than the dust-motes drifting in and out of the beam.
Hands to daggers, he took a step forward.
The light followed. He rolled to the right, and the beam never missed a move.
Link stood and shook his head. Then he closed his eyes.
It took a moment as his ears adjusted to being bumped up in rank - in the growing noise he heard his heart. It's beat was steady - no regrets, here, no fear. He had mourned the dead; it would only shame them if he didn't finish.
He reached into his satchel and pulled out an old, pock-marked boomerang.
He flicked his wrist hard - the scrapes on it's surface made the boomerang sing as it plinked off the walls of the room at the Tower's base. He followed it's progress with little nods of his head, eyes firmly shut. He raised his hand and the boomerang sailed back.
A deep breath.
Link jumped, kicked off the wall to his right, grabbed a hanging sheaf of tapestry, ran across the closed door and landed on the stairs. He opened his eyes cautiously, but the light had left him. Out of it's glare he could see much clearer - the room at the base of the tower was filled with dusty relics - high-backed chairs hulking around like trolls, rolls of carpet, a suit of armour, and (as he peered over the wooden banister) a reception desk. Behind it were rows of tiny shelves, numbered in sequence ending at 99 in the bottom right-hand corner. Some of the holes dangled key chains like dry tongues - a few wagged at him as he watched.
He would need no key.
It was not arrogance, but fact. The Triforce told him so.
The Triforce said without saying - he heard no voice, but felt a sudden, glowing assertion - I won't need a key. It's just a glammer.
No sooner had he finished his thought and the ground shook violently. His hand shot out and clutched the railing. The light flickered. In the rumble, he distinctly heard the sound of a dozen keys dropping to the stone floor.
It didn't last long. A few seconds, maybe, long enough for Link to wonder if the whole thing was going to come crashing down. The Triforce is restless. It wants out. It struggles.
I come, he thought, running up the stairs. He was in complete darkness as the wide staircase curled up towards the second floor.
This next floor was lit an eerie, icy blue from the moonlight shining through the many widows and bounced of the ghostly stone. It was much larger that the reception area, it's floor spanning nearly the entire diameter of the Tower - a hundred yards or more.
As he left the stairs, he felt a swoosh of air behind him, and heard a loud thud. He spun, expecting anything, but all he saw was stone - the way back was blocked.
It didn't matter. He wasn't turning back.
He noticed stairs on the far wall. Their flat tops caught the moonlight and made it seem they were floating in shadow. He spun on his heels as he traced their path, up and up, each swoop smaller that the last, shorter - doors broke through the gleaming wall at regular intervals the whole way, alternating with the windows.
He started across the room and abruptly stopped. The Triforce pulsed inside him. It is not that easy.
As if on cue, there came a growling from shadow of the stairs.
Link held his daggers out, spun them a few times around his swift hands and crouched.
"Come!" he cried.
The beast that stepped into the reflected moonlight grinned at him, revealing a mouth the size of a wheelbarrow and dripping tusks nearly as long as Link's arm. It's gleaming snout let out a puff of steam; beady, sinister red eyes peered out from beneath a sloping brow. Curled horns, like those of the goats once thick on Death Mountain, jutted out at odd angles on either side of it's head. Red tufts of bristly hair dotted its massive chin. The thing's head nearly reached the third door along the staircase when it reared back - when it settled on it's knuckles and stepped forward, Link heard the distinct click-clicking of hooves.
"No," breathed Link. "You're dead."
Ganon let out a hearty laugh - Link could smell dead things. His voice echoed like thunder.
"There have been many Ganondorfs, boy. But I, like you, am unique." He then let out a roar that sent ice into all the darkest corners of Link's being. His hands flew up to his ears just as the ground again began to tremble.
Ganon struck out a massive arm against the staircase; it was all Link could do to stay on his feet.
"Quiet!" he roared. "Toy of the bitch-gods! HE'LL NOT HAVE YOU!"
At the Triforce's response, which sifted dust and grit down from the top of the tower and sent a lighting-bolt crack down the far wall, Link lost his footing, and fell with his daggers out - they hit to floor and scattered away into darkness.
He looked up and saw fear on Ganon's face as the monster gazed towards the top of the tower - he knew then he would succeed. Knives or no. The Tower was his.
Tower had calmed again, but echoes of the Triforce's rage sent tremors though the stone. Link ran at the creature. Ganon looked surprised, but only for a second - he turned and stretched out his arms, as if he intended to catch Link in a crushing embrace.
At the last moment Link turned to the left, grabbed Ganon's forearm and swung himself onto the beast's shoulders. He grabbed hold of one of Ganon's misshapen horns and swooped down to face him. I gave him great satisfaction to see those piggy eyes crossed in pain as he feet kicked him sharply in the chest.
Before Ganon had a chance to grab him, or shake him off like dog does water, Link darted out a hand and took Ganon's left eye.
He jumped away and felt a claw from Ganon's swinging hand catch his shirt - the fabric ripped and the near-blow sent Link off his course. He landed roughly on his left arm, snapping it. The wounded beast squealed and bellowed, one hand to his face and the other reaching out, his good eye momentarily blinded in fury.
Link rolled into a crouch - he felt the bones in his broken arm crush, but no pain. Not too far to his right one of his daggers gleamed in the moonlight.
Ganon finally saw him and came crashing forward like a mountain slide. Blood coursed through his fingers and his mouth let out a wail that nearly froze Link to the spot.
He rolled again, grabbed the dagger with his good hand, and let it fly.
The sickly popping sound that followed told him he'd hit the mark - that, and Ganon let out a howl of both rage and defeat, a sound so sour and vicious that Link clutched first his ears then his stomach - he retched and let out a stream of green and black bile onto the floor.
When Ganon felt to his knees, the floor shook. But nothing from the Triforce. It was silent in its gloating, and Link was grateful.
Ganon tantrumed like a child, pounding his fists on the floor and kicking out his pitiful hooves, striking sparks off the wall. He gnashed his teeth. Flecks of foam flew out of his maw with each agonized cry.
Link approached the fallen creature with his blade proceeding him.
"Quiet," he said, and was faintly surprised when Ganon quit his bellowing. He drew breath in gasps and blew out the foul smells of all that rots and moulders, all that poisons and pillages. Link had no satisfaction in his smile, but smile he did.
The beast raised it's head. Empty, oozing sockets pulsed with each breath.
"I am ever-lasting," growled Ganon. "There are other worlds than these."
Link dropped to his knees beside Ganon's great, smelly head and put his knife against the monster's throat.
"Then go to them if they'll have you, villain."
On the last word he slit Ganon's throat.
No spear to stick you on, he thought as he worked like butcher on a tough cut of meat. You're blind head will stare into nothing until it is dust.
There are other worlds than these. Yes. Other worlds. Other selves. They are just echoes - echoes of us. And you can not escape your singularity, Ganon. No more than I. So quit this living with the knowledge that it is now, finally, done.
The Triforce told him this was true.
Link went to the stairs and began climbing.