Chapter 8: Sworn Brothers
Disclaimer: Okay, look. It's just going to be faster for me to let you know once I DO own Zelda, so until that announcement comes, assume that I don't. Capiche?
Link stood before the entranceway to the Goron City, his fingers drumming aimlessly on the hilt of the sword he had carried since Kakariko Village, four years ago. He had been in Ganondorf's service for six years now, and today he would drive the final obstacle in his father's way from Hyrule.
Behind him his command waited silently, save for the rattling of stalfos bones whenever one of the undead moved. As disgusting as they were, Link was glad to have them with him tonight. Stalfos were the backbone of the king's army, despite the fact that they had to remain hidden in the daylight hours. Link groaned to himself at the unintentional pun. In any case, the stalfos were why Ganondorf had blackened the skies over the castle and Hyrule Market: so that they could move about uninhibited by sunlight, the better to defend their master.
The battle before them would not be an easy one. Though normally complacent and slow to take to violence, once the gorons were angered they stayed angry and became a force to be reckoned with.
And the past six years of warfare had most definitely angered them.
The two sentries they had encountered on the Death Mountain Trail had been testament to that ferocity. The first had immediately attacked them; the second had rolled off at breakneck speed to the city to raise the alarm. The first goron had lay into them with his —or maybe her, Link had never been able to tell— powerful fists, smashing the bones of a nearby stalfos with ease, the goron's rocky back turning aside blades with ease.
Leaving his force to deal with the first sentry, Link turned his attention to the second. Confident as he was that his force could annihilate the gorons in battle, it would be much easier to simply kill them in their sleep. Knocking an arrow, he took careful aim, and whispering a few chosen words, released it. A streak of blue ice shards trailing behind it like a comet, the ice arrow struck the ground before the goron, freezing it instantly and causing the rolling goron to skid out of control. Uncurling, the goron leapt to its feet, snarling ferally. Not many people saw an angry, a truly angry goron, and even fewer had lived to say anything about it. Drawing his sword, Link fell upon the rocky creature, slashing at its soft belly.
Blocking the blade with a rocky forearm, the goron roared out loud, taking a powerful swing at Link, which would have left him lying several feet away with a concussion had he not jumped back. Then, lunging forward, Link slashed at the goron's belly once more, this time striking his target, causing the goron to cry out in pain and collapse, clutching its profusely bleeding gut. As he wiped the blood from his blade his forces approached him, having finished with the first sentry.
Now all there was to do was to wait. The pose he had sent through the Dark Woods should be opening the door anytime now. As he waited, his mind wandered to his last visit to the Goron City. Back when he had come as Zelda's message boy, as her plaything, to retrieve the spiritual stone in their possession. Instantly, he pushed the memories from his mind, focusing on the here and now, just as his father had taught him.
They had been waiting nearly two hours when Link decided the poes weren't coming. Swearing under his breath for the incompetence of the spirits, he quickly racked his mind for a way to get inside the Goron City. He could send more troops through the Dark Woods, or even go himself, but no. That would take far too long, as dawn would come before the doors were opened, and the stalfos would need to hide from the sun. Again his thoughts wandered to the time he had spent here as a child, and suddenly the answer came to him. Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out a small blue ocarina. That bitch's arrogance will be her allies' death yet, he thought.
The melody came to him quickly, and the door slowly opened before them in response to the song of the previous Hyrule Royal Family. Before it had opened halfway, Link's monstrosities rushed past them silently. They were well trained.
Ending the song abruptly, he followed his forces inside, stepping over the slain bodies of two gorons, presumably the keepers of the entrance. Casting his gaze about the cavernous chamber, it quickly became obvious that the gorons had fled the city. Angrily kicking the nearest corpse, he again swore under his breath. As he did he noticed a track in the ground where a third goron had escaped, no doubt to warn the others, wherever they were.
Still determined to find the gorons, Link ordered his forces to remain at the entrance and walked off into the city himself. Wherever he looked, however, he came up empty handed. Angrily punching the wall, he cursed once more. His father had warned him that this might happen. If the gorons were not in the city, they must be holed up in the Fire Temple. Link would have to leave his stalfos behind. The intense heat within Death Mountain would melt their bones into puddles of marrow in minutes. If not for the blood red tunic his father had presented him with before his forces had set out, even he would be unable to withstand more than a minute or two within the volcano.
He would have to take the dinofols. Link sighed, surrendering to the circumstances.
At least they aren't as bad as they were as lizalfos, he thought. Their accents don't come through quite so thick, and their Hylian is considerably better.
Calling to the dinofols, he moved to Darunia's throne room, and gripping the statue within, he dragged it back allowing a blast of hot air to flood the chamber. The dinofols, just entering the room seemed to drink in the hot air, becoming more energetic. Eyeing them with mild disgust, Link entered the cone of Death Mountain.
To say that the heat was oppressive would be a disgusting understatement. Before the cooling property of his tunic kicked in Link felt as if his face was melting, there was so much sweat pouring off it. Even then, he felt immediately weary and fatigued. He wished he could go to sleep. The heat seemed to have the exact opposite effect on the dinofols, though, which only became even more excited and energetic. They soon began to squeal with delight until Link told them to shut up in a sleepy, yet commanding and irritated voice. Shaking his head, trying to clear it of the sudden waves of weariness, he muttered silent curses under his breath, displeased, to say the least, with the current arrangements. The gorons had the home field advantage and undoubtedly outnumbered his own force, which now numbered a mere thirty-one, including himself. Like stalfos, dinofols always fought in pairs, so he was effectively working with only sixteen separate units, assuming he went alone. And dinofols weren't exactly the brightest candles in the chandelier.
Dammit, I'd probably be better off going in alone.
"Let's go."
The entrance to the Fire Temple was a perfect defense. A square stone chute descending deep into Death Mountain with only a single ladder down. Too far to jump, and anyone who reached the bottom would be a sitting duck for any defenders waiting at the end of the corridor that was undoubtedly at the base of the chute, ready and waiting having already been alerted to the approach of enemies by the sounds of their foot falls on the ladder echoing down to them.
Gorons aren't exactly bow and arrow types, but there's no way there's nothing waiting for us down there. Bomb traps at the worst. Still, I can't rule out the possibility of arrows…and Zelda's little song won't get me in again. That missing guard will have told them what happened when it was played at the gate…Dammit, this is going to a real bitch.
"You two," he said, indicating a pair of dinofols. "Go and get shields from the stalfos. Get four." The dinofols saluted quickly and bounded off to fetch the shields. When they returned with the round shields Link dipped an edge of each into the lava of the volcano just long enough to melt it slightly, then quickly mashed the melted edges together to make two double-shields, which he again melted slightly the along the long sides and fused them together. Altogether he now had a four-shield wall with a hole in the center where the four round shields curved away from each other. He would cover this with his own shield. Then, climbing onto the top rungs of the ladder, he had the dinofols hang the shield wall on his back using the arm straps on the backs to the shields. Finally, he began his descent.
When he reached the base of the shaft, he quickly unhooked the shields and pulled on his own, using it to cover the hole while holding the wall up in his other hand, and waiting for the clatter of projectiles on metal. When it didn't come, he shifted his shield to look out the hole. He had been right, there was a long corridor extending from the base of the shaft, as if the whole thing had been picked up by a gigantic pair of hands and just bent into a ninety-degree angle. He had also been wrong, though. There were no defenders in sight. Instead, the walls, ceiling, and floor of the passageway were covered in little pits that flared jets of fire every few seconds.
Calling to the dinofols at the top to come down the ladder, he stared at the new task before him. It was going to be difficult, to say the least, to get his entire force to the other end without suffering casualties. The fire pits belched flame at random intervals and lengths of time, so there was no way to work out a pattern of movement. It might be doable, though; if they would just SHUT UP FOR ONE GODSDAMN SECOND.
He could see a switch at the other end of the corridor; one of the kind that was activated when stuck by something. With any luck it shut off the fire vents. Abandoning the shields and drawing his bow and knocking an arrow, he aimed and fired. The arrow never made it. It was incinerated long before it got near the switch. Link groaned angrily. Telling the dinofols to wait where they stood, he moved down the corridor. It would be tricky, but doable: the fire vents blew little jets of steam for a split second before they flared up. If he could just avoid that, he could make it.
There were a couple of close calls, but eventually he made it to the end. Activating the switch, something finally went his way and the fires all went out, allowing the dinofols to rush down the passageway to him with a speed he had never seen them put on before. The heat must really be doing wonders for them. Surveying the room they now found themselves in, he was puzzled. There still wasn't a goron in sight. There were several doors radiating off this room in different directions. He ordered different pairs of dinofols to different ones, sending at least two or three pairs to each. Except for one. At the top of the stairs and to the left, one door seemed to be calling to him, and he approached it, alone. He opened it, and stepped inside.
Beyond the door was a vast lake of lava. Tall columns of rock rose out of it, creating platforms which Link used to cross the lake to an immense door on the other side. Opening this, Link found himself atop a huge rock platform, perforated here and there by lava pits. The whole thing rose up out of another lake of lava.
And standing in the center of the platform, a large, silver warhammer in his hands, stood Darunia.
"Hello, Link," he said, his voice flat and compassionless, his face a mask of rage and sorrow. "One of my guards tells me that he heard the Royal Song, and upon opening the doors his companions were slaughtered by the Evil King's minions. Tell me, were you the one who played it?" His normally strong voice had the slight tremble of pleading in it. Please, please, just tell me it wasn't you. Just tell me it wasn't you, tell me you're still on our side. Please, please still be on our side.
Sorry to disappoint you.
"It was me, Darunia. Have you not heard? Ganondorf is the Evil King, and I…I am his Dark Prince." He smiled, a cruel, mocking little smile that said it all. You are a fool. You are going to die, and I will dance upon your grave. You were a fool to hope. A fool to believe that I might still be the foolish little boy who came to you all those years ago.
Two years ago, maybe even one year ago, he couldn't have done it. He couldn't have done that to Darunia. He would have remained silent, or maybe even apologized, said he was sorry, that he didn't want to do it, but he had to. It was the way things had to be. The same speech he had given to Ruto. But not any more. Ganondorf's influence had wound far too deep into him. His heart had turning black for a long time, ever since that night when he had joined Ganondorf. And now…now it was more black than it was white, though the white still clung desperately, like a parasite, sucking away his conviction in moments like these. But not today.
Link drew his sword.
Darunia's expression flickered for a second between immense sadness and tremendous anger, before settling on its default, stern stare.
"Very well," he said, his voice once more that which Link had always associated with him; stern and humorless, but now devoid of the touch of fatherly tones that Darunia had always addressed him with before. "If that is how it is, then that is how it shall be. One of us will not leave this room alive." He hefted the great hammer in his hands, assuming a defensive posture as Link shifted his grip on his sword and flexed his arm in the leather straps of his shield. For a time neither moved a muscle, both waiting for the other to make the first move. It quickly became apparent that neither was going to do so willingly, and so it became a duel of wills, each straining their patience to their breaking points, willing the other to make the first charge.
Link's patience broke first, and he charged Darunia screaming a warcry, his sword held back, ready to slash. As he brought his blade around Darunia blocked the blow with the shaft of the great hammer, one hand at the base, one just beneath the head, and with his great strength, threw Link off-balance with a quick shove of the hammer before Link could bring his blade around again. Seizing the opportunity, the goron leader swung the hammer in a blurring arc that would have sent Link over the edge of the platform had he not rolled under the hammer in the direction the weapon had come from and, leaping back to his feet, he slashed again at Darunia. His blade bounced harmlessly off the goron's back, and Link was forced back by a flurry of punches from the goron's beefy fists, one still clutching the hammer at half shaft. Spinning in place, Darunia brought one fist around in a punch that, although he had brought his shield up to block at the last second, lifted him off his feet at sent him flying several yards into one of the little lava pools. It would have ended there were it not for Link's red tunic. Jumping back to his feet, Link leaped back once more as Darunia brought the hammer down, causing a spray of molten rock. As soon as his foot touched ground again, Link lunged forward, taking several quick stabs at Darunia's gut, each of which missed as the goron hopped back with surprising agility. Bringing the blade around in a fast spin, Link caught Darunia's cheek with the tip of the blade, drawing a thin trickle of blood as the goron rushed him and knocked Link off his feet with a powerful shoulder thrust, and brought down the hammer in his other hand with enough force to crush Link's skull had the teen not rolled aside seconds before. By the time Link was back on his feet Darunia was swinging the hammer high above his head in great circles with one hand, and advancing on him, his other hand drew back in a bunched fist. Taking a chance, Link flipped backwards and, sheathing his blade and reattaching his shield to his back as he did, he caught the edge of the platform just as he went over and, finding the side of the platform to be wrought with rocky protrusions, he swung himself down out of sight of Darunia. Peering out from beneath an outcrop, he could see Darunia peering back, not seeing him.
Thank the goddesses for the weak eyesight of the goron race.
As soon as Darunia's head had disappeared from view Link began his ascent, quickly scaling the wall and peaking over the edge to see Darunia bent over, the hammer beside him, in silent prayer, perhaps for victory, perhaps for Link to truly be dead, perhaps even that Link's spirit find peace. Link would never know, as he pulled himself over the edge and redrew his sword, making sure to scrape the blade along the side of the sheath in order to produce a sharp metallic squeal. Darunia spun around, his eyes wide with disbelief for only a fraction of a second before the hardness and rage returned. Grabbing up his hammer, it was Darunia who charged first this time, swinging at Link, who jumped aside, meaning for the goron to plummet over the side Link had just scaled, but to no avail. Darunia seemed to have sensed the feint, and had stopped short, turning on the spot to face Link once more.
But Link was in control now.
Unleashing a flurry of sword strikes on the goron, Link drew him steadily back until Darunia lunged forward, rolling into a ball, rolling past Link, rolling very quickly around the edge of the platform, and finally, sprouting spikes all along his rolling body and rolling toward Link, who only just leapt out of the way in time. He'd had no idea gorons could do that. Be that as it may, Darunia was coming around for another pass, and Link had no idea how to counter this new attack. Throwing himself out of the way at the last second once more, a desperate ploy came to him, and he lashed out with his sword, making to stab the goron's vulnerable side, only to have the surprisingly maneuverable rolling goron twist suddenly so that the sword was caught by the spikes and ripped from his grasp, then flung away. As Darunia rolled away to make another pass, Link watched the blade twirling through the air, and ran to be where it was when it came down. As he neared the edge of the platform he hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder to check on Darunia's position, turning back just in time to see the magnificent sword hit the edge and, in a shower of sparks, ricochet off the rocks and over the edge, far out of Link's reach, and tumble through the air down into the molten rock.
As it disappeared beneath the surface Link felt a great pain rush through him, originating in his chest and spreading. It felt as if his body were being electrified, as if he had come in contact with an entire colony of those jellyfish things had had faced so many years ago in the belly of Jabu-Jabu. Crying out in pain, he tried to stand with no success. As soon as the pain had come it was gone, and Link was painfully aware that Darunia was right on top of him. Throwing himself aside, he unthinkingly drew his bow and, acting purely on instinct, knocked an arrow and let fly with the same muttered string of words he had chanted on the Death Mountain Trail. The ice arrow struck the ground right where Link had lain a split-second before. Darunia, already turning sharply to aim once more at Link, hit the patch of ice skidding sideways and lost control, careening off the edge. Shutting his eyes and trying to re-inflate his lungs, Link silently prayed that Darunia had plunged to his death. His prayers were unanswered though, as he heard the angry grunts and groans of the goron as he heaved his massive bulk up the rocky wall. Struggling to his hands and knees, a glint of silver caught his eyes. Thinking it was his sword for a moment before he remembered it had fallen into the lava, he realized it to be the hammer Darunia had been wielding. He must have dropped it when he began rolling.
Crawling to it as quickly as he could, he managed to get unsteadily to his feet, and picked it up. It has far heavier than Link had expected, after seeing the goron wield it easily single-handedly, Link laughed inwardly at his own idiocy. Gorons were much stronger than humans; of course it had been easy for Darunia. For Link though, it would be nearly impossible to lift in his current state. He would do it anyway though, and hefted the great hammer onto his shoulders, his knees threatening to buckle beneath the weight.
Moving back to the edge of the platform he could see Darunia below him, scare feet between the goron and the top. Standing over the goron imposingly as he could manage, he looked down disgustedly at Darunia, who looked up at him with equal hatred in his eyes. He had stopped climbing.
"Do it then," the goron said, his voice strong and loud. "Finish me. Let me die like my ancestors: with pride!" Link stared down at him.
"Then die," he said, adjusting his grip on the hammer. "Die with all the pride you want, you'll still be dead and my father will finally dominate this land. It doesn't matter how you die, only that you do." Link's words seemed to set something off in Darunia, and his face wore an expression of the greatest loathing and rage Link had seen from him yet.
"You are no Sworn Brother of mine! Serve the Evil King and know this: you mean nothing to Ganondorf! No one means anything to that monstrosity but himself! You'll see! Someday, somewhere down the line, you'll find yourself at the end of his sword with no friends to come to your aid, and then, then you will die, alone and afraid! Finish me! Finish me and hurry off to your death, for you are no longer any Sworn Brother of mine!" Link's eyes narrowed as Darunia's ranting came to a close, and he raised the hammer into the air.
"You know, I never really understood what that meant anyway," he said, coldly, as he brought the hammer down in a mighty arc that smashed Darunia's right hand into pulp and shook the very platform itself. The vibrations of the hammer in his hands almost caused him to drop it in, and he only managed to hold on with one hand, and he watched as Darunia fell away from the wall, his hand gushing blood and his face covered in an expression of pain and sorrow, unrelated to his crushed hand.
Link lay completely still in his bed, hardly even breathing. His bed was soaked in sweat, and his body felt as if he was back inside Death Mountain. No light came through the window; the night sky was completely overcast, so he lay in the dark. After some time the sweat was mixed with tears.
He had not understood what Sworn Brothers meant all those year ago when Darunia had proclaimed them to be so, nor had he fully understood it when he had sent Darunia falling to his death hardly a year ago. But he understood it now, and with the memory of Darunia's words lingering even now as he lay awake after his nightmarish memories, he wept unabashed, praying that no one could see him.
