Hey Dark fans! Another chapter is here! But first, it's time to reply to reviews! Yay!
Ok, firstly, thanks again for all the positive comments. They make me smile! But, more specifically, to answer Ranma Hibiki's questions: 1) no, he doesn't have an ocarina, because if you remember in the game Link got two ocarinas, one form Saria as a gift and the Ocarina of Time from Zelda. Dark didn't receive one from anyone, and it doesn't seem very likely that he'd have every piece of equipment Link does. Funny you should ask about ocarinas, though… (smiles secretively) Read on to see what I mean! 2) The grappling hook will be explained in this very chapter, fear not!
Steeple333: I'm making his eyes become less red for a very important reason. I think they look cool that way too, but it works, you'll see! Also, the talking thing is very nice, but I'd prefer if you e-mailed me to chat.
Onii-Gil: I'm so glad you like my story so much! That gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. : D
PsychoSpiff: Yes, I believe that you will like that test! But that will be in the next chapter, and not this one. This one is a little twist of my own design… read on to see what I mean!
Anyway, moving on! On with the story!
Chapter 6: Duel in the Royal Tomb – A Test of Strength
Dark dreamt that he was standing in a small, unfurnished room made entirely of white stone. There was a glow that seemed to come from everywhere at once, and it filled the room with light. As his eyes adjusted to the glare, he saw that he was not alone. There was another figure in the room with him, a woman who seemed to be surging with magic. A sort of green energy pulsed in the air about her, giving off its own glow to add to that of the room. It shined so bright that Dark could barely see the figure herself. "Hello," she said, and her voice was calm and zephyr-like. "I am Farore, the goddess of Courage. I already know who you are." She smiled, and whatever fear that Dark felt upon first seeing her melted away.
"What is this place?" he asked, looking around. He saw only white walls, and nothing else.
"This is simply a place in your subconscious mind," said Farore. "A place that lies deep in your soul. You have visited this place before, but knew it not. You have been through many trials, but you still have much to learn.
"However, this is not the reason that I stand before you. Tell me, what is the aim of your quest?"
"You do not know?" asked Dark. "I seek the Spiritual Stones so that I may open the way into the Dark World and defeat Ganondorf."
"Are you sure that is your goal?" she asked him, and something in her tone suggested that she did not believe that it was. "Think hard on that before you declare it so. That is what I have come to say." She turned, as if to leave the place, but turned back. "By the way, if you were wondering, I was the one who gave you the strange artifact. I slipped it into your pack while you slept in the Temple of Time, because I knew it would be of some use to you. I would have given you something more sophisticated, but my sister Nayru said that we weren't suppose to help at all. She's no fun." She smiled again, then turned and walked away, slowly disappearing into thin air, her last words fading with her, "Good luck!"
Dark awoke in a dimly-lit chamber. The only light came from a torch in one corner of the room that filled the air with the sharp smell of burning wood. Dark sat up, and found that he was lying on a soft bed with a warm fur draped over him to serve as a blanket. The Goron's Ruby and his other things were lain out on a small wooden table beside his bed, and there was a tray of food sitting there, still warm. Dark tucked the Ruby into his pack, and then helped himself to the food. He was eagerly spooning down the soup when there was a voice at the flap of skin that served as his door. "You awake yet?" it called, and Dark was certain the voice belonged to Darunia. Seconds later, the big goron's head popped in, and he looked at Dark with a smile. "So you are," he said. "Glad to see your appetite is good."
Dark finished his soup, then got out of his bed and bowed respectfully to Darunia. "I am very thankful for your hospitality," he said.
"It's nothing," said Darunia. "And you don't have to bow, kid. Formalities are for stiffs. We Gorons like to have fun without any real regard to manners, unless we have to be polite, of course." Dark straitened up, and he gave the youth a hearty slap on the back, almost knocking him over.
Dark winced and smiled feebly. "I'm sorry I can't stay," he said, "but I have some pressing matters to attend to." He donned his cloak and shouldered his pack, then offered his hand to Darunia. "So long, friend."
"So long, kid," said Darunia, taking Dark's hand and practically crushing it in his vice-like grip. "Come back soon, eh? We'll have us a big party! It'll be great!"
"Sure," said Dark, shaking his throbbing hand. He gave Darunia a quick smile, and then passed the goron into the City.
Goron City was actually a sort of enormous cave cut out of the mountain by the rock-eating Gorons, with a single, main room of several floors, and many other smaller rooms branching off the various floors. Dark's room had been on the top floor, and looking down at the bottom floor, he saw that the giant vase was still there, but it no longer spun. The Gorons reacted unexpectedly to his presence: instead of getting frightened and rolling into ball, they greeted him warmly; they greeted him as a friend. Dark returned the greetings, suddenly sorry that he had to leave. Now he wanted more than anything to stay and join them in one of their parties, but he knew from the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he had to go and face his destiny.
Dark exited the City with some reluctance, and there to greet him was Shadowmane. There was a pile of some sort of grain near the horse, as well as a deep vat of water, and Dark was assured that his horse had been taken care of as well. He climbed into the saddle, and then with one last look towards the Goron stronghold, he set off down Death Mountain, mentally plotting his course towards Zora's River. He wasn't exactly looking forward to being around all of that water, but it was possible to reach Zora's Domain without getting wet, and he had to get the Zora's Sapphire.
It was early morning when he reached the bottom of the trail and the entrance to Kakariko Village. He was unsettled by the silence that loomed over the town, and rode stealthily past the dark houses, not wanting to disturb the quiet for anything. He'd ridden to the tree near the exit to Hyrule Field when an arrow whizzed down from one of the rooftops, striking Dark in the shoulder and knocking him off his horse. Shadowmane reared up in fear as a group of men rushed forward, a few of them turning aside to subdue the frantic beast. The rest grouped around Dark, brandishing pitchforks and other makeshift weapons.
Dark rose slowly, then got hold of the arrow and yanked it from his shoulder, gritting his teeth against the pain. He tossed the offending object away and clutched at the wound as pain flared up in his arm, glaring at the men in spite and confusion. The villagers grew tense, sensing his anger, then two men bravely (or foolishly) came forward and pinned him against the rock wall behind him. One of the men came forward brandishing a shovel, and Dark was forcibly reminded of his first meeting with Talon at the Ranch. "You'll pay for what you did, demon," growled the man, hefting the shovel.
"I haven't done anything!" cried Dark, angry and confused. He had no clue what this man was on about.
"Oh yeah?" said the man, bringing his face close to Dark's. "If you weren't the one who let the shadow spirit out, who did?"
"I have no clue what you're talking about," said Dark, completely confused.
"Lies!" cried the man. He held up a small object, just a bit bigger than the man's fist. It was blue and egg-shaped, and seemed to glow in the early morning light. "I found this in the graveyard," said the man, "the ocarina that has been in my family for years! My son was lying nearby, dead!" Tears ran down his cheeks, and a few of the men moved over to comfort him. Dark stared at the ocarina in the man's hand, almost positive that it was the Ocarina of Time. But what was this man doing with it?
A citizen stood forward, and Dark turned his attention to him. "The Princess should have ordered your death when she had the chance!" he cried. "Now we will kill you ourselves and rid her of the trouble!" He moved in, followed by the rest of the crowd. The man with the ocarina pushed his way to the front and brought the shovel back, aiming to chop Dark in half like a worm. The villagers all raised their weapons, their eyes devoid of mercy.
"STOP!" A sharp, commanding voice cut across the proceedings. They all looked around to see that Impa, Zelda's bodyguard and head of Kakariko Village, was headed strait for them with an angry look on her face. "What is going on here?" she asked, coming to stand just outside the group.
"We found the one who let the spirit out, m'lady!" cried one of the men, pointing to Dark. Impa poked her way past the men to get a better look, and a look of recognition flashed across her face before it was replaced by her usual passive mask. She turned back toward the men, sweeping the crowd with a hard look.
"What proof do you have that this… person is guilty of the crime you accuse him with?" she said in a hard tone, crossing her arms.
Nobody spoke. Silence beat on the air for a minute, and then a man said, "Do we need any? I mean, look at him." There was a murmur of agreement that spread throughout the crowd.
"So?" said Impa. "Look at me! I look different from the rest of you. Will you accuse me of a crime I did not commit because I wear the garb of my people and not yours? I, who have looked after this village from the beginning, am not to be judged by my looks, and neither is this man."
"But, m'lady!" said the same man, "he doesn't look like either of our kinds, or a Goron, or anything! He's a demon!"
"He is not," said Impa. "He is innocent. He did not release the spirit."
"Then who did?" asked one of the men.
"Ganondorf." A hush fell over the crowd. Dark looked at her intently, surprised by this new bit of information. "He is still locked up in the Shadow Realm, but he is gaining strength," explained Impa. "Those servants of oldest evil are awakening to his call, including the spirit in the Graveyard."
The crowd grew hushed, and they let their weapons drop to the ground. Impa nodded to them curtly, and then turned to Dark. "Come with me," she said. She walked off toward the largest house in the village, and Dark followed close behind, whistling for Shadowmane, who trotted along behind them.
As they entered the house, Impa gestured to a stool near the lit fireplace, and Dark sat in it. Shadowmane remained outside, looking in through the door. "Your horse acts very strangely," commented Impa, setting a kettle on the fire to warm some water. "He's very attached to you."
Dark shrugged, and winced as pain shot through his shoulder. "We've just reached an understanding, I guess," he said, gritting his teeth again. "We've both suffered at the hands of Ganondorf."
"You aren't still one of his minions?" asked Impa imploringly.
"No," said Dark. "I used to be, up until the time Link came. All I did was sit in that stupid room, and when Link finally came, when I finally had a chance to do what I was made to do, he beat me. But I'm glad he did, because now I know that he was right all along.
"I learned a lot from his memories in the time I was in the Temple. I share his memories because I'm a part of him, and remember seeing things in his memories that were so strange at the time; rocks, birds, trees with leaves on their branches. Through the memories, I discovered who I was. The foggiest moments I could remember were moments of pure joy, while the clearest ones, the ones that felt real, were his moments of deepest fear, or anger, or sadness. I knew that I'd been there every time something bad had happened to him, every time he'd dealt a blow, or suffered one. That's who I was." He didn't say, "And I still am." He felt different than he had the day he encountered Link for the first time.
He suddenly realized that he'd poured his heart out to Impa, and told her everything that was on his mind. He looked up at her, and she smiled. "Don't worry," she said, taking the kettle off as it started to sing. "I won't tell anyone anything that you just told me. I'm good at keeping secrets. After all, I have been Zelda's bodyguard all her life." She poured the hot water into a bowl and crushed some herbs into it, and soon the room was filled with their strong, refreshing fragrance. She found a clean cloth and brought a chair over next to Dark, setting the bowl on a table nearby. "Let me look at your shoulder," she said, dipping the cloth into the water.
Dark moved his hand away from his shoulder, and saw that instead of bleeding black mist, his shoulder had soaked his shirt in real blood. It was black, but it had the right consistency. I wonder what that means, thought Dark. Impa dabbed at the wound with the cloth, and it stung fiercely. Dark screwed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, but said nothing. As she worked, Impa asked him, "What were you doing up on Death Mountain?"
Dark hesitated in his reply. There was no way he could tell her what he'd actually gone up there for without arousing her suspicions. So he told her a half-truth. "I was earning the friendship of the Gorons."
"Oh?" said Impa, raising an eyebrow. "And why would you want to do that?"
"Is it such a terrible thing to want a few friends?"
Impa wasn't entirely convinced. "I guess not."
Dark knew she wasn't buying it, so he fed her another half-truth. "But that wasn't the reason I went up there." He paused, and Impa implored him to go on. "Well… to be honest, I went up there to see the sights. I've seen Death Mountain before, from Link's memories, but I've never been there. I was just curious, I guess."
Impa nodded, and he knew she'd bought it, if only for the moment. He decided to change the subject. "What is this, spirit, that is killing villagers in the Graveyard?" he asked, a plan forming in his mind.
"It is a ghost of an evil man who was once captain of the King's army," said Impa, who was done cleaning the wound and was spreading a poultice on a linen pad to bind to his shoulder. "In life, he was cruel and ambitious. He showed no mercy in battle, and used insincere methods to climb the social ladder of the King's court." She bound the pad to his shoulder with a clean strip of linen, speaking as she did, "One day, he was caught aiding the enemy and was executed. His body was buried in the forest behind the Graveyard." She tied off the bandage. "There. That should help it heal quicker."
Dark moved his arm, testing it. "Thank you," he said to Impa. Impa smiled and nodded, then went and opened the door of the house, suggesting that it would be best if he was on his way.
He exited the house and saw a group of men muttering nearby, among them the man whose son had died. Dark approached them, and they all shrank away from him in fear. He ignored their reaction and crossed his arms in a business-like way, saying, "I will destroy the ghost."
The crowd stared at him for a minute, unbelieving, and then one of them stood forward in anger. "Why should we trust you?" he asked Dark suspiciously. "You're going to help us, right after we tried to kill you? For what price?"
Dark said calmly, "I will help you. And for that deed and in compensation for our little misunderstanding, I name my prize."
"And how will you kill it if you're unarmed?" asked the man.
"I will manage," replied Dark. "Do we have a deal?"
The men huddled together and had a whispered conference until they'd reached an agreement. "Alright," said one of the men. "We will trust you because Impa trusts you."
Dark nodded, and then headed off in the direction of the Graveyard. The men watched as he walked up the short path and around a corner, then one of them whispered, "He's a dead man." The others nodded in agreement.
Dark stood at the entrance to the Graveyard and looked around, taking in the sight of rows and rows of gravestones, the final resting place of soldiers who'd died in the service of their king. Quite a few of the gravestones had been broken or blasted away; signs of the Spirit's passing. Dark moved among them, inescapably drawn to the tomb at the back of the Graveyard, which was larger than the rest. The tombstone was gone, demolished by the sweet strains of Zelda's Lullaby on one of Link's journeys to the Graveyard when he was a child, and Dark looked down into it. The sickly-sweet smell of death wafted up to greet him, and he was suddenly certain that his quarry was hiding in that tomb. Guess it doesn't like the sun, thought Dark. He gathered his wits about himself, and then jumped down through the hole.
He was immediately engulfed in the horrid stench of the tomb, and his eyes stung as he looked around in the dim light. Rotting corpses lay strew about, and mildew covered the floor and walls. There was a door at the other end of the room, and the two torches on either side were lit, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Dark picked up a piece of broken timber and went over, holding one end in the fire of a torch until it lit. The extra torch did little to throw back the heavy darkness that hung like a curtain in the room. Dark pulled a sword out of the stomach of a nearby corpse and went through the door, which slid open of its own accord.
The room beyond was filled with toxic fumes, and there were pools of acid in the floor that spewed green gases into the air. Dark recognized the place, but felt that something was missing. Where were the re-deads? Whatever, he thought, shrugging it off. He continued through the room, careful to avoid the pools. He wasn't looking for re-deads, so what did it matter?
Dark reached the door at the other end of the room without much trouble, and it opened in the same fashion as the other. Dark stepped into the room in which a young Link had learned the Sun's Song, but saw that the headstone on which the song had been written was smashed to pieces, and in front of it sat the spirit. It was a skeletal, almost transparent ghost, dressed in its military uniform. It had form from the waist up, but below that its coat hung in tatters and it floated off the ground without any legs or feet. It wore a hat with a large brim, dark blue and trimmed with silver like the rest of his outfit.
It was woken from its sleep by Dark's entrance, and it shook the sleep from its head. It squinted towards the doorway and said, "Who goes there?" in a voice that was like the wind whistling through a hollow skull.
Dark did not answer immediately. Instead, he strode forward, holding his sword out in full view of the spirit. He issued it a challenge, saying, "I am a warrior who has come to vanquish you. Stand forth and fight."
It stared at him a moment, and then laughed a laugh that could've rotted live trees from the inside out. "Fool!" it rasped. "I know who you are, shadow, and I know you do not have the strength you used to. Traitors like you have no place among the living. Prepare to die!" He drew two swords that were stuck in the ground beside him and roared a roar that shook Dark to his bones. The youth wondered at this, since it should not have any effect on him at all, but he forced it out of his mind. Thinking quickly, he hauled back and chucked the torch at his adversary. It hit the specter in the face, setting it on fire, and Dark took advantage of the distraction to turn and bolt through the door, knowing that he was at a disadvantage in the small room.
Dark jumped the acid pools in the chamber beyond as another roar rent the air, and reached the door to the first chamber just as the spirit glided through the one behind him, no longer on fire (since fire can't travel through stone). He slipped through the door and ducked to one side of it. As his foe glided past him, Dark hefted his sword in both hands and swung at it. The blade passed through its target without stopping, and without harming his enemy, who laughed and spun about, dealing Dark its own blow. The youth was thrown against the wall of the tomb, a newly-opened gash in his chest bleeding heavily.
Dark dropped into a sitting position, gasping for breath, with the flat of his blade leaning against his shoulder. Some of the blood got on the pitted metal, and it was soaked up, staining it black. Dark wondered at this as the ghost grew closer, raising its sword high above its head and closing in for the kill. He surged up and away, dodging the attack and placing the blade against his wound at the same time, then he lashed out. The blood-stained blade sliced through his enemy's ghostly hide, and Dark was satisfied to hear a painful wail pierce the air. It appeared that Dark's blood had given it the power to affect ghosts.
The spirit turned and attacked with increased fury, but Dark had "expert swordsman" written on every fiber of his being, and after a short exchange, he lunged and drove the sword strait through the ghost's supposed stomach. The specter screamed in pain and shock as the blade sucked all of the energy out of it, and Dark was hard put to hold onto the hilt as it pulled. Finally, the ghost was reduced to a wisp of mist that dissipated into the close air, and Dark was left staring at his sword in morbid fascination.
A large strand of mist wrapped itself around the blade, and then disappeared. It seemed to hum in his hand, and Dark suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to kill. To kill all of the people in the village, maybe, or all the people in Hyrule. The blade grew warm, as if screaming for blood. Dark knew then that no amount of blood would quench its thirst. His own blood had cursed the blade, and given it an evil life of its own. He was determined not to fight with such a blade.
Dark swung his blade as hard as he could against the wall of the tomb, and it shattered on contact. A hundred pieces flew in every direction, bouncing off skeletons and skidding across the floor. Dark tossed the broken hilt to the ground, and it landed with a resounding 'clang' next to the phantom's swords, which had not disappeared. Dark scooped his enemy's swords up and tucked them into his pack, and then turned and climbed up to the surface.
A few minutes later, when the villagers saw Dark emerge from the graveyard alive and unscathed (aside from the wound in his chest which had been sealed as Dark's blood cursed his blade), they were amazed. They were even more amazed when he tossed the weapons of the spirit at their feet as proof of his victory. "We made a deal," he said in a business-like tone. "I will name my prize, and then be on my way."
One of the men came forward. "Forgive us for being so impolite towards you," he said. "We hope you will forgive us, and hold no hard feelings. What do you desire to be your prize? We will give it to you."
Dark looked at the man whose son had been slain by the spirit. "Your ocarina," he said. "May I have it?"
"Of course," said the man, fishing it out of his pocket. "It would only remind me of my loss." He tossed it to Dark, who examined it. It was the same vivid blue as the Ocarina of Time, and the same size, but he needed to be sure it was the one; otherwise it was useless to him. He brought the mouthpiece to his lips and played the Song of Storms, his hands working automatically to manipulate the sounds as though he'd played it a hundred times before. The mysteriously beautiful melody drifted through the crowd and filled the air with its perfect tone, and as Dark finished, he held his breath. At first, nothing happened, and Dark's heart sank for a few agonizing moments as he was sure he'd been mistaken.
Then a drop of rain hit him in the nose, and he looked up to see that storm clouds had gathered over the village and rain was beating down hard, when a few minutes ago it had been clear and sunny. He smiled to himself. It was the Ocarina of Time. The golden seal of the Royal Family had been peeled off, and it was a bit dirty, but it had to be the one. No other instrument could possibly have that kind of tone quality, or those magical attributes.
With a small laugh of relief, Dark whistled for Shadowmane, who trotted over. He swung himself up into the saddle, and then looked at the villagers, who where looking at him in astonishment. He gave them a smart wink, then gave his horse a swift kick and rode out of the Village and into Hyrule Field as the rain began to magically lift around him.
To Be Continued
A/N: Hey, guys! I'm really sorry this took so long. My Internet was down for the longest time. Anyway, I finally got this up! Hope you liked it.
P.S. As a treat for all the loyal fans who checked this story every day and was disappointed, I have written another little Zelda story. It's a one-shot western. Check it out!