Chapter 19: Origin of the Four Sword

Link struck the Four Sword to the ground in frustration. For hours he had practiced and practiced, trying to retain his severed form for as long as he could, but try as he might, he could never hold his form for long. Sooner or later, the four Links always came back together.

"I can't do it!" Link shouted in disgruntlement.

The Hermit walked over and took the Four Sword from Link. Waving it in the air, he said, "The same had happened to me the first time I picked up this sword. Keep in mind this isn't supposed to be so hard, Link. When I created this sword, I was told a true wielder would have no trouble. That is how I knew this sword was never destined for me. I could use it, of course. It helped me get as far as I did. But I struggled through it all because the Four Sword was never meant for me."

"So you think the Four Sword wasn't meant for me either," Link noted.

"Well, you already knew this. The Hero's Sword was destined for you. It made you the Hero you are today. No sword can truly replace it for you, but with training the Four Sword can be an acceptable substitute." The Hermit handed the sword back to Link. The Hero of Winds nodded and closed his eyes. He separated into four parts. For a while they stood there, nearly motionless. Link experimented by having the purple Link walk around, the red one sit on the ground, and the blue one stand still. They all complied, but within another few moments, they were brought back together as if by a magnet. Link groaned in frustration.

"I think I can help you," the Hermit said. "Perhaps if I finally tell you how the sword was made and where it came from, you will know where the Four Sword generates its power, and thus enable you to wield it correctly." Link nodded and waited. "I was young then, or at least not as old as I am now. I was a young man, I suppose. It was a dark night, and I had gone to the river to retrieve some water…"

The Hermit bent low and submersed the bucket within the murky black waters, tinted with moonlight from above. But as he lifted the filled bucket, he felt a hand grab his beneath the water. The Hermit quickly pulled the bucket out, and he began to see a woman –no, more than a woman- arise from the waters and fly into the air. With locks of red hair falling down from her face and a body that radiating with a flaming light, the creature from the river hovered above the Hermit.

"Din?" the Hermit said softly, unbelieving. "The Goddess? Can it be?" For a young man, the Hermit had already considered himself privileged. He had met Farore, the Goddess of Courage and the Oracle of Secrets. But as she told him, Farore had given up her powers when she became part of the mortal world. Though there was a certain hue that told the Hermit she was more than just a woman, she was still more mortal than Goddess. But this creature, this Din that had surfaced from the water, she was different; in her presence, the Hermit could barely stand without being blown away by her luminosity. Even the once dark night was ignited in red by her mere presence.

"Yes," the Goddess spoke, seeming to awaken the night. The Hermit bent low and bowed to Din. "Rise, Uriel. Yes, I have called you by your natural name. I noticed that the town calls you the Hermit now. It is because you yourself do not feel part of them, as if you never were part of them. But I am here to tell you that you are connected with this place in deeper ways than you know."

"What is it you ask of me?" said Uriel. "Whatever it is, I'll obey, Goddess."

"You are the genesis of a great saga," she said. "You will never know the difference you will make. Uriel, there is a sword that only you can create. I will help you forge this sword, this Picori Blade." Din placed a fiery hand into the water, and it foamed and fumed momentarily. She picked up water in her cuffed hand, and watched as it solidified, took shape, and gained color: red. She handed him the stone. "This is the element of fire." She cupped her hand into the water again three more times, procuring three new stones: green, blue, and purple. One by one she handed him the stones. "These are the elements of wind, water, and earth. When connected, these elements can draw much power. You are to create the blade that harnesses these elements of life. It can only be you, Uriel."

Though the young man, at his age, was quite nervous from the Goddesses' proposal, he accepted. He did not know what she saw in him, why of all people she chose him to create this blade. All he knew was if he failed, it would be all his fault.

"Take care of the elements, dearest Uriel," Din said, slowly lowering into the water once more. "Remember, once it is finished, only the true wielder can hold that sword and awaken its power with ease. Any other is just a protector of the sword. From the time you forge it to the end of time, the Picori Blade will bring greatness." Her body descended beneath the black waters, slowly fading away, and the night went black again from her evanescence.

"…So I took the four elements," said the Hermit, "and I began work on the Picori Blade, though I didn't know at the time I would name it the Four Sword myself. It had taken months to complete; I knew that the blade had to be flawless. Afterwards, as I grew older I practiced for years wielding the sword. Little did I know that I had not truly tapped into its power. One day I accidentally discovered its ability to split its wielder in four. From then on I practiced and practiced until I had nearly mastered the blade. By then, the town thought of me as a legend, and their hero."

Link had not moved his eyes from the man's face throughout the entire story.

"So your name is really Uriel," Link noted.

"It does not matter what my name is," the man said. "I told you that story so you would know why the Four Sword is so powerful. Like the Hero's Sword, its origin is directly from the gods. Din is the one who cultivated this earth, who represents the Triforce of Power, and who made the Four Sword possible. Mark my words. It is no ordinary blade. Like the Hero's Sword, it will take you much time to learn its use, and even longer to master it. But you don't have much time, so we must hurry. Now you know the origin of the Four Sword, the reason why it is so unique."

"I do," Link said eagerly. "And I think I'm ready to try to wield it once again." The Hermit nodded, and Link lifted the Four Sword, preparing to close his eyes and lose his consciousness. But then a flicker of light caught his eye, and he looked to Uriel, deep into the round pools of his eyes, and saw Din, her body flaming with light, her fiery hair dancing in the wind.