Chapter 42: Return to the Shadows
It took much effort for Link to avert his gaze from the Phantom's open, lifeless eyes, full of death and sorrow. He could feel the mountain grow dark, the Phantom Hourglass casting its black glow everywhere, sucking up all color and replacing it with shadows. Link walked down towards the Hourglass and touched the surface.
"It's over, isn't it?" Link turned around to see Maple, her body bruised and beaten. She walked up to him, and for a moment Link cringed, but then held himself together. "I'm sorry," she said. "You may not believe me, but I truly have changed."
Link held his hand to the glass, feeling the burning hotness pulse through his skin.
"I guess it wasn't enough just to kill the Phantom," another voice spoke. Link turned around to see Wade, also in a poor state, but still able to walk without difficulty. "Link, what are we going to do now?"
"I don't know," the Hero said truthfully. His green clothes were now grey, and the usual hopeful tint in his eyes was no longer present. He heard a rock fall in the distance, and turned to see someone climbing up the side of the mountain.
His eyes lit up. "Tetra!" he cried, and ran towards her. They met near the cliff, and embraced each other. "Tetra, thank goodness you're well. Why have you come?"
"To help you, of course," she answered, looking down into the pit. She saw the Phantom Hourglass, but that was not what her eyes dwelled upon. It was Maple. But she reminded herself that Maple had changed –that if it wasn't for her, the town may have been destroyed.
They went down into the pit. "Now, what seems to be the problem?" Tetra asked.
"I slew the Phantom," Link began, "just as the Oracle said I needed to do. But apparently it wasn't enough. This sweeping of lightless dust that has passed over the mountain means that the Dark World and the Light World will soon collide. If something is not done soon, this war may not be over yet."
"Link," Wade interjected, "maybe you are thinking too much about this. Maybe it is as simple as destroying the Phantom Hourglass."
"I've tried that before," Link said. "It wouldn't break, remember?"
"But the last time you tried, even if it was not long ago, you were not the same person you are now. The sword you hold in your hand now is proof enough of this."
The Hero of Winds nodded. "I'll give it a try."
Link took out the Hero's Sword, the metal giving off the only light in the area. Waiting just a moment, he swiped his arm in a downward curve and made contact with the Hourglass. He expected to retract the sword, hearing a clang, but that was not what occurred. The glass seemed to shatter even before the blade struck it. The shards of glass fell to the ground like droplets of water, the sand piled up beneath it. There was a moment where Link stood in place, the sword still held where he had struck the now fragmented Hourglass, just watching the pieces as they fell to the earth. He could not believe it. And all that remained standing where the Hourglass once stood was the metallic frame.
For a moment there was nothing, but then…
"Link, what is happening!" Tetra cried. He had only blinked once, but in that split second, the world had taken a new shape. The first thing he noticed was that color had returned, yet everything still seemed bleak. They were still atop a mountain, but all was not the same. The remnants of the broken Hourglass were gone, as was the pit. He peered over the edge of the mountain not to see the saved town and grassy fields, but miles and miles of dust and red earth. Link looked up into the sky, and his eyes caught its crimson glow.
"Where are we?" he asked. He looked around him, and gruesome monsters were surrounding them. Tetra, Maple, Link, and Wade all crowded around one another, staring out into the hoard of demons. One among them stepped forward: a giant pig carrying a trident.
"Ah, Link," the pig grunted. "So nice of you to arrive."
Link recognized the face –the ugly snout and two bulging horns. He had seen it before –when the Phantom was close to bringing Link to this place. "Who are you?" Link asked.
"My name is Ganon," he answered. "You need not introduce yourself, Link. I know all about you. When you've met one, you've met them all. The Triforce of Courage -that is who you are. You must have fought hard to get here. No doubt you've killed the Phantom. You must think fondly of yourself, and the accomplishments you've made. But in the face of raw power, it all melts away –it all just trickles down to nothing like the sands in the Phantom Hourglass you obviously destroyed. Yes, I am aware that you hold some power. That blade in your hand has many names: the Hero's Sword, the Master Sword, the Sword of Evil's Bane. But none of those titles truly emphasize the true purpose of the sword. It brought you here, Link. It was the final piece in the puzzle, the last talisman that brought you to your true potential. And why did you need to reach your true potential, you ask? To come here, of course. To confront me. And to die by my hands for the final time."
When the Hermit made it out of the forest, he could not bring himself to enter the town. He saw the people running towards him, to the edge of the forest. They knew that he had succeeded –that Wirlin was gone forever. He longed to live with those people –to be part of their lives. But looking at the stub where his arm had been, he knew his dream was erroneous. His arm could never grow back. He could never return to the town and pretend that all those years of hiding had been but a mirage.
"Hermit," a faint voice sqeaked. He turned around but saw nothing, wondering if he hadn't killed Wirlin after all. "Down here." Uriel bent low and strained his eyes to see –to his everlasting surprise- a tiny person, the size of a small bird or even an insect. "I am a Picori," the tiny man explained. "My name is Owen."
"Can this be?" the Hermit said. "The Minish are real?"
"Listen to me," the tiny man said. "I am here to help you. The Picori have survived in this forest because of our ability to remain unnoticed. The Twilight could not detect us, and thus we thrived. You have survived in the same way, here in the forest. Even then, it was destined for you to become one of us."
The Hermit looked back, and saw that the townspeople were coming closer. With outstretched arms, they were sprinting towards him, tears of joy in their eyes.
"The sword you crafted yourself, the blade you call the Four Sword –perhaps you've heard of its other name: the Picori Blade? We were the ones who drew up that name. Why did we do so? It just seemed natural. You were destined to become a Picori ever since the day you created that sword. That is why it is the Picori Sword."
"What do you want from me?" Uriel asked.
"You know you can never go back," Owen said. "You want to, but you just can't. All of those days of hiding in these woods have made you inadaptable anywhere else. The shadows are your home. Come with me, Hermit, and you will meet others like yourself. You will have a home again, Hermit, with those who wish to remain in the dark like you. Trust me, Hermit. Take my hand." The Minish held out one of his hands, and Uriel bent low. He placed Farore's Chest –Wirlin trapped within it- on the ground, and allowed Owen to grip his pinky with a tiny hand. Owen began to walk forward, and the Hermit followed. He took one last look at the people and the town behind it, and immersed himself in the darkness.
"We always knew you would return to the forest," the Picori said as they walked through the woods. "I can make you one of us -shrink you down to the size of a Picori. You will be our leader, Hermit, and guide us. You have found a home, Hermit. You need not be unhappy anymore."
