They landed hard on the brick path leading up to the Sanctum, Zelda yelping as she caught herself with the palms of her hands and knees. Astor grunted at the sudden impact, and after taking a moment to recover reached out for her, his voice tight with concern.
"Zelda…"
She hissed through the stinging sensation and turned her hands to appraise the state of her abraded palms.
"Can you stand?"
She shifted her legs but made no effort to get to her feet as she took in her surroundings. "I think so…"
The once picturesque walk up to the Sanctum was now a wasteland. The grass was singed black. The trees were barren of their foliage; their bark glowed red with embers that were slowly dying away. Blood red clouds drifted above.
Sprawled out on that brick path they had traversed just days earlier, accompanying her as she faced her father, and just before the Calamity struck, he recalled that first flash of insight into their future when their hands met.
She is holding his hand and bearing down as she braces herself, seeking relief as another wave seizes her…
It had been a far too intimate prophetic vignette thrust upon him without warning that day.
Even now, it sent a pleasurable though eerie chill over his flesh. The promise of things to come.
Presently, Zelda regarded the deteriorated state of her home for a long moment. Then she set her gaze towards the wall of malice that separated them from the others. Lifting her hand, she willed her power against the obstruction. The moments passed, but despite her efforts, the barrier did not weaken.
There was a bitter resignation in the way she dropped her head slowly. "Even now…I am not enough… What good is this power?" Her voice broke, full of shame as the words left her mouth, and Astor could feel the same weariness welling up even within himself.
"You were born for this purpose, Zelda." He reassured her softly.
"Calamity Ganon is cunning…" She muttered, her voice panicked, her downcast gaze fixed on the sacred mark on the back of her hand.
"Fate is in Hylia's hands and Her blood flows through your veins."
Zelda smiled despite herself and gave a shallow nod, holding back tears. The Blood Moon cast a crimson radiance on her golden hair. She wasn't just beautiful. She was divine. And as Astor took in the sight of her a surge of intense feeling alighted in him—devotion beyond anything he'd felt while serving Calamity Ganon. He wouldn't just live for her; he would die for her.
And for this baleful affront, Calamity Ganon's hatred would never die… His hatred for the princess with the blood of the Goddess only strengthened for luring his chosen prophet away.
There was nothing to do but proceed up the path, just as they were, without the backing of the Hyrulean forces; the champions; or even Zelda's appointed knight.
The path ahead was blocked by malice, though there was a door held open by the same noxious murk, and Astor wondered uneasily if Calamity Ganon was leading them down a set path.
They proceeded down a corridor, large swaths of malice pulsating along the walls. The edges of the red rug they walked upon were burnt away. The pair cautiously stepped around the sparse flames that were slowly going out and climbed a short set of stairs. They arrived in a vast room, characterized by many stone columns with banners bearing the royal crest jutting out from them.
The room was silent and empty. Their footfalls echoed off the tiled floor and stone walls.
"It's too quiet… I had expected these halls to be overrun with monsters." Zelda said, uneasily.
At the far end of this grand room were statues of a man and woman—Rhoam in his younger days and the late Queen of Hyrule, perhaps. The man was bearded and imposing, his hands gripped around the hilt of a sword he held in front of him. The same pose as the knight statues that lined the great hall. At the king's side, the queen's hands were clasped in prayer.
Astor, hyper cognizant of the fact that he and Zelda were utterly alone in the castle, still felt Rhoam's disapproving glare on him. The sense of being out of place, of not belonging at her side nearly threatened to overwhelm.
Zelda only regarded the statues fleetingly as she led him further into the castle, navigating the ruin for a path forward. Some hallways were inaccessible from having caved in, leaving nothing but a blockage of rubble.
They entered the dining hall. Swords and spent arrows lay abandoned on the floor, yet there was a disturbing lack of dead guards one might have expected to see, and Astor's imagination ran wild as to what sort of fate they had met.
Zelda was already heading for the exit.
"This way. There's a balcony off the dining hall which will lead us—" She froze. "Do you hear that?" Her eyes widened in recognition.
Astor could only register the ash-filled silence of the room, the air choked with desolation and emptiness. But then there was the prickle that crawled down his skin as the familiar out-of-tune music box reached his hearing from behind the imposing wooden doors.
Zelda gasped, leaping back as the imposing wooden doors were rent open by the thick bladed arm of the Harbinger.
She dodged too late, the multi-edged blade grazing her bicep. She lost her footing, crying out as she fell backward onto one of the long dining tables. The table buckled and splintered under the impact, taking her with it.
His heart pounding as he watched for some movement from her, Astor crawled to Zelda's side in haste. He kept himself close to the floor as the Harbinger continued its assault, trying in vain to reach them through the balcony doors.
The doors teetered on their hinges. Cracks formed in the masonry. The eyes of Malice had regrown on the broad arms of the Harbinger, their slitted yellow irises shifting and regarding them wildly.
"It's bigger now…" Astor observed aloud, his voice a whisper of mounting dread. "Even more so than at the fort."
Zelda raised herself, her bare shoulders reddened and quivering. She gathered her power, her hand shaking violently as she fought through the pain. She didn't even notice the blood dribbling from the crimson slice on her bicep.
Grunting with effort as she brought down her hand, she lobbed an orb of light that struck the Harbinger with a force rapid and strong. The Harbinger appeared unfazed by the attack and Astor could see Zelda growing panicky.
Again, she gathered her power and the orb of light slammed into the mechanical monstrosity, staggering it, if only for the briefest moment before it resumed its attack.
Astor tore at the hem of his robe and wrapped the ragged scrap of dark fabric around Zelda's arm, staunching the flow of blood.
She met his gaze, and he saw a hopeless expression there.
And at once, all was completely silent again.
Distracted, the Harbinger had halted its efforts. With the machine's thrashing ceased, Astor could just make out the porcine grunts issuing from behind the Harbinger on the balcony. A second later, he caught a glimpse of the lumbering frames of two moblins.
The Harbinger made quick work of them, assimilating the beasts in a bid for more energy, more power, just as it had the soldiers back at the fort. They shrieked and struggled as the Harbinger broke their resistance, pitch-black Malice consuming their bodies as the mutated machine absorbed their life force as its own.
The mystery as to why the halls were so void of life solved, his stomach soured. He scrubbed his hands across his face, biting back a round of nervous laughter.
The Harbinger turned its attention back to them, slamming its broad arms back and forth through the opening with renewed vigor. The masonry that framed the entrance cracked further, the blades on its arms leaving groove marks.
As it was, The Harbinger couldn't reach them, though Astor could see the look of determination dawning on Zelda's face.
The Harbinger drew back, trying to reach them with its thinner front arms.
Keeping clear of the swinging blades, Astor rose to his feet. He held the sword he carried from Fort Hateno tightly in both hands, watching for an opportunity to attack. Anticipating the machine's next movement, he brought the sword down on one of its thin mechanical appendages, cutting it off crudely, followed by the other in quick succession.
The Harbinger bellowed in rage, retreating at last. Zelda looked at Astor numbly, and then their gaze settled on the glowing blue Sheikah weapons left behind, one resembling a pinwheel.
"Hylia, give me your strength… Mine is…fading," Zelda said in a thin voice.
"We should get you to safety."
"I'm ready to continue. That barrier isn't going anywhere until we find a solution. I must defeat Ganon… I will defeat Ganon…"
"You will…. Just, please Zelda, don't make me regret this..." He gathered her against him, allowing her to lean on him as they left the relative safety of the dining hall.
They crossed the balcony and went over a short bridge, a small waterfall that flowed into the castle's moat to their right. To their left was a dizzying view of Castle Town far below.
Further up the path, they were greeted with the view of the higher towers of the castle that still loomed above them. Two waterfalls flowed out of the cliff face and then joined again into one. The atmosphere and everything in it seemed to be bathed in the shadowy pink glow of malice.
They arrived at the second gatehouse, the interior walls caked in swaths of malice, lighting the space with a faint sickly glow. Astor came to a sudden stop in the doorway.
There…within the gatehouse…he sensed a certain skirmish unfolding on another plane of existence—another split in time.
Before them, two ghostly figures fought, the princess turning her light against his darkness. Their forms tangled and warped as they made contact.
"Astor?" Zelda paused, still leaning on him. "Why have we stopped?" She asked, her voice weary and anxious.
And the battle that played out before his eyes was so fierce.
"You wretched girl! I will sever your thread here!" The ephemeral Astor's voice echoed through his mind. His stomach twisted in shame.
The spectral Zelda's breathless, frustrated screams followed, filling him with a loathsome feeling.
She cursed the Blood Moon, the Blights, the monster hoards. All his doing in her mind.
He sent out a Hollow of the hero in cruel retribution.
They grew ragged fighting each other in that bitter struggle for the fate of Hyrule. A bloodless, but dire and toilsome battle of Malice against her divine hereditary power.
Her exasperated cries were growing hoarse as she lifted her hand to strike her opponent down, laving him with her light.
At last, the ephemeral Astor fled from his opponent. Had he too seen beyond the veil? Seen what could have been?
"It's nothing…." Astor responded finally, holding the Zelda he supported in his arms a little tighter as he helped her cross the gatehouse.
As soon as their feet met the brick path once again, the unmistakable blue glow of a Sheikah blade came down between them with sickening swift precision, taking them both by surprise.
Astor shoved Zelda out of the path of the oncoming blade and just barely managed to dodge away himself. Zelda landed badly, but slowly started to right herself.
About to help Zelda to her feet, Astor paused as he took in the state of the Harbinger. Its thin front arms were a mangled mess, sharp and broken off from their earlier encounter.
It did not direct its attention toward Zelda, and for that Astor was glad. Instead, the mutated machine rushed at him.
He jerked away, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow. But what remained of the Harbinger's severed metal arm had pierced him through the soft flesh where his chest and shoulder met. Astor clutched the thin spider-like rod as he was lifted, trying to pull himself free. It felt as though his shoulder was on the verge of being rent irreparably, the metal tearing excruciatingly upwards.
He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, only distantly aware of Zelda screaming out his name.
And then the Harbinger shuddered, letting out a roar of aggravation as Zelda's light tore through it. The ringing tones of her light resounded in Astor's ears. The Harbinger swiftly jerked its arm, dashing him against a brick wall that ran parallel to the path up to the Sanctum with ruthless force.
Zelda turned away, her hair flying wildly as she squeezed her eyes shut.
The sound of it shook her to stillness. Her bladder nearly let go.
Her breath hitched as she prepared herself to open her eyes.
Astor lay in a pile at the base of the brick wall.
Zelda could not breathe, could not move, waiting…praying he would show some sign of life.
For a moment she was back at Fort Hateno, reliving those awful moments before her father died.
It's happening again….Please, Hylia, not again…I can't…
Her thoughts were becoming an incomprehensible mess of despair. The Calamity had taken so much from her already.
The mechanical beast turned to her, its pulsing red eye staring into her, its remaining arms held out in a taunt. And her despair turned to abject hate, white-hot rage consuming her.
She set her gaze on the mutated machine that housed the spirit of Calamity Ganon, light blazing from the sacred mark on her hand. That ancient and immutable power radiated all around her, destruction in her eyes.