Chapter 39: Frost and Blade
\-==/\==-/
The storm engulfed Central Hyrule with possessive intensity, as if attempting to make up for its tardiness with its ferocity. Within a few hours of Link's punishment, a thin blanket of snow about an inch deep had drifted down over Castle Town, throwing dark colors and shadows beneath overhangs into deep contrast with the pure white dusting the cobblestone roads and frosting rooftops. And thick flakes continued to fall, insistent on burying the kingdom beneath as much snow as the storm could muster.
As the day wore on, people stopped venturing outside, huddling in the warmth and safety of their homes. Daruk and the Gorons that accompanied him kept close to a roaring fireplace deep within the castle, lamenting the distance between them and their cozy volcanic home. Urbosa introduced her companions to fur-lined dresses very different from their traditional attire, and eventually convinced them to try them on, assuring them that in this weather more layers were essential.
Revali lounged on a long divan next to a tall window, watching snowflakes dancing slowly, steadily downwards. He focused on one at a time, his sharp eyes catching all of the minute details, as it twirled and tumbled until it fell out of sight. It was beautiful, calming… as if the entire world was holding its breath for a blissful moment of peace.
And the day continued, unchanging, veiled in white. Urbosa (with Purah's support and a slice of fruitcake) finally managed to convince Zelda to leave her silent vigil at Link's bedside and try to focus on cheerier matters. "He wouldn't want you to be moping around," Urbosa pointed out gently.
"And he's fast asleep," Purah added. "He'll be just fine on his own."
Her words held true, and Link remained in unfeeling unconsciousness, until the shadows began to deepen outside, warning of the oncoming night. Then his brow tightened, and he went rigid, his mind tormented by horrors.
\-==/\==-/
He was disoriented as thought returned to him. The forest was silent for once, and although there was darkness in almost every direction he could see light up ahead. Not knowing what else to do, he stepped towards it, hesitant hope curling around his soul. Is this a real dream, for once? Not a nightmare?
As he drew closer to the burning pinprick of light, he realized that it was the flames of a single torch raised just above his eye level, its position wavering slightly up and down, and from side to side, revealing that it wasn't fastened in place to a solid structure. Someone was holding it.
His heart froze with dread. He walked closer and felt something cold and hard in his hand; without looking he knew what it was - a lizalfos' boomerang. And with each step he took, the glaring orange light from the torch illuminated more and more of the forest floor, revealing grotesque corpses of bokoblins, lizalfos, moblins, lynels…
He knew what he would find when he reached the wielder of the torch, and he didn't want to see it. But his body was no longer his; he walked forward against his will, finally coming close enough to see the mangled bodies of two Hylians, glistening with fresh blood.
"You've failed."
A voice dripping with icy malice. He looked up, his heart leaping into his throat, at Captain Janin holding the torch in front of him, gaunt in the angry light drifting over him, his skin cast into sharp shifting shadow by the dancing flames. Suddenly something red glinted in his eyes and his face transformed into an ugly mask of vicious disgust and he threw his arm forward - "You've failed!"
Link leapt away just in time to avoid Janin's sword. "No," he gulped, his heart flying. "I didn't - I…"
"Really?" Janin snarled. He took a predatory step forward, his blade reflecting the flames, a sliver of molten rage. Link backed away, his heart lurching as his foot landed on a lizalfos' wrist, throwing him flailing off balance.
"You failed me," the Captain continued, advancing on him. "You failed your parents. You ran away from them and they died!"
Their screams echoed in his ears, much too loud, too real, and his eyes flashed open in shock. From the black forest beyond the circle of light from Janin's torch something stirred; something shifted in the shadows, bones creaking and something wet splatting to the ground. As they came fully into the light Link felt his heart seize up with terror as all the breath left his lungs.
It was the corpses of his parents, shambling slowly over the bodies of slain monsters. What remained of their eyes gazed out from within deep, sunken sockets, and their clothes were badly torn and bloodied, revealing torn flesh and organs beneath. Blood-matted hair clung to their skulls; once it had likely been a shade of tawny identical to his.
"No," Link croaked, taking an instinctive step back. Goddesses, not this! Please! His pulse raced in terror as the two corpses drew ever closer, staring at him with dull, soulless eyes.
"Perhaps you're the reason they're dead," Janin hissed from behind. "You killed all of your foes that night… If you hadn't run, perhaps you could have saved them."
Link felt cold and nauseous. He could feel himself trembling, could feel the terrified hammering of his heart desperately sending blood shooting through his veins. He stared with wide eyes as the corpses of his parents stopped just in front of him.
"You left us," they whispered, two snakelike voices speaking in unison, rushing through his mind, although their lips did not move. "You left us to die. We loved you… we loved you… and you left us…"
"No," Link protested shakily, tears pricking at his eyes. "I don't - I don't… remember…"
"We do," they responded, each taking another step forward. Link tried to back away and stumbled backwards over a lynel's body, falling roughly onto his back. "You left us when you could have saved us!"
"No!" he whimpered, something wet sliding down his cheek as his stomach burned with guilt. "Please; I was - I ..."
"Why do you protest?" Janin jeered, closing in. "You know that it's true. You feel it, deep down, don't you? Their deaths were your fault!"
"No!" he exclaimed, struggling to keep his voice steady. "I was - I was just a child; I didn't know what was going on! Th-they wouldn't have been in those ruins at all if not for you!"
Silence fell but for his ragged breaths. Then his parents' corpses faded, dissolving into dust before a slight breeze swept them away into nothingness.
"So you'll blame me, now?" Janin sounded truly hurt. "No matter, I suppose. Even if you didn't fail them, you failed me."
He lunged with his blade and Link scrambled away, pushing himself to his feet and holding out his boomerang defensively.
"I raised you, Link," Janin reminded him. "There were times when you felt like a son to me. Times when I prayed for your success not for my sake, but for yours!" He slashed his sword violently from side to side and Link jumped backwards again. "Times when I truly hoped for your safety!" Like a striking snake his blade leapt out for Link's throat. Instinctively Link whisked his boomerang up to block, catching Janin's sword in one of the grooves and sliding it aside. His pulse raced, his heart striking his ribcage with all the force of a battering ram.
"But now," the Captain continued, "now I feel none of that. You are nothing. Nothing but a disappointment, and a failure. Perhaps that is the lesson to be learned here - you are not enough, and never have been. You were not enough for your parents, you were not enough for me."
Red eyes sparked to life in the darkness beyond where the light of Janin's torch fell. "And you will not be enough for her, either," Link heard his own voice sneer, and his shadow stepped forward. "You will fail her if you falter."
Link watched wide-eyed, his breaths coming in desperate, pained spurts, as his shadow crept closer with a knife in his fist. Her? Meaning… meaning Zelda?
He couldn't run; his body was once again no longer his own to control. He could only stare, helpless, while his shadow drew nearer. At last they were mere inches apart, and the shadow touched the tip of his blade to his side, between two of his lowest ribs.
"Wake up, Link," he growled.
And then he plunged the knife through cloth and skin.
\-==/\==-/
He awakened with a startled gasp, only for his blood to freeze in his veins at the sight of a dark figure hovering over him. Adrenaline surged through him and he sprang from his bed, his hand closing around the lurker's throat, pinning them against the wall even as they screamed in terror.
Link jerked back in surprise, his heart hammering as he recognized the man in the light from the lone candle on his night table. "F-Filo? What in Din's name…"
His voice trailed away as he became aware of a sharp pain in his side, right where his shadow had stabbed him in the dream. Something wet was trickling down his side, and realization seeped into his mind as the pain did not fade away as it usually did after he woke up, but rather intensified. His mouth going dry, he looked down in horror to find the hilt of a knife protruding from his torso. Oh Goddesses…
He turned back to Filo, firmly grabbing a fistful of his tunic and shoving him again to the wall. "What are you doing?" he growled through clenched teeth, trying to sound as intimidating as possible despite the fear and confusion bouncing around his mind.
"D-d-don't kill me!" the bard whimpered, pressing himself back in terror as slowly he raised his empty hands. "P-please don't! Oh, Nayru above, she said you wouldn't wake up -"
"Did you just stab me?" Link asked, and when the bard nodded feebly he shook him slightly. "Why? What's going on?"
"I - I l-love her," the bard all but sobbed, sagging in Link's grasp. "B-but sh-she… she doesn't… you're the hero, and I'm… a coward…"
"Her? Who do you mean?" His shadow's words rang in his ears. You will fail her if you falter.
"Zelda," Filo sighed longingly. "Th-they… she… I j-just want her to… see me how she sees you…"
"So you try to kill me?" Link demanded, unable to keep the outrage from his voice. "Who's 'they?'"
"They said they'd help me," Filo gulped. His eyes were wide; even in the dim light of a single small candle lit on the nightstand Link could see their whites. "They set it all up - they said they'd let me save her and then I'd be her hero and everything would be just as I always wanted! And that healer said nothing would wake you up -"
"Save her?" Panic seized in his chest. "So she's in danger? Where is she? Tell me what's going on or I'll beat your brains out!" He doubted he would have the strength or willpower to follow through with such a threat, but he knew that Filo was terrified of him, and that was the only advantage he held at the moment.
"Th-the Yiga said that if I c-could kill you th-they'd let me save her, s-so I d-did this butIdidn'tknowyou'dwakeup! A-and now…"
Fear and anger swelled in his soul. "Traitor!" he exclaimed in disgust, letting the bard drop with a thump to the ground. "How could you trust them? They have nothing to lose and everything to gain - !" A twinge of pain stopped him and he grimaced, turning to let the meager candlelight fall on his injured side. He had been lying on his side and Filo stabbed straight down; the hilt of the blade formed a right angle with his torso. It had gone in between his two lowest ribs, low enough to miss his lungs, but it was buried up to the hilt, and he had no idea how long the blade was. How deep this goes.
He moistened his dry lips and turned back to the court bard snivelling in the corner. "Where is she?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Filo gulped. "Th-they're taking her to K-Karusa Valley," he stammered, shuddering in fear. "P-please don't kill me! Please!"
Coward, Link thought, revolted. "When did they leave? Were they on horseback?"
"Th-they left through the d-docks," Filo croaked. "F-following the R-Regencia River and then the T-Tamio River until it - it r-reaches th-the Cliffs of Ruvara! I - I was supposed to meet -"
"When did they leave?"
"P-perhaps half an hour ago," the petrified bard squeaked. "Th-they said I should w-wait -"
Link didn't waste another second. Inhaling deeply, he yanked the knife from his side with a sharp shout of pain, his head swimming as blood gushed from the newly opened wound. Clapping a hand over it, he stumbled to his wardrobe and dug out a roll of bandages, clumsily wrapping a long strip around his torso and tying it tightly in place. He snatched an undershirt and pulled it on without heeding the sharp pain of stretching torn skin all across his beaten body; he threw a cloak over his shoulders and shoved his feet into boots before snatching the Master Sword from beneath his bed and buckling it to his back as he hurried out of the door, wincing at the pressure his baldric placed on the sore, sensitive skin of his ravaged back.
He jogged to the Princess' room, his gut clenching when he saw the unconscious - or dead - guards outside. Pushing through the door he rushed to her bed, his stomach dropping as Filo' words were confirmed - she was gone.
Pressing both hands to his aching side, he shouldered the outside door in her room open, sucking in a startled gasp at the wave of icy cold air that hit him. Snow at least a foot deep buried the stairs leading down, along with the rest of the castle grounds, and he grimaced, reaching a shaking hand up to pull his cloak tighter around his shoulders. His shadow's words echoed in his mind, hardening his resolve: You will fail her if you falter.
Determined, he stepped into the deep snow, wincing as the cold crept through his boots and to his bones. He couldn't clearly tell where the steps were and so stumbled and slipped and flailed his way down the stairway, pulling painfully at the edges of the gash in his side and the freshly formed scabs on his back. Snow swirled in his face, half-blinding him; he held an arm out in front of him, squinting into the whirling whiteness.
He had never seen such a heavy snowstorm, not in all of his years at the castle. Although he thought he knew the place like the back of his own hand, the swirling flakes distorted everything he saw, confusing his senses, challenging his memory of the various paths. Goddesses, show me the way, he prayed. Help me get to her in time!
His pant legs were soon soaked through where his boots ended, and the wet material felt like it was somehow cutting into his skin. His cloak was also swiftly dampening as the heat from his body melted the flakes that landed on his head and shoulders, and blood had already seeped through the bandage around his middle. He grabbed at the wound, willing himself to ignore the pain and press onwards.
Closely following the castle wall he managed to find the stables and hurried inside, reveling for a moment in the soothing warmth. Clutching his side he dashed through the rows of stalls until he came to Choice; without wasting a second he threw open her door. No time for saddles or bridles. I've got to get moving!
"Sorry, girl," he mumbled through numb lips, guiding her out of her stall and towards the main doors. "But I need you - we don't have any time to waste!"
She blew out a heavy breath through her nostrils, half-turning her head to regard him with warm, loyal understanding. He patted her shoulder in gratitude before leaving her side to hold the door open for her; bravely she walked out into the storm. Link murmured one last prayer to the Goddesses before heaving himself up onto her back and nudging her sides with his heels, spurring her into a steady canter.
Wind whipped at his unprotected face as he huddled low on his horse's back, shivering violently. Knives of cold pricked at his arms and chest and stung his sore back; the skin beneath the stretch of his trousers soaked with melted snow felt raw. His lungs ached with each breath drawn of frozen air and his squinted eyes burned. Fresh pain shot through his gashed side with each of Choice's strides, further wearing down at his resolve.
They flurried through Castle Town, snow kicked up in the wake of Choice's hooves. The city was dark and lifeless; it was late enough on such an awful night that everyone was asleep. Perfect time for assassins to strike, he thought grimly, grunting in discomfort at a particularly harsh jolt of pain.
His heart lurched as they neared the massive archway built into the gate enclosing the town; the oaken doors were locked tightly shut. Cursing his stupidity he wheeled Choice around, bringing her westward along the wall, away from the tight cluster of business buildings and past the looser scattering of residences until they reached the smaller archway used primarily by quarry workers. There were no doors here, and the weather was bad enough that there were no guards. Link steered Choice straight through, to the vast plains beyond.
He clenched his teeth tightly to keep them from chattering. Gusts of wind lifted the most recent layer of snow from the ground, sending it blowing into Link's face, blinding him in tandem with the perpetual torrent of thick flakes dancing downwards from above. The world was a confusing expanse of white and shadow, the ground indistinguishable from the sky.
Link's heart squeezed with worry. Regencia River - I have to find it and follow it. We left Castle Town from the west, so if we head straight we should eventually hit it, right?
Nayru, guide me!
He hoped Choice had a better internal compass than he did with all of this snow. With one hand curled in thick strands of her mane, keeping him steady on her back, he cupped his other hand to his bloodied side, feeling sick as his warm blood met his frozen skin. I can't keep bleeding like this… but there's no time! If I falter, it'll be too late!
He ground the heel of his palm into the wound, doubling over in pain on Choice's back. His mind wavered and his balance faltered for a heart-stopping moment as he began to slip sideways from her shoulders; with a choked gasp he gripped her mane with both hands, holding on as tightly as he could manage until his mind stopped swimming.
He felt the ground begin to rise slightly beneath them and leaned forward, hoping it was Mount Gustaf. If it is, then we aren't too far off.
His face burned; his nose and ears in particular felt brittle, as if they could break off. He couldn't breathe through his nostrils; they sealed shut if his breaths were too deep, so instead he breathed through his mouth, panting heavily and groaning with each fresh wave of pain through his body. None of the images fed through his eyes made any sense; everything was white and swirling and cold, as if Choice were running through clouds. Choice… is she alright? he wondered tiredly, releasing her mane with one shaking hand to clumsily pat her shoulder.
"Good girl," he mumbled, his eyelids drooping. His back ached. The biting cold was everywhere, seeping through his now-damp undershirt to his skin beneath, burning and chafing. "Hurts," he croaked, his face twisting up in a grimace that he could barely feel. His head drooped on his shoulders but he maintained his grip on Choice's mane, clinging to the knowledge that his Princess was in danger. Can't… falter… can't… fall…
His bare hands ached down to the bones and he couldn't hold back a faint whimper. Why does everything hurt? In the darkness he could barely make out that they were very red, and seemed slightly swollen as well.
His mind drifted with the wind-blown snow; he could feel himself slipping away. No… Zelda… she's… the Yiga have… her… can't… fall… ter…
His side burned with pain. It was the only part of his body, or so it seemed, that wasn't frozen or freezing. Blood continued to soak through his shirt, although not as quickly as before; it was warm, much warmer than the rest of him. He pressed his hand against the wound once again, hissing at the pain but glorifying in the weak relief from the cold that it provided.
Howling winds tore at him, whipping his hair and cloak around him, burning his skin with cold so fierce it cut straight to his core. Goddesses, give me strength, he prayed, squinting into the tumbling storm. He couldn't feel the strands of Choice's mane in his hands anymore, and he was shivering so violently that he felt unbalanced by each of her long strides through the snow.
Blinded by flurries of snowflakes, neither of them saw the boulder until it was right in front of them. Instinctively Choice launched herself over it, leaping gracefully into the air; Link lost his balance with a startled cry and toppled sideways, falling into the snow and rolling helplessly down the hillside they had been ascending, every inch of his beaten, bloodied, frozen body pulsing with icy cold and pain. A thick stump mostly buried by snow halted him but he didn't get up - he couldn't. It was too much. The cold, the pain, his raw back against the rough bark of the stump, the snow surrounding him slowly melting into his clothes, introducing a deeper level of cold, something he hadn't thought possible…
It was too much.
But… Zelda…
With a pained groan he dug his burning bare hands into the snow, pushing himself to his feet, staggering slightly as he turned his bleary gaze at the storm surrounding him. Like a wraith Choice seemed to materialize before him, emerging from the swirl of storm and trotting towards him. He reached out for her and collapsed against her side when she reached him; slowly he dragged one arm over her shoulders and pulled himself onto her back.
He looked around, a thread of panic twisting around his heart as he realized he had no idea where they were. There was nothing in any direction save for thick white flakes falling and swirling and dancing, obscuring his vision. No… no, please! This can't be happening - I have to find her! Goddesses, please! Help me!
His pulse spiked in desperation and he looked around and around, tears stinging painfully in his chilled eyes as a wave of despair washed over him. Goddesses, no! This can't… this just can't…
It was hopeless from the beginning, he realized, his soul aching. Riding out into a blizzard was suicide. He was poorly equipped, injured, and now lost. I've failed. I've failed her.
A soft ringing sound, like the tinkling of bells, whispered in his ears. Surprised, he lifted his gaze, once more peering into the storm. What… What was that?
The ringing came again, from somewhere behind him, he turned Choice around, frowning, confused and unnerved. Am I… imagining things?
A third time the ringing met his ears, again from behind, accompanied by a slight vibration at his back. Wincing, he looked over his shoulder, following the sound, and felt a strange wave of certainty wash over him. It's the Master Sword.
With shaking hands he pulled the sacred blade from its sheath and gasped; it was glowing a sharp, pure blue, and pulsing faintly. On the wind he thought he heard a voice whispering to him. "Master…"
He recoiled as a sphere of light shot from the blades hilt and hovered in front of him; Choice whickered nervously, taking uncertain steps to the side, assuring him that he wasn't hallucinating. The light shifted, contorted, forming a very faint humanoid shape that seemed somehow female. "Master."
He swallowed thickly. "Who are you?" he asked shakily, his voice rough from the cold.
"It matters not. You need only know that I have served at your side in battle for well over a year now."
The Master Sword seemed to vibrate once again at his back and his mouth went dry as he remembered Zelda's words to him as they left the Shrine of Resurrection, so long ago now. The voice within the sword.
"Your fate and the fate of the Goddess' chosen vessel hang by a thread," the ethereal creature warned. "However, I can detect faint traces of her aura. I can lead you to her."
Link's heart lurched. "Yes," he gasped, unconsciously squeezing Choice's sides with his knees. "Yes, please!"
The spirit of the Master Sword did not respond but instead floated away from him, deeper into the storm. Link nudged Choice after it, the icy air and the pain of his wounds fading from his mind as adrenaline and hope surged instead through his blood. Heart racing, he urged her quickly into a pounding gallop, chasing desperately after the pale orb of light, following it blindly into the vortex of white flakes rushing all around.
Goddesses, please - don't let me be too late!
Updated 7/8
