Chapter 44: Fallen
\-==/\==-/
"People of Hyrule," Rhoam called out, his voice just as resonant as the bell high above the hall. "As was stated on the first of this year, the soldier Link is now required to prove his skill in battle in order to regain his position as Appointed Knight to the Princess of Hyrule." He scowled bitterly as he said it, no doubt wishing that Link didn't have this chance at all. "Should he fail, he shall be stripped of all titles and exiled to the Tabantha Tundra.
"Link of Thyphlo, you are hereby expected to meet your commander, Captain Cassius Janin of the Royal Guard, on the field of battle," the King continued. "As this is meant to be an examination of your skills, you are both to act as though you are on opposing sides, at war. You may use whatever means you deem necessary to find victory, while of course you are not permitted to kill each other. The battle will end when it is clear that one of the opponents would undoubtedly have been killed under the circumstances of a real battle.
"Take up your weapons, and your positions on opposite sides of the seal," Rhoam concluded, raising his hands high. "May Hylia bless the better man."
That was it - he would say no more. Link drew in another deep breath and unsheathed the Master Sword, walking forward to the edge of the seal to face Janin, who was now watching him with calm, confident disdain. The coldness in his gaze struck a chord in Link's soul, sending righteous anger reverberating through him, strengthening the determination he had felt after catching Zelda's eye.
You mocked all of my efforts on her behalf, he thought, and it was as if a feral beast, a hungry wolf, was rising within him. But I succeeded - Zelda doesn't want to push me away anymore. I'll fight with all of my strength to continue as her protector.
He took a step forward. Janin, across from him, mirrored his actions.
You belittled Choice - you thought her too soft to be a knight's steed, but she proved you wrong. She was more courageous than any nag you might've preferred. A painful wave of hollow, stinging loss crashed over his soul and he blinked against tears, but as he walked forward, pushed past the pain, he felt his grief strengthen his resolve, mixing with his anger as carbon and iron mixed to form steel.
He took another step forward, shifting his grip on the Master Sword's hilt.
And you had my parents killed. You as good as murdered them, and for what? To take me, and turn me into a weapon as cold and sharp as any blade.
He felt a sort of savage pleasure burning within him. Satisfaction.
Because Janin had failed, just as the General said.
I'm not just a weapon. I'm not cold. I'm not what you wanted me to be. You have no more control over me!
With a ferocious cry, as if overhearing his thoughts, Janin attacked, his blade swooping down towards Link's wrist. Link caught the blow on his sword and shifted, letting Janin's blade slide harmlessly down the length of his own.
Janin lifted his blade and turned to face him, bringing his sword down once again with brutal force. And again Link dodged, backpedalling out of reach and juking the opposite direction when Janin followed through with another vicious swing.
"Fight back, coward!" the Captain growled, his face still a cold, impassive mask.
Link didn't respond. Have to end this as quickly as I can.
He dashed aside from Janin's next blow and spun back around, making his first offensive move and striking out for the Captain's sword arm. Janin's sword met his with the solid crack of steel striking steel, with enough force to push Link back. His knees buckled and his heart lurched in a panic as he stumbled and fell.
A vicious leer twisted Janin's lips as he lunged with the speed of a striking snake coming in for the kill. Link rolled to the side and sprang to his feet, feeling a peculiar ache in his weakened limbs; a spasm of fear squeezed his heart.
I won't last for long. So I have to end this now, while I still have the strength.
Determined, he sprang towards Janin even as Janin ran to meet him. The Captain swung horizontally at his chest and Link thrust his sword upward at an angle. He blocked the Captain's blow on his crossguard while the tip of his blade rushed towards his throat, but Janin slid his sword free, jogging backwards out of reach.
Link didn't waste energy running after him; he waited as the Captain once again charged at him, slashing for his side. Link twisted to avoid the blow and a flash of pain shot through him - the action had tugged at the tender, stitched-up stab wound below his ribs.
Cold understanding rushed through him as he saw the smirk twisting Janin's lips. He knows! He knows I'm injured there!
With renewed determination, and no little desperation, he attacked again, tangling his blade in Janin's and attempting to twist it, to bend Janin's wrist in a way that would force him to drop the sword. Janin was too strong; he yanked his sword away with such force that he pulled Link off-balance and descended with a flurry of swift, hard blows while he had the advantage.
Link felt instinct take over, in the form of the raging beast that had taken up residence in his soul. He deflected each of the Captain's attacks as he regained his balance, and caught a brief glance of surprise in the older man's dark eyes. Link's back was stinging anew, his ravaged skin pulled in all the wrong directions as he moved, but it barely registered. Only one thing mattered now, and it wasn't pain.
He feinted left to dodge Janin's next blow but dashed to the right, spinning and landing a blow in the small of the Captain's back. Janin whirled around, teeth clenched, sword flying up for Link's throat. Link sidled away and lashed out again, striking Janin's gauntleted knuckles wrapped around the hilt of his sword, and the Captain recoiled with a short gasp, anger burning in his eyes as he pressed on again.
"You think you can win this, do you?" he sneered, initiating a fierce overhand blow that hissed as it tore the air, so furious that Link could almost feel the pain it would cause before it even had the chance to hit him.
He sidestepped, a drop of sweat tickling his brow, and slashed at the Captain's sword hand. Anticipating it, Janin angled his blade to block the blow and pushed back at Link's sword, trying again to off-balance him. Link took several steps backwards beneath the Captain's strength but did not stumble, though his arms and calves burned from the effort.
Pulling his sword away he lunged at Janin but missed as Janin shimmied to the side and delivered a solid blow to the wound in Link's side with the flat of his blade. Link clenched his teeth tightly together to keep from crying out, but the stinging flare of pain radiating up from the area was almost as intense as it had been when Filo first stabbed him.
His vision whirled for a terrifying moment. He caught a glimpse of cruel satisfaction in Janin's eyes as he bore down again and barely managed to lift his blade in time to protect himself.
Blinking rapidly, his side still burning, he swung at Janin again, the angry beast in his soul more ferocious than ever in the wake of the fear jolting through him, and the two swords met with a strident clatter, ringing out across the Sanctum. He staggered as Janin's blade smacked against his and Janin wasted no time swinging at him once more. Link barely managed to catch the bone-jarring blow on his sword and struggled to hold on as his fingers buzzed.
Janin attacked again, triumph already gleaming in his dark eyes. With his blade in one hand, he pushed against Link, and he hurled his other hand, curled into a fist, like a hammer into Link's side.
This time Link couldn't hold back a pained grunt as the fire in his side burned anew, white-hot and unyielding. Before he could regain his composure the Captain swung his blade around in a wide circle and caught Link's shoulder, driving him to the ground on his knees.
Adrenaline surged through his veins, like a lightning bolt of desperation, and he rolled to the side just as Janin's blade came down where he had been moments prior.
That would have been a killing blow, he was sure. And I'd have lost the battle. That can't happen!
He felt as if his hand had been glued to the hilt of his sword; somehow he hadn't lost his grip on it. Ignoring the strange mixture of hot and cold pain surrounding his wounded side and streaking across his back and shoulders, he lurched to his feet and lifted his sword in time to block Janin's swipe at his head, redirecting it to glide past his neck instead.
Heart racing Link feinted at Janin's chest before whipping his blade up and catching Janin's sword hand again, drawing a startled grunt from his lips.
"You've already lost, runt!" Janin spat nonetheless. Gripping his sword in both hands he struck savagely towards Link's injured side once more.
This time Link was ready. He sidestepped and clashed his blade against Janin's, knocking it off course, and swept his sword upward to slash towards Janin's heart.
The Captain jogged backwards, out of the way, and held his sword defensively in front of him, eyes narrow and calculating, waiting.
Link inhaled shakily, his blood pumping frightfully fast, fighting back a grimace at the accompanying flare of pain in his side. Sweat was making his many-layered uniform feel uncomfortably hot and damp and heavy, and he resisted the urge to tug at the mail around his neck.
He studied Janin anxiously, watching for some hint as to what he was planning, some sort of clue, some way for him to win, and soon.
Janin grew impatient and stepped forward, his blade biting once more towards Link's chest, and Link slid sideways, dodging for the umpteenth time. Sword flashing up, he deflected Janin's follow-up blow away from him and attempted to lunge, but his weary limbs could not muster enough strength and Janin swatted him aside as if he were no more than a pesky fly.
"That's all you've got?" Janin sneered, eyes burning coldly.
Blinking sweat from his eyes Link slashed out again, desperately throwing all of his weight behind his sword and managing to knock Janin's blade down for just a split second - his heart jumped at the moment of success and he swung out -
Janin recovered and grabbed Link's wrist before it made contact and threw Link forcefully to the ground. He landed on his back, the breath knocked from his lungs and little flames of stinging pain licking across his throbbing shoulder blades.
Janin's sword plunged down towards him. Link threw himself to the side, an electric jolt of desperation feeding him strength, and rolled beneath the blow and lurched to his knees, whipping his blade out with as much ferocity as he could manage as he came back up behind Janin, his blade catching the undersides of Janin's knees so that, already turning to face him, Janin teetered and stumbled half a step forward.
Link lunged at the Captain while he was still off-balance and rammed himself into his side, sending them both sprawling on the floor. Link scrambled forward away from Janin, his heart pounding harder and faster than ever.
Janin flipped onto his back and flung out his sword as if to block a blow that he thought would come, and Link kicked out at Janin's sword wrist while thrusting his blade down, held firmly in both hands, over Janin's throat.
Knocked away by Link's foot, Janin's blade lay discarded on the stone Triforce seal on the floor.
And Link, crouched behind Janin's head, felt a strange sort of lightness rising within him, even as post-adrenaline weakness wavered through his trembling limbs. He stared at the Master Sword, the edge of it right up against Janin's neck, and realized numbly that he had won. Goddesses above… I did it.
He didn't dare move. He didn't trust the Captain to just lie there, to follow the rules that the King had set forth. He couldn't move, not when he barely believed he really had won. So he crouched there on the Sanctum's floor, the edge of his blade against Janin's throat as Janin himself studied him with something akin to pride in his eyes. Link felt revolted by the sight.
"Well?" Janin grinned. Time had slowed to a standstill. The crowd gathered around the edge of the room, the Champions and the King and the Princess, did not exist.
"I didn't do this for you," Link growled. "And I didn't do it your way."
Janin's gaze hardened, and his grin swiftly melted away. "Fine," he muttered.
As if the word were a spell, the world stirred to life once more. "The victor - Sir Link, of Thyphlo," King Rhoam called out, rising to his feet with his hands spread wide.
A whoop went up from the Champion's Hall - "That's the way, little guy!" Daruk cheered, clapping his massive hands together. And slowly, like a slow smattering of raindrops building up to a pounding deluge, a storm of applause arose from the audience. Link felt a strange jolt deep in his chest, and at last he dared take his eyes away from Janin.
Throughout the Sanctum, the crowd that had gathered to watch his battle were clapping enthusiastically. Everywhere he looked, people were grinning at him. A few were even excitedly throwing their fists up into the air. Someone whistled loudly in approval, and somewhere off to the side of the seal he heard a hearty cheer that was quickly taken up by others across the room. Only the nobles, tapping their fingers together disgruntledly, and the gathered knights and the King himself seemed displeased.
In fact, though Rhoam had of course sounded perfectly polite in announcing Link's victory, his brows were drawn together and his lips turned down in a fierce scowl that, or so it seemed, he wasn't even trying to hide. Link quickly looked away, to the Princess at her father's side, and his heart seemed to do a flip. She was positively beaming, clapping wildly with the rest of the crowd. And the General, standing beside her, was politely applauding with considerably less delight, but upon catching Link's eye he gave a slight nod, a small approving smile twisting his scarred features.
The Captain stood, his expression carefully schooled into a neutral mask, while his eyes burned with fresh malice. Link quickly pushed himself to his feet as well, sucking in a sharp breath as specks of darkness clouded over his vision for several unnerving moments, his blood rushing loudly through his ears and his head aching. He went still, hoping against hope that he wouldn't faint - Not in front of everyone! Not after I just won!
And relieved though he was as his eyesight steadily returned to normal, he realized as his limbs trembled that he was not out of danger just yet. The Master Sword slipped from his fingers and landed with a clatter on the ground, the sound masked by the petering cheers and the low buzz of conversation rising up from the crowd. I'm still weak. And I just asked my body to do something it shouldn't have been capable of. His gashed side was burning with fresh, stinging pain, as was his back. Though drenched in sweat, he was beginning to feel cold and slightly nauseous, and his shaking legs felt so feeble that he didn't want to take a step forward. His eyelids seemed to have leaden weights attached to them, dragging them down; he felt exhausted.
A firm hand clapped down on his shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. He glanced up in surprise to see that the General had made his way down towards him and was now gently turning him in the direction of the grand doors leading out of the Sanctum.
"I need you to hold on for a little longer," the General muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "It would do no good for you to collapse here. Stay strong for just a bit longer."
Link nodded weakly, forcing his weary legs to move and carry him away from Janin, away from the angry King and from Zelda, past the knights on either side of the doors and then through them into the majestic arched corridor beyond.
I… beat Janin, he thought groggily, and a brief rush of euphoria raged through his blood, burning with a strange sense of justice. He almost smiled - the urge was nearly irresistible.
And yet the notion that he could have won against the Captain was painfully surreal, like something from a dream. A good dream, not a nightmare, of course… and the way his weary mind wavered, it seemed more than likely that he had hallucinated everything.
"You did well," the General said, breaking him from his thoughts, anchoring him to reality. "I'm glad you decided to make it through that."
Link glanced up at him blearily. The General wasn't looking at him, steering him purposefully through the castle halls, and Link realized that they had already passed his room. "Sir… where…?" Breathless from the fight, he was nonetheless startled that he couldn't muster the strength to say anything more.
"The infirmary," the General muttered, his brow creasing and lips tightening. "Keep your eyes up, lad. It's just a bit farther."
Link was beginning to realize that there was something unnatural about the coldness seeping through his bones, about the dampness of his clothes against his skin, in the shortness of his breath. His side was hurting worse and worse, and he found it difficult to keep his eyes focused ahead as the General had ordered. His feet dragged on the floor; he wondered, if the General hadn't been holding him up by his shoulder, if his trembling limbs would have supported him.
And even with the General's help, he only managed a few more steps before his legs gave out entirely and he crumpled, curling irrepressibly around his injured side, wondering why in Din's name it was hurting so much. The General quickly bent down and gripped his shoulders again, pulling him to his feet and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, all but entirely bearing his weight. Link tried to get his legs to move, but they were trembling so badly that they might as well have been made of jelly.
"Almost there," the General encouraged him, but there was an undertone of anxiety lacing his calm voice. Link felt that same anxiety bleed into his soul. If he's worried, then something must be really wrong, he thought grimly. He almost laughed. Well, obviously something's wrong. He felt awful.
A wave of relief melted over him as the infirmary's simple set of square double doors came into view as they rounded the next corner. The General marched closer and raised his free hand to push the door open, only for it to swing open before he got the chance, revealing Ronelda standing in the entryway, her usual scowl in place.
Her dark eyes danced over Link's boneless form and her eyebrow twitched. "I had hoped that the worst I'd see today were a few cracked ribs. Get him in here."
The General nodded curtly, and Link leaned heavily against him as they walked towards the nearest bed. He managed to sit down without the General's assistance and leaned wearily back against the headboard, looking down in concern at his torso, concealed by his crimson shirt over chainmail. With a jolt he realized that the fabric just above his wounded side was a slight shade darker than the rest.
"Can you undress yourself?" the General asked, but Ronelda rolled her eyes.
"You're not moving an inch unless I tell you to," she ordered, pushing up her sleeves and reaching for Link's baldric.
"I don't think -" Link protested, his face burning anew with self-consciousness, but the General interrupted.
"He can move his arms, at least," he said irritably. "Let him do what he can, and I'll help where necessary."
Ronelda set her jaw stubbornly and shook her head. "Fine," she huffed. "Do what you will. Foolish men…" She bustled away to the cupboard by the door, opening drawers and pulling out bandages and bottles of elixirs.
In the end he only needed the General's help in removing his chainmail; he managed to remove the rest on his own. And when he pulled away his sodden undershirt he realized, with a shudder, what had made the General worried, and why he had been feeling so weak and cold.
It was soaked, not with sweat, but with blood. Blood that even now oozed from the stab wound in his side, painting his skin crimson, dripping onto the white bedsheets beneath him.
He winced and looked away, scanning his memory of his battle with Janin. He hit it a couple of times, didn't he? And all the twisting I did to dodge him… it can't have been the least bit helpful… There was no telling exactly when or how the stitches had burst, he decided. It was sufficient enough to know that somewhere over the course of the battle the wound had torn open again, and that Janin's pummeling had encouraged it to bleed anew. He could feel a peculiar dripping sensation down his back as well and wondered if he'd torn some of the whiplashes there.
Ronelda returned, and her eyes narrowed as she studied the wound in his side. "Where'd you get this?" she asked sharply. "Rhoam assured me you wouldn't actually be trying to hurt each other, less work for me… well, spill it, boy!"
Link felt a sick feeling settling in his stomach that had nothing to do with the pain in his side. It had been a nightmarish night - one that he didn't want to relive in any way. "It was…" He frowned, curling a fist around the bedsheets with his left hand. Filo is Zelda's friend. Do I say it was him? What would happen to him? "It was a… Yiga assassin. He drove a knife into my side while I was asleep, the night… the night the Princess was kidnapped."
"A Yiga knife," Ronelda repeated with a shudder. "Probably poisoned, then. I'd bet my life they used some type of snake venom or leech saliva to thin out your blood, keep it from coagulating…"
"Hold on a moment, Link." The General's eyes were hard. "If you're feeling up to telling us what happened - well, I'd hoped to give you more time - but you shouldn't have to go through it twice… better to get it all over with at once… save your strength…" His brows pressed together. "Alright. I'm going to fetch the King."
He stood up to leave, and Link's heart sank. Facing the angry King and his 'interrogation' was the last thing he wanted to do, and the prospect of reliving that awful night felt terrifying. His pulse hammered harder in his throat, and he stared intently at the stone ceiling and the wooden beams running across it; he traced the wood grains with his gaze, trying to force his thoughts away from what had happened. After speaking with the General and Thrangus before his fight with Janin, he had reached a tentative state of peace; if he started thinking too much about that night, he didn't know if he could maintain his grasp on that feeling.
Goddesses, how has it come to this? Everything turned sour so fast… I can barely comprehend it all. Just days ago he had told Zelda the depth of his feelings. Then he had learned the despicable truth about what happened to his parents. And then his punishment, and Filo's attack, and…
"I'm sorry," the General said again, pulling him out of his thoughts. There was a knowing look in his eyes, and Link realized that his rising panic had not gone unnoticed. "I had convinced the King to wait for a few hours after the match, give you time to rest, prepare yourself… but that new information - the knife and its poison -" He shook his head, scowling, and strode towards the doors. "You'll understand in time. Keep him awake," he added, glancing back at Ronelda, and then he was gone, letting the heavy wooden doors thud shut behind him.
Link stared after the General, his insides twisting nauseatingly together. How much will I have to say? The knots within him tightened, and he bit his lip, hard, fighting the empty ache in his soul. Will I… will I have to talk about how Choice -
Unpleasant contact around his stabbed side interrupted his thoughts and he grimaced, looking down to see Ronelda vigorously cleaning the blood from his skin. "Giving orders to me in my infirmary," she muttered crossly, shaking her head. "Should head down to the barracks and start bossing those soldiers around… See how he likes that."
Updated 7/8
