Chapter 48: The Illusory Realm

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The halls were nearly deserted as Link made his way down to the indoor training arena on the middle floor of the Royal Guard's Chamber, reserved for winter use. He passed only servants, busy tending to the castle and its inhabitants, preparing clothes and meals for when their noble masters awakened.

He had planned to spend the rest of the day practicing. But even keeping his word to Ronelda, and only performing the least strenuous of exercises and stretches, his limbs felt like melted butter by noon. Beyond that, it hadn't taken long for other Royal Guards to make their way to the training arena as well, and their stares and whispers made his stomach feel full of writhing worms. Throughout the hours he trained, their presence gnawed at his consciousness like mice, hard to notice at first but gradually building in intensity until he couldn't ignore them any longer. Wiping the sweat from his brow on his sleeve, he made his way carefully on shaking legs up the stairs away from the training arena.

It'll take weeks to get back into shape, he thought, scowling disgruntledly as he entered the adjoining hall. What am I supposed to do the rest of the day? Sleep?

He almost snorted. He'd had enough of lying in bed to last a century.

Rounding a corner and heading up another set of stairs, he emerged in one of the castle's main passages, decorated with thick, regal red carpeting stretching over the floor, and intricate paintings and tapestries adorning the walls. Almost at once he realized that the halls were no longer peacefully deserted. Groose and his brother, Garmish, were marching down the hall across from him, grinning and talking together. Link's heart stopped for a moment - they hadn't noticed him yet, but he felt cold sweat breaking out on his brow. Fists - chains - the Sheikah Slate -

His mouth dry, he feverishly cast his eyes in all directions, desperately searching for somewhere to hide - anywhere -

"Oh."

Link went rigid. Fighting to keep calm, he turned forward to face the two brothers head on. His heart stopped for a moment. "Good afternoon," he said curtly, taking a step forward as if to pass between them - and much to his surprise, they parted to let him through. His eyes widened and he stared at them, and they stared at him, their expressions unreadable, as he hesitantly continued past them down the hall.

Only when he heard the echo of their footsteps on the solid stone of the staircase fade away, after he reached the end of the hall, did the tension melt from his shoulders. That could have been so much worse, he thought with a shudder, drawing in a deep breath. He frowned, his brow furrowing, as he climbed a small flight of stairs and continued down the next corridor.

Why wasn't it?

They hadn't glared, they hadn't sneered, they hadn't called him names. They had just stared without any feeling whatsoever, neither benevolent nor hateful.

He gave himself a slight shake. Doesn't matter. It's too much to hope that they might've changed their opinion about me.

He looked around, biting his lip as he realized that he had no idea where he was going. And he still didn't have a plan for the rest of the day, for the long hours ahead of him before he could accept going back to bed. It's not like I'm confined to the infirmary anymore. I can get out and do things now - but I can't do what I'd like to do. So what in Din's name do I do?

Frustrated, he massaged his temples, muttering a curse on his weakened body. His legs were still aching, and he could feel an uncomfortable stiff sensation spreading along his back and shoulders. He felt lost; if Choice had been alive he would have spent this time with her. As it was he did not yet feel strong enough to visit the stables, see those familiar sights, smell those comforting smells, realize that for the first time in years she would not be there waiting for him…

"Are you just going to stand here, boy, or did you have a destination in mind?" a crisp, female voice rang out, and Link jumped, eyes flashing open.

It was the imposing Sheikah woman he had seen so many times before, now leaning against the wall in front of him, her crimson eyes burning. Link swallowed. "Lady Impa," he greeted her. "I wasn't - I didn't… notice you there."

A corner of her mouth twitched, the barest hint of a smile. "I would have been most impressed if you did," she sniffed, raising an eyebrow at him. "Now, answer the question. Where are you going, if indeed you are going somewhere?"

"I - nowhere," he answered truthfully, bashfully scratching the back of his neck. "I was - I was just… wandering."

"A rather pointless pastime," Impa pointed out. "As it so happens, I have been hoping for the chance to speak with you. There is much you need to know, and little time in which to learn."

Link squinted at her. "What do you mean?" he asked warily. "About what?"

"Many things," Impa answered cryptically. "But we shall begin with survival - yours, and the Princess.' Come with me."

She turned on her heel and strode off down the hall, her shoulders squared, without looking to see if he would follow. But her voice was not one that invited disobedience; Link hurried after her as she rounded a corner, biting back a wince at the burn in his legs. "Where are we going? And, er, what do I need to know about survival? I - I think I've handled myself alright -"

"You were lucky, nothing more," Impa interrupted. "You escaped by the skin of your teeth, just barely. The Yiga are getting craftier by the minute, and monsters are growing ever bolder. The next time you are confronted, you may not be within close distance to a place of refuge. Or you may not be so fortunate as to experience an entirely peaceful journey to someone capable of healing you. No - the forces of darkness grow ever stronger. And so must you."

She rounded a corner, heading straight across the small, ledge-like upper floor of the water pump room before turning smartly down the criss-crossing set of steep, rickety wooden stairs leading to the lowest level of the deep chamber, into misty, torchlit murkiness below. The lockup.

"What are you suggesting I do?" Link asked, struggling to keep an edge from his voice. It was almost impossible to believe that this cold, stern woman was related to someone like Purah - and he knew which of the sisters he was beginning to prefer. Nonetheless, she was just as intimidating as - if not more than - the General, so he fought to keep his voice calm.

"I suggest you allow me to impart my knowledge upon you," she offered grandly, turning to look down her nose at him. "We are called the Shadow Folk for a reason, boy. Under my hand you shall learn to become one with darkness, to melt away into nothingness in plain sight of your enemy, to avoid detection from anyone - and anything. Most importantly, you will learn how to hide the Princess as well." Her eyes narrowed, burning dangerously in the firelight, and her voice gained a hard, razor-sharp edge. "An ability I trust you will not misuse."

Link felt his cheeks flushing at the implications and shuffled his feet on the wooden stair, struggling to meet her gaze. "Of course," he promised.

"This way, then," she sighed, continuing down the staircase. "The King was kind enough to grant me space down here for our training. Damp, dark, moldy… truly a generous man. Evidently he could not spare any one of the multitude of guest bedrooms and drawing rooms scattered around here, but no matter - we shall make do. Regrettably I have very little time with which to instruct you -"

"How much time?" Link interrupted, a knot of stress building between his shoulder blades. "I - I'm sorry; it's just… I'm supposed to be back on duty by tomorrow."

"Not anymore," Impa answered testily. "I have an agreement with your captain and the King himself. As you are now, you wouldn't be much use as a guard. You are weak - you lost much of your strength while you were recuperating. The Princess is currently under the protection of several of my finest warriors.

"Now, as I said, we have little time," she continued. "A month, to be exact. However, you and the Princess will both be travelling to Kakariko Village shortly after that, at which point I will teach you whatever I do not get to in this time."

"Why are we going to Kakariko?" Link asked, frowning. No one bothered to tell me about that.

Impa fixed him in an icy glare. "You would be wise to keep your mouth shut about that. Not even the Princess has heard about this trip yet. No doubt once she receives greater detail, so will you. Now, I would ask that you refrain from asking any more questions. Time is short - I cannot stress that enough. You must pay attention."

They had reached the bottom of the stairs. The thick, ancient stone walls glistened beneath the light of the torches, dampened by the spray from the broad falls pouring down one side of the room. Link was surprised when the wetness continued even after they left the water pump room behind, delving deeper into the bleak confines of the lockup. He reached out and brushed a hand across a protruding brick, flinching back when he found it moist to the touch. We're underground. This must be from snowmelt.

He shuddered at the thought of being confined down here. As Impa led him down a corridor lined with empty cells and puddles of brackish water, he wondered, a chill dripping like a handful of snow down his spine, who or what could ever deserve to be held down here. But it's empty now, it seems… Apparently Rhoam's not completely merciless.

He winced; his back seemed to twinge at the mere thought.

Impa turned at the end of the corridor, passing through a small, gated holding area with a raised portcullis at the far end. Beyond was a large, cylindrical room with what appeared to be massive manacles hanging from the ceiling. Link's mouth went dry as he stared at them - What could possibly require manacles like that? And why in Din's name would it be kept here?

"Hinox," Impa growled, following his gaze. "Its bones line the walls. Legend holds that in the days of the Calamity ten thousand years ago, knights faced the Hinox held here in an attempt to win the favor of the Royal Family."

Link grimaced, trying to imagine facing such a colossal beast in a confined space like this. Evidently the past kings of Hyrule weren't particularly compassionate either. "How many died?"

Impa frowned at him. "That was ten thousand years ago, boy. There are legends that claim only the finest warriors survived, but regardless we did not come here to discuss myths - if you want that, see my sister. She'd be more than happy to -"

"Why don't you like her?" Link protested, overcoming his reservations about speaking his mind in front of her in the wake of his surprise at the cold anger darkening her voice. "I - I mean - Sheikah technology exists -"

"Yes, it exists," Impa answered crisply. "But I doubt it is truly capable of the fantastic deeds the old tales describe - bringing one back from the dead, for instance." She shook her head. "My sister disagrees, of course, but she is a fool. She refuses to accept the gravity of the situation we find ourselves in and irresponsibility spends her time frolicking about as if life is but a game."

"She helps everyone she mees find a reason to laugh," Link countered. "She doesn't want to waste what time we have gloomily waiting for the world to end!"

"You do not know of what you speak," Impa hissed. "It is much wiser to wait, to bide our time, to focus and work hard now to ensure future days in which we can bask in our victory. She must take greater responsibility, treat her research with the solemnity it deserves -"

"Who's to say we'll be victorious?" Link challenged. "There's no guarantee that we'll win. Personally I think it would be better to enjoy what time we have with those we love, than to save ourselves for a future that might not exist." His voice softened as he spoke, realizing that his words described himself - what he wished for from Choice, and his parents, and… That's exactly how my friendship with Zelda exists, too. I had decided that what time I do have with her was more precious than just doing what I was told and hoping things would be better in the future.

I had to make the choice to take charge of my own life.

Impa scowled at him. "I did not say that we should not enjoy our time with loved ones - but we that is not what we are here to discuss, Link," she warned, her voice dangerously soft. "You and my sister have your opinions. I have mine. We shall leave it at that."

Link's brow furrowed and he clenched his jaw, feeling slightly stung. You aren't listening. I was being serious.

Impa winced a little, as if realizing the bite in her words. "I… I believe we got off to a rather unfortunate start, Sir Link," she admitted, meeting his eyes unwaveringly. "I'm afraid I've been rather short-tempered with you - you must forgive me. Although it's no excuse, the increasingly present signs of the Calamity weigh heavily on my mind, making me rather unpleasant to be around. I assure you that it has nothing to do with you."

He blinked, surprised, and shrugged awkwardly, not sure what else to do.

Impa dipped her head in acknowledgement and continued. "I had imagined our first meeting to progress quite differently," she sighed. "What's done is done. But there are nonetheless a few things I would like to try and… to try again, I suppose." She stopped again, a slight crease appearing between her brows, and moistened her lips as she gathered her thoughts. "Ever since learning that the Master Sword had been drawn, I had hoped I would get the chance to meet its bearer. Not just anyone can earn the favor of the Goddesses, and I was eager to learn for myself who they chose this time around. I have been observing you carefully at every chance I have received, attempting to puzzle out just who the Goddesses had chosen this time."

Her voice softened, and the barest hint of a smile curled her thin lips ever so slightly upwards. "You, Sir Link, are a remarkable person. It takes true strength of character to endure what you have - and emerge with a heart that still feels. Despite what you might think by now, especially considering my relationship with my sister, I value the human in all of us."

Link blinked several times, taken aback and trying not to let it show. But he could feel his cheeks beginning to burn with self-conscious warmth and knew he must be blushing. I… I'd never expect… but she doesn't… and Purah...

"Now," Impa went on, turning away from him, "we'll be working on some combat skills, but my ultimate goal is to teach you, or attempt to teach you, some of the shadow magic of the Sheikah. I believe it would be of great use to you to know how to move silently through the shadows, how to hide yourself and the Princess from unfriendly eyes. There are tactical ways to go about this, of course, which requires correctly anticipating an enemy's course of action, and knowing what actions would or would not draw suspicion to yourself. Opening a closed door while hidden, for instance, would break the spell of concealment and give you away.

"You may not be capable of the spells I wish to teach you," Impa mused, cupping her chin and looking him up and down with a practiced, glaring red eye. "Hylians are not known for magical prowess. However, it's not impossible; our legends speak of the heroes of old, and the chosen vessel of the Goddess, both mastering some of the arcane arts. So you have a better chance than most at managing the spells I have in mind, but it's not guaranteed, and if you aren't quite getting there we'll change gears and focus solely on getting you back into shape. Any questions?"

Link bit his lip, contemplating. The Zonai were strong magic users – that's what Zelda said. And they… well, that's where I was found. Could that effect things here?

A drop of solid cold plopped into his stomach with a disconcerting thought. This shadow magic… won't be like what's going on in Thyphlo, will it?

He swallowed thickly. "Actually… I… I think I do." He met Impa's gaze, mustering his resolve. "Is this magic at all like… like Zonai magic?"

Impa blinked rapidly, her eyes widening. "Zonai magic?" she repeated. "How – how would you – oh. Of course. That is where you were found as a child, yes? Well, I'm not entirely certain – the Zonai were powerful magic users, but we know so little about them. So little about what, exactly, their magic entailed. You think the magic of Thyphlo may have… rubbed off on you?" She shook her head. "What exactly are you saying?"

Link bit his lip, asking himself the same question. "I… I don't really know how to explain, but it's… it's how I've trained for - for most of my life." He swallowed with difficulty, thinking about it, about the uneasy whispers of his comrades, of the fear in the eyes of his fellow prisoners. For a moment he felt his chest tighten, and his heart urged him to abandon course, ask Impa to forget he'd said anything at all, keep his abilities to himself forever.

But… well, if anyone else understands what it's like to be ostracized for… otherworldliness… I'd wager it's her.

He licked his lips nervously. "I… I sort of… take myself away. And - and I fight. I fight in my… memories."

Something flashed in Impa's eyes. "You take yourself away… into your memory? You're sure? And you've been doing it for several years?"

Baffled by her reaction, Link nodded slowly, his heart squeezing. Din curse it – this was a mistake; I shouldn't have said anything - "Y-yes. They were… they were nightmares first. Just about every night - very vivid. Janin found out and… and tried to get me to have nightmares… during the day, while training. It worked."

"Nightmares…" Impa murmured. "Memories… and they… train you…" She looked away, her eyes absently darting across the chamber. "It sounds like… but… it can't be…"

Perplexed, with curiosity tingling like sparks of lightning through his veins, Link took a subconscious step towards her. "What are you thinking?" he asked quickly, feeling his pulse pounding faster now for a reason other than fear.

Impa cast him a shrewd look. "It sounds like the Illusory Realm," she answered. "The ancient Sheikah left records describing it - a plane of existence that, while it exists in one's mind, is just as real as you and I right now. But it took - it took years of deep meditation for the Sheikah to enable themselves to access it…"

Link swallowed, pondering the sharp pain and lucid clarity of his dreams - of his training sessions.

Of his memories.

"Is it… is it because of what happened there?" he asked quietly.

"You're referring to Thyphlo Ruins?" Impa clarified. She studied him carefully, her brows deeply furrowed. "It could be what happened to you there. Or it could be where it happened."

Link's heart skipped a beat. "So it could have something to do with the Zonai?" he asked. "This is… some form of magic?"

Impa pursed her lips. "They were highly attuned to matters of spirit, specifically spiritual energies. Which is magic, of a sort, I suppose. Similar in principle to the magic the Princess possesses, or so we - the priests, sages, and Sheikah - theorize. The Zonai took to magic easily, a fact that the ancient Sheikah were always jealous of, and so they took great pride in their technological accomplishments - something they had that the Zonai did not.

"Anyway, accessing the Illusory Realm is something of a form of spirit magic," Impa continued. "The Zonai likely used it to train, much like you do. They were, according to the Sheikah, formidable warriors - nearly barbaric."

Link winced at the word, but Impa didn't seem to notice.

"The Sheikah were jealous of their skill," she went on, "and so worked to access the Illusory Realm for themselves. It took them years of prayer and meditation, but they succeeded. Their methods are what have inspired our advice to the Princess as well as her upcoming trip - she is not a Zonai, and nor were the ancient Sheikah. It's spirit magic that they're trying to perform, so we believe similar tactics will work. Without the Queen's guidance, it's the best we can do."

She shook her head, frowning heavily, and crossed her arms over her chest. "The extraordinary thing is that no one has accessed the Illusory Realm, that we have a record of, for ten thousand years. The secrets of how to access it died with the Zonai, and with the ancient monks of my tribe. And now here you are. The next hero. Apparently able to enter the Illusory Realm without any training, without even trying." Her lips twitched - almost a smile - and she shook her head again. "There is more to you, Sir Link, than meets the eye."

"Does that mean I'm a descendant of the Zonai?" Link asked, feeling a light bubble of excitement floating up through him. To think - me, my parents, with Zonai blood in our veins - to think we'd be related to the very people they spent their lives studying! And - and if the last hero was a Zonai…

Impa was studying him, her gaze cool and calculating. "Ten thousand years have passed. It's impossible to say. And the Zonai disappeared - we have no record of how, or when, they vanished. But there is clearly some sort of connection between you and the Zonai. My theory is that the magic remaining in Zonai ruins left an imprint on you. Perhaps because of your destiny as Hyrule's hero."

Link nodded slowly, unable to keep a sharp prick of disappointment from stinging his heart. "So… so it is the Illusory Realm, then?"

"It's the only explanation I can think of," Impa shrugged. "If you had been hallucinating, I do not believe you would have gained so much from your training there." She inhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over her face, and looked away from him, her gaze fixed on a distant torch. "I admit, I envy you. And so would many others, if they knew about this. For whatever reason, Zonai magic lives within you, which is rare indeed - if not unheard of."

Link shivered, shifting from one foot to another as wisps of his memories flitted through his mind. "You shouldn't," he whispered. "You shouldn't envy me because of this. You don't know what it's like - reliving those moments."

Impa's eyes glittered as she faced him again, cupping her chin in one hand. "I understand that it would be disturbing," she acknowledged with a curt nod. "And… I suppose I would be incapable of saying whether or not it would be worth it, since I have not experienced the trauma you've endured. But you cannot deny that the Illusory Realm has helped you hone your skills."

"That doesn't make it any better," Link protested, hearing his voice tremble. He gulped. "It's not just memories that I see. I didn't die in those ruins all those years ago, but when I return, through the Illusory Realm, I…" He swallowed again, painfully, feeling his shoulder sagging. Feeling the ghost of blood soaking his chest, the pain of getting impaled on the end of his enemies' blades - "I die," he managed at last. "Not every time, but… often enough. And - and then it's over, and I get to leave, but even so…" He shook his head slowly. "I'd… rather not go through that."

Impa's stern crimson gaze had softened as he spoke. "The Illusory Realm was known to provide insight and reflection," she murmured. With halting movements, as if unsure of herself, she moved her hand to rest lightly on his shoulder - the least graceful action Link had ever seen her perform, but an attempt at a comforting gesture, nonetheless. "You survived all those years ago, but it wasn't a victory. You lost something precious. And that loss is reflected now when you return." Her brow creased as a pained look settled over her features. "You experience your own death when you enter the Illusory Realm… I don't blame you for wanting it to stop. But I don't believe it will affect our training here - you're not fighting, and you're not…" She frowned heavily, raising an eyebrow. "How… how exactly do you enter the Illusory Realm usually?"

Link pressed his lips together. Not very pleasant memories. "I'd start by… clearing my mind, and then thinking about my nightmares. I tried to… to put myself back in that forest, remembering the fear…" He shivered. "And then when I opened my eyes, I was there. In Thyphlo Ruins. In… in the Illusory Realm." Absently he rubbed his arms, trying to stave off the sudden chill that gripped him.

Impa dipped her chin and tilted her head to the side, contemplating. "I would assume, then, that as the years passed you learned - subconsciously - to associate clearing your mind with entering the Illusory Realm. And, granted, I'd suspect the level of darkness here in this chamber is not entirely unlike the black cloud hanging over Thyphlo." She frowned, her brow creasing deeply. "So… the Illusory Realm may indeed interfere with our training here. The process of unlocking the magic in your soul is the same regardless of whether your goal is to visit the Illusory Realm or cast a simple spell of concealment."

Link nodded. "So how will we do this, then?" he asked quietly.

"With patience, and practice," Impa said. "I believe you will have to… unlearn this association you've developed. Don't give me that look - I don't believe such a task will be as difficult as it sounds. I have no doubt that, in order to win against your Captain, and against that monster horde, you must have been single-minded, with your focus clear. You know how to ignore the Illusory Realm - just not consciously. Not… not voluntarily. At will. On command." She drew in a long breath through her nose, squaring her shoulders with her hands on her hips. "So… that's as good as a place to start as any, I think. Empty your mind - empty it. Don't let thoughts of your past distract you."

Link swallowed. He turned his gaze to the empty cell surrounding them, sucking in a deep breath of musty air and trying to let it clear his thoughts. With his next breath, as his mind released its hold over him, he saw the familiar encroaching of blackness around the corners of his vision, felt the cell dimming around him, to be replaced, he knew, by the black forest of his nightmares -

"I can't," he blurted, surprising himself, his pulse racing. He backed away towards the wall. "I… I can't do that."

"Ground yourself," Impa urged quietly. "Find something to hold yourself here, in the waking world. Not a concise thought, but details. Scents… sights… sounds… sensations…"

He closed his eyes briefly before turning greater focus on the chamber around them. Large stones forming the walls, glistening and wet in the angry, spasming light of torches. The distant sound of water plunking into puddles. A slight draft, cold, hollow with the bite of winter seeping through the castle. The earthy musk of mold clinging to stone.

"How do you feel?" Impa murmured.

"Better," Link answered quietly. He managed a grim smile. Goddesses – either it's been so long since my last nightmare or training session, or it's getting to me more than it used to.

Impa nodded slowly. "Very well. Then let's try again. Perhaps, instead of going directly to emptiness, let your thoughts be gradually replaced by sensations, and then let that fade."

Link nodded and closed his eyes, breathing deeply, assessing the state of his soul. He became aware of the scrambled mess of his mind - lingering awe about his connection to the Zonai, slight aching confusion about the nature of the Illusory Realm, acrid hatred for Janin, and everything he had done…

He acknowledged the thoughts and feelings as they passed but did not linger on them, letting each of them, one by one, gleam for a moment in the forefront of his attention before dissipating entirely, leaving his mind blank. Empty, just as Impa instructed.

And with the emptiness came the familiar tug of shadows in the back of his mind. He knew what was supposed to come next - at least, what years of conditioning told him was supposed to come next. His heart pounded faster.

He fought it, turning his attention to his breath – a sensation, as Impa had suggested. The expansion of his lungs, swelling like a bullfrog's dewlap, stretching the particularly tender skin where Filo had stabbed him. The current of air travelling down the back of his throat, drying out the roof of his mouth. The slight tickle on his upper lip when he exhaled through his nose. His heartbeat returned to its usual steady pace.

And he felt the shadows receding. Peace and clarity returned to his mind, unhindered.

He opened his eyes and looked at Impa, offering a small nod.

She huffed loudly, rolling her eyes. "Why am I not surprised you succeeded so quickly?" she groaned, but her eyes were twinkling. "I am beginning to see why my tribe was jealous of the Zonai. Well, you'll have to keep working at it - practice helps with any skill, and we'll be doing a lot of that in order to teach you new ways to use that magic you possess. And in that case, we'd better be getting started – we've wasted enough time for one day, don't you think?"

"Wasted?" Link squinted at her, unable to determine whether or not she was serious. "I… don't think it was a waste of time." I've actually learned something that doesn't have to do with fighting - well, mostly. And… it was fascinating. I'd… I'd like to learn more - I wish there was more we knew about the Zonai that I could learn.

Impa's lip twitched - she was holding back a smile. "Flattery won't get you too far with me, young knight," she chuckled. "Let's get back to the task at hand. Time to see if we can use your magic for something less harmful to you."


Updated 7/8