The Legacy of Myriad
Book Three:
Heart of Courage
Author's Note
This is the final book in The Legacy of Myriad Series, and I wanted to give everyone a huge thank you for all the comments, kudos, bookmarks, shares, and whatever else you may have given! It's been a rough year for all of us, and I've had trouble that's made it difficult to write as often as I prefer. But at the end of the day, all I really hope is that these stories might provide some form of entertainment for everyone, or just a distraction from everyday life!
If you haven't read Mark of Wisdom or Rise of Power, you may need to check them out before digging into this story, otherwise you'll be a bit lost! In the meantime, if anyone has any questions or comments, please feel free to drop me a note, or just leave them as a review!
GieGie
In Loving Memory
Debbie P.
1982-2018
Prologue
Dragmire had gone too far, and Myriad feared it was already too late to stop him.
Traversing the corridors of Hyrule Palace, the Sage of Light ignored the lavish décor set up by Nissandra. The Queen's tastes were certainly inviting, reflecting a sense of elegance combined with enough personable touches to make the royal dwelling welcoming. But at present, Myriad's mood was as stormy as the evening sky, and nothing was going to change it.
Ascending a set of stairs, she turned down another hallway, the white material of her ornate robe brushing the floor with each determined step she took. Just ahead was a set of double doors to the royal library, and she pushed them open with enough force to cause a loud thud to echo throughout the large chamber.
Inside, the numerous shelves and statues depicting various historical figures were dim, the gray light of a cloudy evening offering little along the lines of illumination. Yet a brief flash of lightning coming in through the tall, vaulted window opposite the entryway was enough to reveal the currently desolate state of the library.
Still, the sound of a page being turned hit Myriad's ears, and she immediately followed it to a spot between two tall bookshelves. There, standing in the aisle with a small tome in his hand, was Dragmire.
Dressed in a set of finely tailored black robes sporting a high collar, his hair and neatly trimmed beard was the same color as his clothing. As a result, his skin appeared starkly pale in the dim light despite the fiery orange hue cast upon him by the candelabras hanging from the ceiling.
As Myriad rounded the corner, he casually lifted his head from the book he'd been reading and pinned her with a set of onyx eyes that only enhanced his foreboding visage.
Myriad's own bright clothing and long, golden blonde hair stood in stark contrast—he nearly felt the need to squint when gazing upon her. If it weren't for the stern look in her sapphire eyes which had replaced her usual warm smile, he might have done just that.
Instead, he returned his attention to his book and greeted her with a halfhearted, "Myriad." Turning another page, the dark mage added, "I didn't expect to see you here."
The flippant acknowledgment of her presence straightened her shoulders as she crossed her arms over her chest and responded with the same attitude. "And I didn't expect you to be so obtuse, but here we are. Did you really think I wouldn't confront you the moment I learned the truth of what you've done?"
Dragmire's rings glinted against the candlelight as his finger traced a line on the page with the idle question, "Just what did I do, Myriad?"
Sneering, the Sage of Light stood statuesque, refusing to answer his question until she had his complete attention—and Dragmire knew her well enough to realize it. So he finally exhaled low and removed his hand from the book before turning to face her with annoyance in his gaze.
Ignoring his irritation, Myriad finally answered, "You used your magics to control the minds of the King and Queen. They just birthed a daughter three days ago, yet now they have a son?"
As her angered words echoed throughout the library, Dragmire pursed his lips and motioned a casual hand with the words, "It was a slight miscalculation on their parts, my lady. There's no need for anger."
"A miscalculation?" Myriad repeated in utter disbelief. "No need for anger?" With each word, her fists balled more tightly.
Seeing the anger in her eyes, Dragmire scoffed. "Come now, Myriad, don't play the wounded party. You knew what was coming, and now you're misdirecting your anger at me when your own lack of involvement is to blame. Had you truly been concerned about my affairs, perhaps you should've investigated more thoroughly instead of leaving on missionary work for so long."
A silence ensued his statements during which Myriad couldn't decide which was greater—her disbelief, or her anger. Each word Dragmire spoke had her ire growing so potent she could feel her power brimming in her palms. Thankfully, her hands were clenched into fists, hiding the occurrence, otherwise the dark mage would've attempted to taunt her into a fight.
And she was already a single step away from initiating it no matter the odds.
Thoughts of her infant son emerged as he was the true reason for her lack of involvement in Dragmire's affairs. Just last night, he'd been taken from the palace with the Princess, and the loss alone was enough to fuel her rage, to say nothing for the insinuation that becoming a mother had in any way impeded her ability to aid the kingdom and keep the man she'd once called a friend in check.
Of course, Dragmire didn't know that—his belief that she'd spent time doing missionary work was a ruse designed to hide her pregnancy. Instead of traveling on a mission of goodwill, she'd hidden in the Temple of Time to protect her unborn child, and even after his birth, her focus had been on protecting both her son and those she cared about without alerting Dragmire of her intentions.
So perhaps, in a roundabout way, he was right. Her pregnancy left her incapable of ensuring he wasn't causing trouble, and she had no idea what he was planning because of it.
Yet she did know a confrontation here and now wasn't the answer.
Despite the fact that they were equally skilled in the magic arts, Myriad was outmatched where raw power was concerned. Dragmire had stolen all of the Sage Essences with the exception of her own, meaning he could overpower her, and even if he didn't, he was likely to twist an engagement around to make himself look like the victim.
So she had to conduct herself carefully, which meant forcing her mind from her lost son for the moment and focusing on the matters at hand.
Still, she passed on a warning.
"Heed my words, Dragmire. Whatever your ultimate goal may be, the harder you clench your grasping fists, the farther it will slip away from you. I'll see to it personally."
Turning away from the dark mage, she started for the door, but only took two steps when Dragmire asked, "Don't you find it somewhat curious that I've set up my son to become the leader of this fine kingdom instead of attempting to take the throne for myself?"
Coming to a stop, Myriad turned her head as the sound of his footsteps hit her ears followed by the words, "After all, I could have simply killed the King and Queen in some elaborate plot to take control."
As he stepped around into her line of sight, Myriad asked, "What are you getting at, Dragmire? Are you saying your treachery was intended to obtain some form of security for your son while you seek out whatever it is you truly want? Because I sincerely doubt you'd attempt to convince me of all people that you actually harbor some surreptitiously modest nature."
Smirking as if he found the suggestion just as ridiculous as she did, Dragmire wordlessly lifted his arm to offer the book in his hand.
Yet Myriad didn't look at it, holding his gaze evenly until he finally stated, "If you're so curious about what I truly want, then see for yourself."
Exhaling a sharp breath through her nose, Myriad snatched the book to examine the pages, and a single glance was all it took. At the center of the left was a drawing of perhaps the most recognizable symbol in all of Hyrule.
The Triforce.
Only the grace of the Goddesses allowed her to mask the dread evoked by the discovery. If Dragmire spied any hint of concern on her face as she gazed upon the trio of triangles he'd just named as his true desire, it would only be taken as a sign that she knew he could actually accomplish his goal of acquiring the sacred relic.
The fact that he was even considering the attempt was bad enough—and she had no intentions of feeding his confidence in accomplishing such a feat.
Instead, she assumed a dismissive mien while thrusting the book back into his hand with a scoff.
"If it's the Triforce you seek, you will surely fail."
Taking the book, he held it up while relating, "There's no denying the majority of the populace possessing even a modest education in history and lore would agree with you. After all, it's common knowledge that the unworthy could not harness a fully assembled Triforce."
More pointedly, he concluded, "Anyonewho touches it would find two pieces slipping from their grasp."
As he spoke, Myriad folded her arms across her chest and canted her head with a single arched brow. "Why Dragmire, perhaps I was wrong and you do harbor a modest nature after all. Here I thought you'd consider yourself worthy at the very least. Color me shocked."
Her bland tone curved his lips into a smirk, though he responded in all seriousness, "We're speaking in terms of worth according to the three Goddesses, Myriad. Who would be worthy?"
Myriad shook her head and waved a hand, retorting, "You're telling the story, Dragmire, so do what any author would do best and improvise. You tell me, who would be worthy?"
"Absolutely no one," he returned with a lift of his chin to emphasize the point, adding thoughtfully, "or at least, no one possessing the lackluster characteristics of this world."
Somehow, his calm, calculating demeanor reminded Myriad of the man she used to know before he'd called forth the dark powers of the Sacred Realm. Back then, he'd always displayed a rational kind of reasoning during their magic studies that she'd admired, but allowing herself to think this was the same person was dangerous.
Thankfully, the hole left in her heart after sending her only child away for safety made it easy to remember what kind of man he was now, though she kept her knowledge of his habits in mind as he asked a pertinent question.
"Tell me, my one time friend, do you believe it was fate that the Sacred Realm gifted you with powers the exact opposite of mine in nature the moment I summoned forth my own?"
Despite her uncertainty over his reason for asking, Myriad admitted, "Yes, I do believe it was fate. You and I were both ahead of our peers in skill, both favored by the scholars and masters of our crafts. Why do you ask?"
As if glad for her question, Dragmire related, "Because we're in the same position despite the friction between us. You're just as ready to grasp at power to undo the things I've done as I am to be rid of your constant meddling in my affairs."
"The point emerges," Myriad returned simply, playing to his expectations by stating, "and I'm not happy knowing we still have anything in common, but humor me. Are you suggesting I might assist you in acquiring the Triforce because it would provide me an opportunity to harness a piece for myself which could ultimately destroy you? Even if I believed it would work, do you truly think I'd do such a thing?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," Dragmire returned, walking around to stand at her side where he related, "because you're a woman of intelligence, and you know an opportunity when you see one. Even if you couldn't possess the whole relic intact, a single piece would empower you, and you need that power even more than I—and we're the only two people who can open the Sacred Realm to retrieve it."
Still facing forward, Myriad arched a brow in thought over the proposal—and Dragmire was right. Their powers combined could open the Sacred Realm, and her failure to realize what he'd done to Hyrule's Sages left their essences in his hands. So possessing a part of the Triforce could indeed be beneficial in an attempt to defeat him.
Whether fate allowed her to harness Power, Wisdom, or Courage—and she'd wager the second of the three—it would tip the scales.
A tempting prospect.
It simply wasn't tempting enough.
Despite realizing the potential in harnessing a piece of the Triforce, Myriad also knew Dragmire's game. He needed her, and implying she would have a chance to overcome him was but a means of coercing her to do what he wanted. Even if she obtained a piece of the relic, there was no guarantee he wouldn't find some means of controlling her, possibly by using the leverage of her loved ones, or the kingdom itself.
And the prospect had her wondering what choice there truly was.
As if reading her thoughts, Dragmire stated, "You realize there is no other way."
Drawn back to the present, Myriad's lips pursed into a thin line as she turned to face him with determination in her sapphire eyes, retorting, "I realize you want something that is not meant for any single person to possess for it belongs to all people, and if I assist you, the blood of this kingdom will flow over the fields like a dye, staining it for generations. I realize, Dragmire, that I am short on options in defending what I hold most dear, and I cannot bargain whether I wish to do this or not."
Taking a deep breath, she concluded, "So congratulations are in order. You've manipulated the circumstances and maneuvered the pieces with a skill I'm sure any egotistical, power hungry tyrant would admire. Now all that remains to be seen is how long it will take your ill-gained power to choke you."
Though she'd spoken with the utmost sincerity, Dragmire smirked, regarding her as if to size her up before replying, "I'm not a sentimental man, and yet I do regret that we're now at odds. Still, your blind devotion to king, queen, and country has left you small, Myriad. Were you able to consider something greater, you wouldn't hesitate to agree."
"And were you not so blindly devoted to power, you'd see that your pursuit of it is about to lead you right off a cliff."
"There's the wit I've always admired," Dragmire remarked as he turned to place the book upon a nearby table and concluded, "As far as those that matter are concerned, my son is now the legitimate Prince of Hyrule, and there's no amount of tampering you can do that will change the story, at least, not in time to stop the inevitable. So plot and plan all you like, Myriad, but consider the situation carefully while you're doing it. After all, if devotion has blinded us both … ."
Trailing, he turned his face to regard Myriad from the corner of his eyes and stated ominously, "The question is just how dark do you want things to become?"
Departing with his words punctuated by a low rumble of thunder, Myriad couldn't deny the warning in his tone, her gaze sinking to the book he'd left upon the table. The image of the Triforce upon the page demanded her focus, feeding her utter regret to know he was right.
The damage had been done, and her only recourse was minimizing the effects.
At the thought, Myriad spun around to exit the library as swiftly as possible. Gathering her robes in hand to prevent a fall, she made her way to the tower stairs and nearly took them two at a time. Rounding the corner at the top, she rushed toward the doors of her personal chamber, ready to throw them open and slam them shut again.
Just before she had the chance, someone barred her path, grasping her upper arms as she nearly bumped into them. Yet her desire to be alone was so great she didn't recognize who it was until he asked her name.
"Myriad?"
The sound of Lyonel's voice broke through her frenzy, and she finally looked up into her husband's eyes. Somehow, their clear blue color centered her despite the concern she could so clearly see, allowing her to breathe for what felt like the first time since she'd left the library.
In turn, Lyonel spied trepidation in his wife's gaze, proving something was wrong—not that the way she'd rushed to the door wasn't an indication in itself. His wife wasn't prone to irrational displays, and he wasted no time latching an arm around her shoulders before opening the door to lead her inside where they could speak alone.
Locking it once shut, he turned to face his wife and asked, "What happened, love?"
Still panting from her run, Myriad answered, "It's Dragmire. He's … ."
When she trailed, Lyonel lifted a hand to her cheek and shook his head, urging, "He's what?"
As her gaze slowly lifted to meet his, she whispered, "He's after the Triforce, and wants to use our powers to open the Sacred Realm and retrieve it."
"What?" Lyonel asked, uncertain how to respond. The Triforce? The very idea was ludicrous, and yet he knew Dragmire's lust for power was quite possibly unmatched.
So ludicrous or not, his interest in the sacred relic was dangerous.
Making matters worse, Myriad exhaled and asked in all seriousness, "Tell me, Lyonel, what choice do I have? How can I deny him knowing what he could do in retaliation?"
Shaking his head, Lyonel insisted, "Myriad, there's no question to this. The Triforce of the Goddesses? He's insane to even consider such a thing, or to believe you'd help him for any reason."
"No, I know that," she returned, clutching his arms more tightly with the words, "and he believes I'd do it for the chance to obtain a piece that might provide enough power to overcome him. Yet I've no wish to harness any part of the relic, even to undo what he has done."
Exhaling low, she added morosely, "But even if I don't assist him, he'll find a way to get what he wants, and we'll be worse off than before. But we've already sacrificed so much, Lyonel. We've given up our … ."
She couldn't say it, the urge to cry choking her—and resisting was a lost cause. The mere thought of her only child was enough to wrench the tears from her eyes, and she stepped in, clutching her husband tight with her outpouring of grief.
"I want him back, Lyonel! I want to hold our baby again, just one more time."
Eyes squeezed shut as she sobbed, she could still see Link's tiny face so clearly, her arms aching to feel his warmth within them and the softness of his cheek against her shoulder as he slumbered so peacefully. My little love … .
Lyonel clutched her tighter in response, shedding his own tears over their loss. He longed for their son just as much—but if Myriad assisted Dragmire, giving Link up for his safety would become pointless.
After spending a few moments hugging his wife and waiting for her sobs to quieten enough to speak, he related that very thing.
"Myriad, we gave Link into Impa's care just last eve. You're still grieving, not only for our son but also for the King and Queen. But Link is safe, and his absence is making everything seem more hopeless than it actually is, my love. Dragmire doesn't know the reason, but he realizes you're distraught, and he's using it against you hoping you'll make a brash decision. Once you're calm, you'll realize it and know it's out of the question."
"Lyonel … ," she rasped, slowly lifting her face from his chest to look up at him with the same strength and determination in her eyes he'd always known she'd possessed. Yet he also knew there was a gentle nature beneath that strength, one he'd always felt the need to protect.
Now was no different as she asked, "How can I not consider it? He's already been allowed to go too far, and I'm now at a disadvantage because of it."
"You've been carrying our child, Myriad," he pointed out. "Dragmire may have gained an edge during that time, but his work can be undone. We'll find a way, and for now, I want you to rest easy, my love. The answers will come."
Holding her husband's gaze, Myriad exhaled a deep breath in an attempt to calm down as he'd suggested and finally nodded. Clutching him in a tight hug once more, she whispered, "You're right. It's no paltry matter we face, but aren't you the one who said even the most complicated problems can have simple solutions?"
"I did," he returned, gently stroking her hair while admitting, "but I learned it from you."
For the first time that evening, Myriad smiled, enjoying Lyonel's warmth as they held each other just that way for several long moments. There was but one thing missing—their precious son, and grief over the loss was certainly clouding her judgment.
It made the task of focusing on her current dilemma seem insurmountable, and yet, thoughts of her son provided a distinct answer.
All she'd ever wanted was his safety and happiness. It was the very reason she'd sent him away, and it didn't matter how far apart they were, she'd do everything within her power to ensure he had a chance to grow up and live his life with the same opportunities as anyone else.
With the thoughts in mind, she looked up at Lyonel and related, "I love you so dearly, and I adore our son. You're the center of my entire world, and though I can't say with clarity what's to come, I can say the choices I make will be made with your best interests at heart."
Gifting her with a smile, Lyonel leaned down and kissed his wife so affectionately her heart ached. They were both hurting and in need of comfort, and for that moment, she pushed aside all thoughts of what had to be done in favor of focusing on her time with the man she loved, and it wasn't difficult.
After all, it was likely to be one of the last blissful nights she spent with him for quite some time.
A tumultuous week of planning and soul searching followed with one ultimate conclusion emerging—there was no choice in the matter. Myriad knew what she had to do, and found herself atop the back of her white stallion with the hood of her cloak drawn over her head as her blue eyes regarded the palace she was now departing.
It was difficult to look upon the structure without shedding any tears, and for that reason, she turned her gaze ahead while traveling through the courtyard. A calm, collected veneer was necessary if her plan was to succeed, and she even managed a smile at the royal guard escorting her to the drawbridge.
With the gates lowering, her escort drew her mount to a temporary halt and asked, "Are you sure you don't need further escort, Lady Myriad? Can your trip not wait until morning?"
As he handed her the reins, Myriad produced a sealed scroll from inside her cloak and placed it in his hand with her answer.
"Thank you for your concern, Illiam, but my business is urgent, and I'd rather you deliver this scroll to my husband so he'll know my whereabouts."
Taking the item, Illiam glanced from it and up at Myriad's kind face with the words, "I'll do so immediately, my lady."
"Thank you," Myriad replied, adding warmly, "you're a good friend, and I hope you're able to see your wife and son soon. How old is he now?"
"Tenio? He's just turned four," Illiam answered, qualifying with a smile, "I'll be traveling to River Town next week to be with them for an entire month."
For the first time that night, Myriad's smile was genuine as she returned, "Take good care of him, and might I ask one last favor of you before I depart?"
At his nod, Myriad advised, "Stay in River Town with your family and do not return to the palace. Resign your duty from the Royal Guard and serve the town in which your son resides. He needs you more than Hyrule does."
Her request left Illiam staring in shock, though his expression softened as he thought it over. Myriad could only hope that meant he saw the sense in her advice, but even if it didn't, there was no time to convince him. She'd simply have to hope he took her words to heart as she bid him goodbye and rode away to the Temple of Time under a veil of stars.
Illiam watched as the Sage of Light disappeared into the distance, wondering what Myriad was doing, and why she'd told him to resign his post—not that her advice didn't make sense. He missed spending time with Tenio and had honestly been considering transferring to serve River Town for several months.
So perhaps this was the sign he needed.
Thinking it over, he turned around to deliver her message to Lyonel—and came face to face with his superior.
"Myriad is leaving at this hour?"
"Sir Casimir," Illiam returned, startled by his sudden appearance. Yet he wasted no time answering, "Yes, she said her business was urgent, but didn't specify what it concerned."
Providing no acknowledgment of his answer, Casimir's gaze locked on the scroll clutched in his hand as he asked, "Is that for her husband?"
"It is," Illiam confirmed.
Without hesitation, Casimir commanded, "Open it."
Though he wasn't one to question orders, Illiam couldn't stop himself from staring in confusion, asking, "Sir?"
Thankfully, Casimir didn't take issue with the inquiry and merely explained, "There's reason to doubt Myriad's motivations, so King Hadinaru sent me to ensure she wasn't acting strange. But leaving so late at night? It's very strange indeed."
It was difficult not to give his superior a questioning stare, but he obeyed and broke the seal on the scroll before unrolling it.
"What does it say?" Casimir inquired.
Shaking his head, Illiam replied, "It's only a message asking Lyonel not to expect her to return until morning due to some unexpected business at the Temple of Time."
Narrowing his brows, Casimir took the scroll to see for himself, and in learning the message was so simple, he scoffed and tossed it aside. As it drifted to the ground, he glanced in the direction Myriad had traveled and announced, "I'll take care of this myself."
With his captain walking away, Illiam frowned, turning his attention to the letter now settled upon the wet ground. Despite Casimir's suspicions, and even the King's, he picked it up in determination to deliver it no matter how simple her message had turned out to be. After all, Myriad was the Sage of Light, someone he believed could be trusted, and Lyonel was more than a comrade—he was a good friend.
He was also awake when Illiam visited his quarters. Prior to his knock on the door, Lyonel had been staring out of a window with no idea where his wife had gone, but somehow, he didn't like the sense of foreboding that had settled in the pit of his stomach concerning the matter.
Myriad knew what she was doing, and he trusted her judgment, but the way things were shaping up simply didn't sit right.
So he wasn't entirely chatty once Illiam delivered the scroll, and his mood declined even further when his friend related Casimir's suspicions. Yet he didn't stay to discuss it, and Lyonel was grateful, too eager to read his wife's message to delay.
Adjourning to the window once alone, he unrolled the page, ignoring the broken seal with the knowledge that Casimir had been attempting to find some evidence of betrayal. He also knew the contents of the letter was safe as Myriad would've used a magic encryption to prevent sensitive information from being read by third parties.
Indeed, at the top was a false note mentioning her unexpected business at the temple, but as his eyes swept across the page, words began to form as if bleeding down it in ink—and he read each twice over.
My Husband,
Please forgive me. I've had to make a choice, and though that choice will ensure the safety of both the kingdom and my family, it won't be easy to accept. I'm sure this comes as no surprise considering the nature of Dragmire's ambition, and yet it isn't merely the Triforce he seeks, but power in every form.
He now controls the Sage Essences, the dark powers of the Sacred Realm, and should he succeed in obtaining any part of the Triforce, my own power will be the next he covets. Sadly, my chances of defeating him in a confrontation are already slim, and the only way I can prevent him from becoming a bigger threat is to seal away that which he desires.
In doing so, the Sacred Realm will become my home.
I have tried to devise another way of dealing with the problems at hand, but this is the only option that will both endanger as few lives as possible and also give those fighting against Dragmire time to undo his atrocities. In the meantime, I've no doubt word will spread of the Sages' abandonment of Hyrule, and the people will look to the false prince as their hope for the future. Yet I believe the true hope of Hyrule lies in the hands of the babies we've hidden away, and if I do not act now, we will all be submerged in darkness.
My love, I am ever so sorry. You are already bearing the loss of our child, and now that of your wife. But you must always remember you have not lost me for good. One day, I will free myself of the shackles placed upon me by Dragmire and we will see one another again. But for now, I've a responsibility to rectify my failure in preventing his evil from spreading, otherwise all will be lost in the darkness to follow.
Until we are reunited, not a day will pass without thought of you and our beautiful son. You are both the light of my life, and I will always love you.
Please, please forgive me,
Myriad
Lyonel lowered his head, finding it just as difficult to read the last letter his wife sent him now as it had been eighteen years prior. He'd happened across it rolled up in his satchels during an attempt to ensure everything he considered valuable was ready to go in the event of an emergency forcing him to leave with the revolt at River Town.
Looking up at the window of his personal quarters, he thought the letter over. Myriad hoped to rectify her failures, and now, with Link and Princess Zelda so close to destroying the last of Dragmire's orbs, he hoped her letter wasn't considered valuable for much longer. He hoped his son would return unscathed, and that the final battle for Hyrule could commence.
He hoped his long separation from his beloved wife would soon be over.
Returning the letter to his satchel before placing the bag in a chest near his bed, he tried to remind himself that night was darkest before the dawn. Indeed, the darkness Dragmire begot was about to engulf the entire kingdom, but Myriad's efforts weren't in vain, and the last hope of Hyrule was about to shine a beacon of light down for all to see.
It was just a matter of time.