Chapter 4 - Temple of Spirit II

From beamos to lizalfos and iron knuckles, from traps to annoying puzzles—many of which required the use of mirrors—the Temple of Spirit harbored danger around every turn, making Link think it didn't truly want to be saved.

Particularly when its own floor tiles rose into the air to fly in his direction.

It was simply fortunate that he'd stored a few vials of potion in one of his pouches because the trials presented seemed eager to ensure he used every last one. If things continued this way, the healing fairy he and Zelda were gifted with by the Maiden at Lake Hylia wasn't going to last much longer.

Indeed, the Spirit Temple was proving to be the most dangerous of all, and there was only one thing fighting more determinedly than the evil infesting it.

Link.

Using every weapon in his arsenal—including the boomerang gifted to him on his birthday—enemies fell before the Hero of Legend one after another, proving the sandstorm outside was meant to bar his path with good reason. The stakes were simply too high to allow him to fail, and knowing this was the last temple housing a dark orb kept him focused.

After this last push, they would be making plans to confront Ganondorf himself, and the sooner he was eliminated, the sooner Hyrule could recover. At last, Zelda would be able to meet her parents and, if all went well, Myriad could finally be freed of the Sacred Realm.

It was a tremendous undertaking, and an even larger burden to bear.

But Link was prepared to see it through.

An empty vial clattered against the floor as he had the thought. Winded and covered in a fine sheen of sweat after defeating a particularly strong iron knuckle, he continued lying upon the floor, waiting to regain his lost stamina and let the potion do its work before moving on.

Regrettably, it was the last bit of potion he had, and yet he wasn't entirely bothered by it. The chances were good that he was just about to accomplish his goal of accessing the walkway in the temple's atrium, so it was possible he wouldn't need it anyway. He also still had the healing fairy, and the thought of how close he was to reaching his destination was invigorating enough to get him back on his feet before the potion had even done its job.

Yet he didn't leave the chamber where he'd fought the iron knuckle before checking a chest at the back of the room. Inside was a golden key with a purple gem encrusted at the top, and he took it with a smile, knowing precisely what it unlocked.

There was one floor of the temple Link had yet to visit out of the five it possessed—the second floor where his mimicry had appeared. It was likely the shadow was still there as well because Link hadn't spotted him once since their initial encounter.

There was also a single locked door located close to the walkway in the atrium, and he wasted no time returning to it, stopping only when encountering an enemy that tried to bar his path. But after he'd gone through the place so many times and eradicated any monsters already lying in wait, there honestly weren't many, allowing him to reach his destination in quick time.

Accessing a set of spiral stairs he'd found in the left wing, he descended them until he reached the second floor where the door waited, and pulled the key out of his pouch to insert in the lock. As suspected, the item fit perfectly and turned with a click, allowing him to open it at last and find the walkway in the atrium stretching out ahead.

Realizing he was getting closer to freeing Zelda and helping her destroy the last orb—not to mention finding his shadow—Link didn't hesitate to cross it and access the same door his mimicry disappeared through earlier. Yet, of all the things he'd expected to find beyond it, what actually awaited was filled with irony.

A chamber of mirrors.

After spending so much time solving puzzles in this temple involving the items, it didn't come as a complete surprise to find them, and yet there were so many it was hard to tell if he was regarding a reflection, or a passageway. With some mounted on the walls while others stood on the floor, each were lined up in a manner that created a maze.

The only part of the room that wasn't reflective was the ceiling. Yet it possessed a number of large, hanging chandeliers made of crystal, and the illumination they provided was amplified by the mirrors. As a result, the chamber was all but drenched in silver light, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere despite the potential danger.

With the hilt of the Master Sword clutched in his hand where it remained sheathed upon his back, Link started the task of navigating the maze with caution. The entire while, he couldn't help thinking of how his shadow was birthed from a cursed mirror in the Temple of Time, and the memory alone was enough to make the prospect of breaking these seem completely worth the effort.

Instead, Link watched the reflections with a quiet wariness, deciding several broken shards of glass splitting the images would only make his task of navigating more difficult. There was also an upside to leaving them as they were, being that nothing could sneak up on him as all sides were visible thanks to the reflections.

Sadly, if a threat did present itself, it wouldn't be so easy to detect which direction it was coming from without giving it just a bit of thought that could waste valuable time reacting.

Keeping the possibility in mind, he heard a soft snicker and let a low, annoyed sigh to realize it matched his own voice. The domed roof of the chamber caused the sound to echo just as the mirrors surrounding him echoed his image, and Link rounded the next corner quickly, expecting to see his shadow standing before him.

But he only found himself standing in a reflection several feet away.

Still, he noticed movement to his left, and a quick glance to that side revealed his shadow now rushing toward him. So he instantly spun right to counter while drawing his blade—but his copy was gone.

While swiftly looking back and then to the side to ensure the mimicry had actually vanished, an amused laugh filled the chamber. The sound had Link scowling as he called, "Stop playing around. Come out and face me already."

"Just look in a mirror if you want to see me," came the shadow's reply.

Grumbling, Link muttered, "It isn't the same. I look a lot better than you do."

More laughter followed, and Link sneered, continuing on his way through the maze with caution—and his shadow wasn't content to let things be. Time and again, he'd glimpse movement, a reflection of black and white zipping by one of the mirrors, but by the time he turned around, the mimicry was already gone.

It was an annoying tactic meant to rattle him, and Link refused to play his games. Instead, he paced himself, remaining calm in the knowledge that if his shadow was here, he wasn't harming Zelda.

With the comforting thought in mind, he carried on as the mimicry related, "I'm surprised you got up here so fast. I figured that oversized tin can would've given you more of a problem."

Knowing he was referring to the iron knuckle, Link replied, "He did hit hard if that's what you mean. He just didn't hit hard enough."

"Too bad," the shadow responded—and his voice was much closer now, putting Link on full alert as he rounded a corner to find himself entering a much wider area.

The path of the maze had ended in a space shaped like an octagon, allowing Link to see himself eight times over—and in three of those mirrors was his dark half rushing him with the words, "I'll just have to do it myself!"

Spinning around at the last second, Link drew up the Master Sword to meet the shadow's blow with a loud clash that echoed throughout the chamber. For a brief moment, blue eyes met red, the anger in their gazes burning with equal intensity before they pushed each other away.

Simultaneously sliding back across the floor, Link regained his bearings and turned the Master Sword over in his hand with the words, "Well look who finally came out to play."

Moving toward him with a swing met by Link's blade, the resounding ping of metal almost seemed like a song their reflections danced to as Dark Link returned, "Just long enough to give the finishing touches."

As always, their blows were equally matched in strength and speed, their evasions as quick and precise. Sparks flew from successful strikes of their weapons, and after only a few deft moves, the shadow got the upper hand, forcing Link to step back as his opponent's blade thrust up vertically to impale his chest.

Yet the attack left Dark Link open, and his progenitor took advantage.

Sadly, it was another set of redundant movements that got neither of them anywhere. The shadow merely blocked Link's blow with his shield and countered, forcing his opponent to mirror his previous actions in a stalemate that didn't end until the two bashed shields so hard they stumbled apart.

Both winded from their vigorous engagement, Link found a knee hitting the floor as his shadow grumbled, "Why won't you just give up already? All this persistence gets really annoying."

Sneering, Link tightened his grip on the hilt of the Master Sword and inhaled a deep breath. Realizing their fight was going nowhere and would continue to do so while he tried to pace himself, he became the aggressor by pushing himself up to rush the shadow with the bellowed response, "Because I was here first!"

The only sound outmatching the determination in Link's voice was the clash of their swords as he gave into his rage. Instead of using his typical, rational approach to a fight, Link summoned every bit of anger he had and allowed it to guide him.

After everything his shadow had done, it wasn't a difficult task either.

Simply recalling the fear in Zelda's eyes when she'd mentioned the mimicry in River Town was enough, to say nothing for the crimes he'd committed in between. An urgent need to protect Zelda and everyone else at risk from the twisted shadow burned hotter than ever as a result of those thoughts, and this time, Dark Link was barely able to keep up with his movements.

Striking from the left, then the right, his rage lent him more speed than before, until Link backed the mimicry toward a mirror before his opponent finally managed to lash out on his own. Using his shield to block, Link countered in the quickest fashion possible—by sending the edge of his shield into his shadow's cheek with as much force as he could muster.

The blow caused a satisfying grunt of pain to sound as the mimicry toppled over sideways, and Link didn't stop there. While his enemy was still dazed, he quickly flipped his sword over in his hand to stab down into the bastard's back.

As it sliced the air, Dark Link rolled aside, causing the sword to embed itself into the floor where he'd once lain, though he didn't come away unscathed. Instead, his right bicep was cut open, not that the resulting sting stopped him from drawing up a boot to kick into Link's shoulder and knock the Hylian away.

The blow came more quickly than expected, sending Link flying backwards. In the process, he lost his grip on the Master Sword, leaving the blade stabbed into the floor as he tried to right himself mid-fall only to crash into a mirror.

Though his left side made impact with enough force to send a single crack through the glass, his head did most of the damage—or took it.

The moment Link's temple hit the smooth surface, several shards broke away which sliced into his flesh. In turn, his hat fell from his head, now stained red with the blood flowing through his blond hair and down the side of his face.

Dazed from the impact and the resulting pain, he only barely noticed Dark Link standing to move toward him, weapon at the ready. Thankfully, the glint of his enemy's sword in the mirror provided enough notice to dive out of the way before the weapon could cause him harm, and instead, more of the mirror shattered behind Link as his shadow's blade stabbed into it.

Unfortunately, his roll put even more space between himself and the Master Sword, and with Dark Link standing between them, there was no time to go for it. Instead, the moment he landed in a crouch and looked back, his copy was already turning toward him after jerking his sword from the shattered mirror.

Rushing in, Dark Link brought his blade around in an attempt to sever his enemy's head. The attack forced Link to raise his shield, resulting in a loud clash of metal that he ignored in favor of bolstering his strength. With it, he pushed himself up while simultaneously thrusting his sword arm at the mimicry to stab a broken shard of the mirror into his abdomen.

He'd managed to snatch the glass from the floor during his roll to escape impalement, and as the shard successfully found its way into Dark Link's stomach, Link continued to push the shadow until he crashed through another mirror.

Falling through the glass with his enemy, the replica of the Master Sword clattered against the floor nearby as Link jerked the shard out and stabbed the shadow a second time with as much force as he could muster. The two landed together with broken bits of the mirror cascading around them, and the shard found its way into Dark Link's lower chest so deeply that Link lost his grip on it.

Now on his back beneath his progenitor, black blood poured from his new wounds, his red eyes beginning to glow just before they squeezed shut.

Still scowling down at his enemy, the brief glimpse of his eyes gave Link pause. Had he mortally injured the shadow? As if to answer his question, a gush of black blood suddenly erupted from his lips, teeth bared and gritting against the pain.

It seemed strange to look at what was essentially his own face and see such agony—not that he had any sympathy for the shadow whatsoever. In fact, all he felt was relief knowing he'd finally gotten the upper hand, and with the replica of the Master Sword within arm's reach, he moved to grasp the hilt with the words, "The only good thing about you looking like me is that I can see how bad it really hurts."

Just as his fingers made contact with his shadow's weapon to lift it and put an end to him once and for all, a loud whir of energy sounded without warning as Dark Link lifted his hand and conjured a dark orb to send into his progenitor.

Because he was right on top of the orb, the power hit with the force of a battering ram, launching Link up and across the room. Sailing through the air, he only came to a stop when his back crashed into another mirror, sending the shards flying everywhere.

Link crumpled to the floor in turn, growing still with pain wracking his entire body. The room seemed to spin around him as a result, and it was impossible to say whether that was a lingering effect of his shadow's magic, or if the impact had caused the sensation, but it made his recovery much harder to accomplish.

Several new gashes now marred his skin in various places, and his back felt as if it were on fire.

Yet the worst pain came in the form of Dark Link's blade stabbing down into his chest.

Grunting from impalement, Link could barely open his eyes to see his mimicry standing above him with a maliciously smug grin on his lips despite his own injuries. He wasn't even certain he knew what had just happened, and yet, as he reached up a hand to make certain he was aware, his fingers did in fact clasp a blade that was presently wedged deep in his chest.

A cold sweat engulfed him in response to the discovery, eyes opening to regard the blurry sight of his own mortal wound now soaking his jerkin with blood.

Releasing the hilt of the Master Sword replica he'd just thrust into his progenitor, Dark Link stumbled away and temporarily ignored his victory to rip the mirror shard out of his chest by digging at it with his fingers. Grunting in pain, he finally managed to work the glass free and tossed it aside to clatter against the floor before glancing over at Link.

Still slumped against the broken mirror with the Master Sword replica embedded in his chest, the sight of his defeated light half had him grinning endlessly through his pain.

"You were here first, it's true … ," he rasped, adding, "but I'll be here last."

Link stared at him, the sharp anger in his blue eyes turning glassy as his lips parted, but all that emerged was a gush of blood. Simultaneously, his hand slipped down across the blade embedded in his chest to land on the floor as his head slumped to the right. A pool of crimson formed beneath him, pouring from his numerous injuries as proof of one distinct truth.

It was all over.

Regarding his fallen progenitor, Dark Link's weakened laughter filled the chamber as he turned away only to stumble a few steps before catching himself against the corner of a mirror that was still intact after their vicious fight. His black blood left a print on it as a result, speaking volumes of the fact that his victory wouldn't mean anything if he didn't find a way to heal himself soon.

Fortunately, he had the perfect means to do so waiting for him in the temple's sanctum, and stopped just long enough to regard an item laying on the floor near his feet that could convince her to provide assistance.

Link's bloody hat.

Naturally, telling Zelda that her beloved had fallen wouldn't help, so he'd just have to tweak the story if only to soften the blow.

Smirking at the thought, Dark Link took the garment and departed as swiftly as possible, leaving Link to grow cold with the Master Sword replica jutting from his chest.

The Goddess Hylia.

Zelda sat quietly at the center of her magical prison, having initially engaged in a session of meditation to conserve her strength as the dome continued to radiate light around her. But as her wait for liberation drew on, she found herself gazing at each statue within the sanctum's various alcoves in an attempt to identify them.

Sadly, most were unknown to her, but a few were recognizable, including a sculpture above the door at the front of the room. Most of the head was missing, broken off of the statue to leave a diagonal edge while the lower half was almost fully intact, a feminine figure possessing wings and hands folded over her chest.

The portion of her face that was visible also showcased half of a warm smile, and though Zelda had only ever seen one statue like it before, she'd know it anywhere.

Just after she'd turned fifteen years old, Impa had taken her to an underground spring only a few miles south of the Fairy Pools. It was one of the most beautiful places she'd ever seen—not that she'd traveled much at that point in her life. Still, she could clearly recall her wonder, and inside the cavern was a smaller version of the same statue standing above the sanctum door.

Impa informed her that the carving was representative of the Goddess Hylia, and also instructed her on a method of praying in its presence for purification. It was an old tradition, though when Zelda asked for clarification on its purpose, all her mentor said was it provides understanding.

The answer had seemed strange. She trusted Impa, and knew the Sheikah possessed knowledge on matters most people would be hard pressed to even understand. But to that day, Zelda wasn't sure she'd ever gained any insight from her time spent in the statue's presence, nor had she really considered it.

And yet she did recall experiencing a sense of comfort and even familiarity while praying in dedication that afternoon.

Sadly, while repeating the words of her prayer as best as she could remember within the sanctum now, such feelings were absent. Instead, a chill had enveloped the room, putting her senses on alert as if something dire was happening somewhere within the temple. What it might be, she couldn't imagine, and yet she also couldn't shake the feeling it concerned Link.

Making matters worse, she simply knew he was in mortal danger.

Her blood went frigid at the thought, her intuition over the matter too strong to allow her to continue praying or meditating. Yet she couldn't simply sit within her prison and do nothing.

So she did the only thing she could do.

—Link … .—

Clutching her hands tightly before her face, Zelda focused her thoughts in an attempt to contact him and provide support. It was the first time she'd ever tried to actually speak to someone telepathically, and it wasn't easy. Yet, after forming a telepathic bridge with him at River Town during his recovery, she knew what to look for, and soon sensed her thoughts touching his.

And it didn't provide a single ounce of comfort.

Instead, her contact only offered a vague sense of distress. It was faint to the point of fading, as if growing weaker by the second, setting her heart racing with fear.

—Link! Please don't give up … !—

There was no real way to be certain he'd heard her, but just as she was about to try again by relating her current safety, the sanctum doors opened with a thud.

Startled by the sound, she swiftly looked up to spy Dark Link entering the room—or rather, stumbling into it. The sight of his clumsy movements proved he'd been injured, and as he worked his way closer to the dome, she could see the full extent of the damage.

In addition to numerous gashes with his black blood staining his face and hair, his hand was covered in the same substance as he clutched a wound in his lower chest.

Getting on her feet as the mimicry stepped through the magical barrier surrounding her, she had to wonder if his poor condition was Link's doing—and something deep down gave a resounding yes. Yet the notion provided no comfort with her concerns for Link still going strong.

Had the shadow injured Link just as badly? Perhaps even worse?

It was possible, though Dark Link made it difficult to say in relating, "I have some bad news, and don't jump to conclusions because it's not my fault."

Despite her fear of the mimicry, she stood her ground as he lifted his free hand to show her a garment stained with blood—Link's hat.

Eyes widening at the sight of it, she instinctively reached to snatch it from his fingers, and he didn't deny her, explaining as she inspected the item, "We both fell victim to one of this temple's traps, and he's been injured, but I can help him if you'll heal me."

Zelda could barely pay the mimicry any attention, her fingers clenching Link's hat as she fought to get control of her overflowing emotions. Finally, with a deep breath, she managed to tap them down enough to ask, "What do you mean you'd help him? You'd only take advantage of any situation that left him vulnerable, and I can't believe your injuries are the result of something as innocuous as you both being caught in a trap."

"It's true," he insisted. "There's a room full of mirrors just outside the sanctum, and we both crashed through one after tripping a switch in the floor that moved a platform and separated us. But he was knocked unconscious and impaled on a large shard of glass. Still, he'll be fine if I can get to him. I just can't do anything like this."

Zelda regarded him with skeptical eyes, so overwrought with worry that it was difficult to discern the truth. Something deep down told her he was lying, and yet she couldn't dismiss the mild hint of honesty in his voice.

The only question was what he was being honest about. His intentions? Link's condition? His own? It was plain to see his injuries were severe. Not only was his pallor wan, his eyes were also glowing in a dull manner suggesting he wouldn't last much longer without help.

"You don't look very well," she heard herself stating while feeling miles away from the situation.

"I'm not," he rasped, reaching up to clutch her shoulder with the words, "I need you to help me, Zelda."

Taking her wrist, the shadow pressed her hand over the injury in his chest, his forehead falling against hers as he all but begged, "Please? I'll earn your approval with this. I promise. Just … help me."

Zelda's first instinct was to jerk away, and yet some forlorn sense of desperation held her motionless as she stared directly ahead with tears welling in her eyes. It was so easy to hear Link's voice in his words, particularly after her brief connection with him before the shadow returned to the sanctum. The telepathic contact proved Link was in distress, a thought that reminded her of how he'd screamed her name as a child while plummeting off a cliff—and once again, she was powerless to do anything for him.

Except this. I have no choice.

Finally looking down at her hand covering Dark Link's injury, she slowly nodded and whispered, "Very well."

Sucking in a breath, she carefully summoned her magical energy with all the skill she possessed. Soon, her palm was glowing white against his black jerkin, the illumination building until it was ready—and she wasted no time using it.

A loud whir of sound abruptly emanated from the light a split second before she released it as a surge of power. But instead of healing him, it blasted the shadow away from her without warning.

As a result, the mimicry went sailing through the air and outside of the magical barrier imprisoning her, grunting in pain as he hit the floor.

Sliding to a stop, Dark Link cringed, needing a few moments to collect himself before sending a murderous glare in her direction. Yet Zelda didn't flinch, having used the time he took recovering from the blow to her advantage, and stood her ground as the mimicry pushed himself up to approach the barrier again.

"You're going to pay for that," he threatened before reaching the dome—only to be shocked the moment he came into contact with its magic.

Grunting as he stumbled back, the shadow's expression went from murderous to enraged confusion at his inability to enter the dome, demanding, "What!"

Expression even and voice calm, Zelda responded, "I've taken a lesson from Myriad and reinforced your barrier with my own power. If you wish to keep me sealed inside, then my healing abilities will remain sealed inside with me. I will not aid you, and I won't allow you to come inside. You'll simply have to take your chances and hope for the best."

She could literally see the rage building in Dark Link's eyes. The sight of it was unnerving, but she remained calm, watching as he raised his hand against the barrier with a swirl of dark energy erupting from his palm intended to bring it down. Focusing her own abilities, Zelda closed her eyes and took a breath in the effort of reinforcing the barrier with her power against his, keeping it strong despite how it wavered between them.

And when it wouldn't break after several moments of trying, her enemy finally resigned himself with an enraged yell and jerked his arm away.

No longer engaged in holding the barrier together, Zelda exhaled and looked up to see Dark Link stumbling to the floor. His attempt to reach her had obviously taken its toll—as he landed on his knees, he became a proverbial shadow.

Groaning in pain, his image turned stark black with the red glow of his eyes fully encompassing each orb. There was literally nothing left to behold but the outline of the one she loved, and it soon turned its burning red gaze in her direction.

Zelda forced herself not to react, realizing the shadow would have killed her if it could've reached her in that moment. Instead, it stumbled to its feet and started for the doors, evidently intent on leaving to look for some alternative means of healing itself before it could pass into oblivion.

And once she was alone, she finally let herself fall to her knees.

Clutching Link's hat in her hands, Zelda buried her face in the garment and inhaled a deep breath, able to catch his scent mixed with the copper aroma of blood. Several tears trailed down her cheeks from her vast concern for his current situation, and yet she wouldn't apologize for her actions no matter how helpless she felt to do anything to save him.

She simply couldn't compromise the safety of the kingdom by healing the shadow, nor could she have trusted Dark Link to keep his word and help his progenitor—saying he was even telling the truth about Link from the start. With no way of knowing for sure, she was left in a situation where her hands were tied.

Plagued by a sense of dubious guilt over the thought, she gazed up at the Goddess statue once again and exhaled low, offering the broken sculpture one last prayer.

Please … please bring Link back to me once more.