Chapter 29
The world is in a constant state of chaos and flux. Nothing ever stays the same. Even as the days cycle onward, our very bodies are traded, cell by cell, for newer versions. The wind and water erode the mountains and carve the river valleys. Sunlight bleaches and dries. Everything is made and unmade, over and over, in an endless cycle.
This is what makes mortals so special, and so different than the world they inhabit. Somewhere within them is that centerpiece, that unchanging rock of self-awareness which makes the experience of life so unique. Some people call it the spirit or the soul or many other names; however it is the substance, not the name, which is important.
For it is the thing which allows us to grow old and sentimental- it is the part of us that thrills at the golden promise of a rising sun, and swoons for the rosy pinks of that same sun's setting. It is the place we keep our dearest memories and our most sacred desires. It is the perch we roost upon while our children preen their wings, and the part of us which knows by instinct how to teach them to fly.
It is the place where courage owns fear, and all things dread and evil are driven out, replaced instead by a bright and inextinguishable light. It is where we know that though we may suffer in life through every hardship, we will endure, for that part of us- that place inside ourselves –is forever. It does not age the way the world does. It watches, ageless, as time happens to the world around it.
It casts out our fears, and in their place we dream of dragons.
Link's mighty guardian carried him up the spiraling stairs, its ghostly form a whirlwind of warmth and light, its only purpose to protect the boy. He was losing a lot of blood, and time was of the essence. If nothing could be done soon then he would die, and that would spell doom for many besides the young hero. The dragon felt nothing of fear or anxiety though. It only knew determination, and as it surged up the dark tower, the will to live throbbed within the boy in a way that defied his weak and battered state.
Together, they burst through the doorway to the chamber at the top of the stairs, throwing wide the stone double-doors. On the other side, a strange room greeted them, its purpose something in-between a throne room and a boiler. Strange machinery crowded the walls, stacked all the way up to the ceiling, and intense cold permeated the air. The blue glow of energy which had been present in every room of the strange temple was brightest here, and its source seemed to be a giant cylinder of light which stood sentinel-like in the spot at the far end of the room, behind an immense, silvery throne.
They were not alone. The throne was occupied.
Link recognized the creature, its blue robes and black skin, its tall, dark crown, and its endless, star-filled eyes. It sat upon its throne like a giant, evil god, its face an enigmatic mask of alien emotion. At once, Link knew the beast: It was Nyarlathotep, the Black Pharaoh, the blasphemous prisoner of dead Kadath's ancient dream engine.
Beside the Pharaoh's throne was another figure; one which Link had not expected to encounter. Looking meek and shabby, his shoulders hunched and toes turned in, Lysander trembled beside the throne like a beaten dog.
"I told you not to come," said Lysander, a weird smile on his sallow face, "I tried to warn you about this place. About the demons that haunt it. The 'guards', who are but phantoms, servants of the Haunter of the Dark."
"What are you doing here?" said Link, "I thought you were imprisoned with my friends."
"Ah, yes, as did I!" said the bard, "You see, when I first encountered you I did not even suspect… but how could I? After all, you are just a child. It seems so unlikely, so inconceivable, that one so young and innocent should be fated for things so black. At first, I had supposed you would merely be killed and then perhaps I would have some company at last in my sad cell. Little did I know, you heralded my escape from that wretched place! Truly, I must thank you. I am finally free."
"What are you talking about?" said Link. He could feel the Dragon's presence, its ghostly glow still cradling him, helping him to stand. It was snarling like a threatened dog, chomping at the bit to attack the Bard and the Black Pharaoh. Something was terribly amiss about Lysander's presence in that place, Link's dragon knew it right away, but what could it mean?
"I am talking about my freedom," said Lysander, "Once you left, the ravens came to me. They opened my cell whilst your friends slept heavy. They bade me, take your mortal body and bring it to the tower, to present it to my Lord. I was gifted with Waking Sight, and oh the horror of being that wretched zombie once again. But I did as I was asked. Even now, your sleeping self rests but a few feet away in the Waking World."
"You told me you were Nyarlathotep's prisoner, not his servant," said Link.
"I told you that I glanced behind the veil of dreams, and there I saw Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, and from that day forth was I doomed to be his prisoner," said Lysander, "But I did not tell you everything I learned that ill-fated day. The Black Pharaoh is endless in form and name, his visages are a thousand thousand, and his presence is myriad and simultaneous. Many dark sorcerers have been but reflections of his black heart, and so too were the ravens his avatars which you have vanquished so gallantly… and, so too am I, Lysander the Bard of Kadath, a mere invention of the demon's heart.
"It was my purpose in life, through my voice and my prose, to rally the people of Kadath to build the Dream Engine, to use it to harness the energy which lay dormant in my dead master. It was by my design that the bones, which were so neatly sealed away by regal Hylia when the world was still young, were fastened to the throne, and the massive, sacred emerald was fit upon this tower's crown. My hands drew the lamps and the gates and the glowing streets of Kadath. We were to be a symbol for all civilization to aspire toward! We would have power, energy, comfort beyond what had been realized anywhere in the world. It was going to be a utopia.
"But all was for naught. All my efforts to help the people of Hylia were twisted by him, so that, without my knowledge or consent, every action I took in life served to give the demon strength. It was a cruel thing, making me the way I am. How I feel, and think… the pride I felt! I was Hylian! No, that was all a lie. I was never of this world. I am merely an unwanted guest, a parasite, an unwitting agent of the Black Pharaoh. He designed me, and from the moment I was conceived within my mother I was but a tainted spawn of the most alien and terrible of aberrations. Can you imagine? Learning that your life was nothing but a small facet of the plans of some God, whose realm lies outside the very boundaries of space and time as we know them? I went mad!"
He looked quite mad as he said it. Link couldn't take his eyes away from the Bard, whose crazed and manic eyes had grown larger and larger as he took occasional, shambling steps towards the boy.
"I railed against my fate. I told him I would not help him. It was already too late for Kadath, but I would not lift a finger against Golden Hyrule! Perhaps he made me too well, too true to my intended form, for love was in me for Hylia and her lovely world, and I would not betray her willingly. Oh, what a fool was I!
"There is no going against him. His will is law, older and more imminent than the stars themselves. When I was locked away he spoke to me through the ravens, and he told me… 'Many thousands of years', said he, 'you will wait here in this place until I have need of you. One day, someone will come who can release me from my prison, and on that day you, too, will leave Kadath'. This was the Black Pharaoh's prophecy to me, Lysander of Kadath! For millennia I have waited. So long and endless a wait, I had nearly forgotten- I daren't suspect a single soul who wandered into the necropolis of being my long-awaited salvation. It was too much to hold such hope in my weary heart.
"But now… ! O, don't you see it? You have arrived!" there was maniacal joy in the Bard's lilting voice. He plucked his hat from his head, revealing his mat of greasy brown hair, and he giggled gleefully, throwing his arms into the air, "By your hand, young swordsman, will the Black Pharaoh know freedom at last! It is a dark fate. Darker even than my own, for mine were merely the hands to primer the explosion, it will be yours to trigger it. With you goes all of sacred Hylia, but, alas- it is as they say, is it not? Nothing lasts forever. Not even worlds. I go to my eternal grave at last. If the rest of the world is not far behind me, what can I do about it? What powers have I against the hand of fate?"
"You're insane!" spat Link, "I would never help you or that monster."
"You have not been given a choice," said Lysander, frowning, "It has already been set in motion. You have climbed the tower, and you have slain the guardians, and now all that is left is for you to break the seal and release him. It is your fate, there is no stopping it."
"I won't do it!" cried Link, "I won't do anything you say, and you can't make me! Now release my friends, and give over the treasure of this temple so that we can leave here and never come back."
"Alas, it is the inevitable tragedy," said Lysander, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in dramatic gesture, "For you shall find your prizes behind the same seal you would refuse to break. Behold!"
Lysander threw his arm back, presenting the glowing cylinder behind the silver throne to Link as if it were some performer taking the stage. The lights around them dimmed so that only the glow of the cylinder's eldritch light could be seen. Within the electric blue, it seemed that clouds were swirling, as though the thing were full of inky water, being churned by invisible hands.
Then some dark and mammoth shape slapped up against the glass, causing the boy to start with surprise. It was like a long, slithering arm, and it reminded him of the tentacles of Nyarlath's evil octopus shape he had encountered so long ago in the Temple of the Mind. Another creeping, slithering appendage joined it, groping around the glass like a caged animal seeking release. A spark of lightning arced across the interior of the cylinder, and for a second Link could see a mass of sickly-looking flesh, like the stalk of some massive, black tree, tapered at the end to nothing but a wispy curl. On the 'face' of the thing, if it could be called such, a gaping hole, more like a wound than a mouth, boasted a funnel of razor sharp teeth, arranged in no particular order around a grotesque red gullet. It had no eyes, no ears, no nose… it scarcely had a head. It was the most alien, most monstrous thing Link had ever seen.
"There, within him is your treasure," cried Lysander, "The shard of power which you quest for, and the Sleepstone which is your link to the World of the Waking… and yet one other prize, which your heart thought lost forever…"
One of the horrid, tentacle-like appendages of the imprisoned monster came unfurling from the depths of the glowing cylinder. It was wrapped around the silhouette of some Hylianoid creature, which flopped around like a ragdoll as it was wrenched about. The curling tentacle raised the limp body and pressed it up against the glass, so that the fog of swirling blue around it did not obstruct his vision any more. Link gasped.
"Scarlett!" shouted the boy, "That can't be! I saw her die!"
"Your are wrong: she lives yet," replied the Bard, "Now, make your choice, young one. Will you break the seal, and claim your prizes? Will you save your poor friend, or will you leave her with him? My master has been trapped here for quite some time. I would hate to imagine what sort of torments he might dream up for a mortal soul if denied his freedom yet longer. She will not die, not while he keeps her here. Every day will feel like death, but never will she die, of this you can be sure."
Link couldn't believe his eyes. How could it be Scarlett? But there she was, unconscious by the look of it, her face smashed up against the glass so that her cheek was pressed flat. Was she breathing? He could not tell. It was against his every instinct to do anything the treacherous Bard asked of him, but how could he just leave Scarlett in the clutches of whatever monstrosity lurked within the cylinder of light? And what of the Sleepstone and the shard of treasure? He could not leave those things behind.
He was sure that releasing whatever entity the people of Kadath had trapped within the temple was not a good thing, but he was also sure that he would stop at nothing to return to Zelda, to keep his promise, and to recover the treasure that they had already sacrificed so much for.
"How can I trust you?" replied the boy, "How can I trust anything you say? You were the one who warned me not to listen to anything this Pharaoh of yours said! You told me I would be lied to!"
"When I said those things I did not know you to be the one," said the Bard, "Now that I see who you really are things are different. It matters not what you say to me now. These things were written long ago, and it is our sorry lot as mortals to act them out. We are but players, who share the stage with gods, our meager experience of life dwarfed by the immensity of their wills. I already know what choice you will make, so hurry and make it! I have waited too long, and am impatient for the freedom I was promised."
"If I do this… if I break the seal…" stammered Link, "Will I get back to the Waking World? Will you really let me and my friends go?"
"It will not matter what you do after," said Lysander, "After that it will only be a matter of time before the Crawling Chaos will consume all things in your world. Do what you will with the final moments of your life. Be they days or weeks or years, live them to their fullest. For, one day, the Crawling Chaos will come for you, and when that day comes there will be nothing of you and your kind left."
"Okay," said Link, "Do it, boy…"
Link felt the warmth of the dragon leaving him as its ghostly form drifted like a mist towards the huge, glowing cylinder. He crumpled to the floor, unable to stand without the dragon's help. The blood resumed its gruesome flow from the gaping wound on his shoulder, and he suddenly felt more tired than he ever had.
He did not see as the dragon's wispy, white body wrapped around and around the tube of light. Its head appeared as a wraith from the ghostly, insubstantial cloud that was its body, and with fangs of shining white it bit the cylinder. Immediately, cracks spread across the surface of the glass, letting jets of blue steam off into the air. The dragon roared, and clamped down harder with its mighty jaws.
"At last," said Lysander, staring up into the swirling mass of blue light. The Black Pharaoh watched, wordless, from his silvery throne, as the Bard smiled up at him.
"Freedom…" said Lysander.
The cylinder exploded, flooding the room with clouds of rolling blue. Vision became meaningless. Link slipped off into a dreamless, comatose sleep.
Zelda, Zig and Gwen were nearing the base of the tower when a sudden tremor, more intense than any that had preceded it, racked Kadath. The whole group was thrown to the ground, the sound of an explosion ringing painfully in their ears. Zelda looked up to the pale sky, watching as the green star atop the tower burst into a shower of crystalline glitter against the gray clouds.
The glowing light, which permeated the walls and streets of Kadath like veins of electricity, was suddenly gone. The street lamps darkened, the tower lost its shine, and all the little grooves in the streets became black and unremarkable. Zelda could feel it, like being suddenly plunged into a stone-cold tomb from a thriving jungle. It was as though all the life had been drained right out of Kadath, like blood from a slaughtered calf.
"Now what?" said Gwen.
As if to answer her, a terrible moan echoed through the dead streets. Then another. Then another.
All around them, the redead had stopped in their useless and amiable shambling, their strange and emaciated bodies twisting all around to face Zelda and her companions. One's head cocked unnaturally to the side, and it resounded the guttural groan which had risen like an echoed battle cry all around them.
"What's happening?" said Zelda, pointing her arrow from one zombie to another. There were so many of them! She had grown so accustomed to their benign behavior, she had forgotten that they were surrounded by the beasts.
"This is bad," said Zig, "It must have been the tower that was keeping them docile."
"What does that mean?" cried Gwen.
"It means that things are about to get a whole lot more dangerous," replied Zig.
Zelda cast her eyes down the road toward the base of the tower. They were so close! She could see the black gates. But dozens of the monsters were between them and their goal. Zelda pointed her weapon up the street, letting fly an arrow at the nearest ghoul. It struck the thing square in the chest, where its shining golden tip burst into a gleam of searing light. The zombie began to fizzle away from the point where the arrow hit it, as if it were made of slow-burning paper. The thing faded from existence completely, issuing one final moan to the slate-grey sky.
"Follow me!" cried Zelda, making a mad dash down the street. She was already notching another arrow, and choosing another target. It was an automatic motion, fueled by adrenaline. She found herself remembering the countless afternoons spent riding and shooting. Horseback archery was a noble sport, and many members of the Hyrulean court learned it. The bow was a symbol of Hylian nobility, as were the sacred Light Arrows, which she wielded so expertly.
Zelda had never fired an arrow at a living creature before, but she supposed the redead didn't actually count.
Zig and Gwen followed behind her, occasionally slashing or bashing one of the shuffling monsters aside.
"Don't make eye contact with any of them," said Zig, "If they freeze you, it will be a lot harder to get away!"
They fought their way further down the street, battling desperately against the endless horde of walking corpses, until they were a mere two blocks from the base of the tower. Here, the throng of monsters grew thicker, and Zelda noticed that it seemed they were gathering around the tower's base. There was no way through down the street they had been taking, they would have to turn or double back.
"This way!" shouted Zelda, picking a side road and leading the pirates along. She was firing arrows as fast as she could. Her arms burned with the sudden exertion- had she really never used them so intensely? After watching Link and the pirates swing swords as if they were made of feathers, it embarrassed her to think she couldn't handle pulling a bowstring a few times. She gritted her teeth against the fatigue and the panic. She could not show weakness now. Everyone was depending on her… Link was depending on her…
"Gwen, no!"
At Zig's words, Zelda whirled around automatically. Gwen was standing several feet behind her, her face twisted in a horrible expression of fear. She did not so much as tremble. It was as if her body had become solid stone. She had looked into one of the monster's eyes!
Zig was fighting with his head down, swinging his broken clockwork arm like a club, and kicking with the vicious, striking precision of a martial artist. Still, it was not enough; in moments he would be overtaken. Zelda headed back towards the pirates, notching an arrow and obliterating a groping zombie just before it could seize Zig by the back.
At Gwen's side, Zelda took the pirate by the arm and tugged,
"Come on, we have to go!" shouted Zelda.
"It's no good," said Zig, "She's been frozen. It will take time for the effect to wear off, and we can't move her. Go on, get out of here. I will protect her as long as I can."
"No!" cried Zelda, plugging two more zombies with her light arrows, "We are all leaving together. No one else dies!"
Zelda gripped Gwen's arm tight, slinging her bow around her back alongside her quiver. Every second the shambling monsters were getting closer. She could feel them bearing down on her, feel their paralytic gaze like ice dripping down her spine. In mere seconds, they would be overtaken by the crowd of corpses.
"Grab my hand!" shouted Zelda.
The pirate understood at once. Zig gripped Zelda's hand in his, and the princess immediately began her prayer, "Din, Goddess of Power, who cultivated the world from mere dust with the fire of her powerful arms, I beseech you, lend me your strength!"
Her eyes filled with fire. From the center of her chest, the globe of immolation grew once again, just as it had in the Temple of the Heart. There was a cacophony of pained moans and wails as the zombies caught fire, one by one, until they were scattered to ashes all around.
Silence returned to the dreary street. The light in Zelda's eyes faded, and she stood there drawing ragged breaths, her hands still clutching Zig and Gwen tightly.
Zelda turned her head, and her eyes met Zig's. The pirate was staring at her, a curious expression in his eyes. Zelda didn't know why, but the look on the old pirate's face reminded her of the way her father looked at her when he told her he was proud of her. It made her feel happy and sad all at once.
"What happened?" suddenly Gwen was panting for breath. She leaned weakly against Zelda, who staggered to hold the pirate up. Gwen was small, but her muscular body made her much heavier than Zelda, and though the princess was fighting it, she was beginning to get exhausted from exerting herself.
Suddenly, another guttural moan split the air. They turned to see. Down the street, new zombies were already filing in to replace the ones Zelda had destroyed. They were not in the clear yet.
"Come on, we need to move," said Zig.
Zelda nodded. She allowed Zig to take Gwen by the shoulder, and drew her bow as they dashed along down the street, closer to the tower. She looked up at the monolith of black stone. Its top was ruined and broken now, damaged badly by the explosion.
Link was up there, she knew it. They were so close…
Scarlett was choking.
She awoke, sputtering and hacking, as though she had swallowed copious amounts of some sour, syrupy liquid. What had happened? All she could remember was tumbling down the tube at the center of the tower… it was a sheer drop, there was no way she could have survived… she tried to stay out of the column of green light, but it was impossible. The shining energy had engulfed her, and everything had gone dark, and then she had woken up… where exactly?
Still coughing hard, she tried to look around, and found the room she was in to be dark and foreboding. She blinked against the darkness- her eyes felt as though they had come fresh out of a blinding bright light, and it took some moments for her vision to fade in.
She was in some strange room, in the center of what appeared to be a shattered glass tube. She looked up, and saw the cavernous hole gaping in the ceiling above her. Far, far over head was a speck of white light, like the pinprick of a faraway sky. Was this the same tube she had fallen down? But if so, where had the green gemstone and column of light gone?
She looked around. The floor was wet and sticky, and so were her clothes. Near her, at the center of the broken glass, a kind of metal chair was sitting, far too large for any person to sit in comfortably. Besides, it was occupied.
Upon the strange chair, or perhaps the word was throne, the bones of some alien being were fastened by straps and shackles, as though someone were afraid they might rise and walk around at any moment. It was such a strange shape; she could not imagine it with the skin on. She could see what looked like a ribcage, but after that the similarities to regular Hylian anatomy ended. Seven limbs protruded asymmetrically from the thing, but Scarlett could not tell if they were arms or legs. The whole thing appeared to be a jumbled mess, and Scarlett found its impression singularly disturbing.
A sudden hacking and coughing caused Scarlett to jump. She turned on her heel, peering into the shadows surrounding her. On the floor, some feet away, a small, dark form was curled in a fetal ball, sucking down pained, desperate breaths.
Warily, the pirate approached the fallen shape.
"Good Goddess!" exclaimed Scarlett, leaping over some shards of broken glass to run to the resting figure.
She crouched down, flipping the figure onto its back. Link was sprawled out before her, his body pale, his breath shallow and labored. A massive, gory wound gaped on his shoulder, and he was in a feverish state of unconsciousness.
"Dammit!" cried Scarlett. She tore open her jacket, and gripped the hem of her tattered and damp undershirt, tearing a clean strip from the cloth all the way around, exposing her lean midriff. She bunched up the ball of fabric and set it aside, then plunged her fingertips into the torn tunic and ripped it open so she could reach the wound. Then, she plucked the bunched up cloth back up and pressed it as hard as she could into the gash, "Well, ye've really done it this time kid. I don't know whether or not I can stop this from bleeding out. Curse the stars, where are those other idiots! Are you all that's left, ye daft little bastard?"
She glanced frantically around, at a loss for what to do. She had none of her supplies on her, nothing to use as thread or needle to seal the wound. Searching would mean leaving the boy's side, and without pressure applied to the wound, he would fade in minutes. She couldn't even be sure how much blood he had already lost. Worst of all, there was no sign of Zelda, Zig or Gwen. She prayed that they were still alive somewhere, otherwise there was no hope of claiming the temple's treasure, and she would have to brave the long trip back to Hyrule on her own.
The next temple, the Temple of Fate, lay in the tropical oceans to the south of the necropolis. She had planned to steal one of the many ancient boats which rested in the city's harbor, for though they were quite old, either their design or some unseen magic had kept them afloat for many thousands of years. However, this plan seemed pointless if Zelda and Link were both dead. How would she recover the treasure then? And what of her personal effects, which she had left behind on the Gorgoru caterpillar? All the shards they had already recovered were in Scarlett's belt pouch, which, presumably, Zelda and the others still had.
It was a dilemma, but what could she do? She sat there beside the boy, pressing down with all her might on the gushing wound. If he died she would go and search for the others, but until then she would wait with bated breath… perhaps they were nearby? It would be quite unlike the boy to stray too far from his princess.
After a few minutes, Scarlett was having trouble tracking Link's shallow breathing. Every so often, she would murmur words of encouragement to the boy that were practically curses in their own right. She had never been good at sympathy, but it was true that she cared very deeply if the boy lived or died. Sure, her reasons may not have been what most would consider appropriate or selfless, but they were hers. He was her last chance, and she knew it. He needed to survive, otherwise everything she'd worked so hard to realize would become meaningless.
"Don't die, you little idiot!" shouted Scarlett, "You hear me? Don't die!"
Suddenly, there came a noise from the far end of the chamber. Scarlett tried to crouch as low as she could, attempting to make herself look smaller, to conceal her and Link's shapes amongst the rubble. A moment later, a shining bright light emerged from some previously unseen portal in the shadows near the end of the hall. It was as if someone was shining a kerosene lamp into her eyes, and Scarlett could not tell who wielded the strange light.
"Is there anyone there?"
Scarlett recognized the voice immediately: Zelda!
"Aye, and not a moment too soon, Your Majesty!" barked the pirate, "Now get that light out of my eyes and get your Goddess-blessed arse over here! Your lad is bleeding out, and I don't know how much time we have."
"… Scarlett?!"
Zelda lowered her light arrow, and by the pale illumination of the sun filtering in from the hollow tube in the ceiling, Scarlett and the princess saw one another. It took Scarlett a moment to recognize Zelda. Though she wore the same white dress and chain shirt which the Gorons of Diamondhearth had provided her, they were scuffed and caked with mud and grime, the hem of the dress tattered and damp with the strange liquids that pooled on the temple floor. Her eyes were different, full of fire and steadfast determination. In the mere hours it had been since Scarlett last saw the girl, she had transformed completely! In her hands was an ornate and curled bow of yew, inlaid with golden swirls and triangles. The arrow that was notched in it pulsed with holy light, the source of the lamp that had blinded her. Most disturbing to Scarlett, however, was the way her own sword dangled at Zelda's side, as if it had accepted a new master.
There was no time for Scarlett to remark on this. Zig and Gwen had appeared at her side, and when the younger pirate saw her captain she gasped and burst to tears.
"Oh, Eva!" cried Gwen, rushing forward and embracing Scarlett, "I thought you were gone! I couldn't bear it. Don't ever do that to me again! I was all alone, and I couldn't have possibly gone back without you."
"Ms. Gwendolin," said Scarlett, hard as nails, "While I appreciate your sentiment, you should know better. Quit your crying, right now, and remember your station."
"Oh…" said Gwen, forcing herself into composure, "Right… right… Captain! It's just good to see you alive."
"No time for warm reunions," said Scarlett, "This boy is bleeding out. We have to do something at once. Zelda, now would be a good time to work that magic of yours."
"Link!" cried Zelda, dropping her quiver and arrows, and falling to her knees beside the boy, "What happened to you? Oh, Goddess!"
"Quickly now, princess," urged Scarlett.
"But I need sunlight," said Zelda, "We have to get him outside, right away!"
"How far down is it?"
"About ten minutes at a run," said Zig.
"Damn," said Scarlett, "We don't have that long. How much sunlight do you need?"
"Any at all, it just has to be direct," replied Zelda, "Even a sliver would work."
"Over there," said Scarlett, nodding towards the gruesome throne where the strange bones were sitting, "There's a shaft, goes all the way up to the sky. Should work, right?"
Scarlett lifted the boy into her arms, and together she and Zelda dashed over to the throne. Scarlett sat Link upon it, in the lap of the gruesome Skeleton, and Zelda knelt beside him, launching right into her healing prayer,
"Mother Goddess, keeper of the light of creation, Our Lady Hylia, please give the gift of life to this brave soul. In your glorious name, so it be."
The blinding golden flash of Zelda's magic momentarily saturated the room, and when it faded Link's wound had disappeared. Peachy flesh, unblemished by blood and without scars, peeked through the rent hole in his tattered tunic. His breathing had deepened, and the color had returned to his cheeks. Zelda and Scarlett watched expectantly as his eyes fluttered open, watching them through a half-lidded daze.
"Zelda? Scarlett?" said Link, sounding perplexed, "Did it work? Are we really awake?"
The princess took the boy's cheeks in her hands, caressing his cherubic face lovingly. She had no words, no thoughts to express her joy. Tears gathered in her big, blue eyes. Her body took over. She was kissing him before she even realized she meant to.
She didn't care that the pirates were watching. His lips were warm against hers. He was alive!
She wouldn't lose him again.