Chapter 10: Echo of a Long Gone Forest
Zelda could not speak. She could barely breathe.
With no response to draw further mockery from, Ganondorf just scoffed and turned his attention towards the wizzrobe and monsters staring at him with confusion and anger. He had the Triforce – their Triforce – and that kept them from lashing out, but they didn't know what to make of him, stranger as he was.
"Ah yes. I know."
Chuckling, Ganondorf took a few steps over into the open area beneath the throne's stair. The low, raw sound sent cold lightning down Zelda's spine. She felt the stalfos' fingers on her arms shudder, which was strange enough to catch her attention briefly – but only for a fraction of a second, then she was numb again. The only thing she saw was Ganondorf.
All of Qiral's little jabs and morbid humor, always just on the edge of acceptable – she saw it now for what it had been. Him watching from behind that mask, heckling her at every opportunity, laughing at her failure to see through the disguise. But how could she have? He should have been dead, he should have been too proud for such a mask, he had been right there in the same room as the Queen and done nothing!
Ganondorf clenched his right fist and little glowing shards flared out from the mark on the back of his hand as darkness whirled up around his feet. As the two forces met, the meager specks of light flickered and were absorbed into the dark, flashing like lightning in the black. He swelled up once again, more violently than when casting the illusion of Qiral aside. Skin turning a sickly bluish black as nails turned to claws, eyes sinking, nose flattening, spreading, jaw widening as tusks protruded from his lips. In a moment there was a nightmarish boar-like behemoth.
It wasn't an illusion, the raw power flowing from his presence was staggering, made the air heavy, made hair stand on end.
Every single one of the monsters fell to their knees, crying out their King's glory. Only one remained silent and still. The stalfos didn't move, but Zelda only distantly realized it stood as frozen as she was.
After a few seconds, however, the vortex of darkness began to subside and the monstrous form withdrew into the man with dark skin and red hair once more. As everything stilled around him, Ganondorf cracked his neck and let out a frustrated sigh.
"Being killed and returned robbed me of the power the combined Triforce once granted me," he said. "This is what I was in the distant past. It must do for now."
"My King… we… you…." The wizzrobe struggled for words, prostrate on the floor.
"Stand up."
They scrambled to obey, shock and confusion still making all of them unsteady.
"Is he awake in there?" Ganondorf asked, eying the crystal on the other side of the room.
The wizzrobe cleared his throat, forced by circumstance to pull himself together and make everything presentable in his master's sudden presence.
"Probably, my King," the wizzrobe said. "It was an, ah— we had to think of something quick. He is alive, that is certain."
"Excellent. And it keeps him quiet, as well."
The wizzrobe and even the other monsters nodded vigorously at the last part. Ganondorf chuckled.
"Not quite as I had planned it since the boy lost his compass," he said. "I meant to have the wolf lead him into a trap." He looked at his troops and deigned to give them a nod of acknowledgement. "But it appears everything fell into place regardless. You have done well."
"Oh my King, we are truly honored…"
The wizzrobe bowed deep, mumbling a litany of flattering drivel. He was probably relieved beyond sanity that he had not said anything insulting about his King earlier – and doubly so that he had made it clear that the mere idea of turning something like his crystal trap against his master was abhorrent to him.
Zelda couldn't think. A buzz filled her ears, like distant screams threatening to move from her memory into reality once more. She had to get out get out get out GET OUT
"The Queen is worried about her Hero," Ganondorf said. "However she has no idea where he is, and time is on our side. I will need messengers prepared." He paused. "But first…"
He turned around, eyes narrowing at the gaggle of moblins.
"Which one of you punched me?" Ganondorf asked, black fire dancing in the palm of his hand.
The beast men recoiled, babbling guttural reassurances of "not me, not me!". They stumbled over each other, each one pointing at another as the black flames and Ganondorf's scowl grew.
It was a perfect distraction.
Zelda twisted, kicking at the stalfos's exposed knee. The skeletal limb bent and the undead toppled, crashing down in a clattering heap of bone and armor.
She was free.
Ganondorf turned around.
Zelda flung all her smoke bombs to the floor, and as they shattered they exploded with stinging mist. Roaring coughs filled the air and furry or scaly hands blindly scrabbled for Zelda as she dashed past the group of moblins, holding her breath best she could. But she could not keep from gasping halfway through, and tears began streaming down her face before she could reach the exit.
She swiped at her eyes, staggering the last few steps. A sharp pain shot through her shoulder as she stumbled and hit the edge of the doorway.
"Stalfos! Bring her back!"
Ganondorf's voice cut through the whimpering and snarling of the many beastmen.
Zelda dove into the tunnel, still rubbing at her eyes to stop the flood of blinding tears. Behind her, the sound of heavy, rattling steps began its chilling rhythm. The smoke was nothing to the undead.
She rushed on, ever upwards, sight clearing bit by bit. Shadows appeared before her, scaly hands reached out. She drew blades and stabbed, threw darts, dropped needle balls as she ducked past surprised creatures. Heard the shrieks as if through water, far away, like a fever dream.
But the clatter of the stalfos's footfalls rung in her ears.
Daylight flared far ahead. She dashed through the darkness – and into a storm.
Winds heavy with blistering sand whipped at her and she pulled her mask up to protect her face. The shocking change from hot darkness to the violent sandstorm ripped her back from the worst panic, enough to at least let her formulate a basic plan.
She ran towards what she hoped was the east, along the cliffs. If she could just get into the labyrinth of Death Mountain, she should be able to lose the stalfos. Then she could—
Dark shadows moved in the storm ahead of her – lots of them. The wind carried a fraction of hissing voices.
She turned and ran into the desert.
A horrible idea, she knew that even in her frenzy to get away, but all other paths were blocked. For the moment she needed to survive. Ganondorf had no reason to keep Link alive – Hyrule had to take up arms once again without him. If she could at least warn the Queen they might have a little time to prepare for war, while the monster army was still divided.
She ran.
Her feet sank into the sand, and the storm filled her vision as she squinted, holding up a hand to protect her eyes best she could. It was nearly impossible to see. Then the ground disappeared in front of her and she fell, unable to hold back a shriek.
Instincts kicked in and she curled, rolling down the dune. Even after she came to a stop it took a few seconds before she could move, uncurling and expecting a sharp pain from a joint at any moment. But there was only the smart of impacts, nothing broken.
Shaking, she pushed herself up on her knees and strained her eyes at the sand hill that she had fallen down. The wind ripped her scarf and strands of hair free from her head and whipped them around her face. She moved to at least tie the cloth back, but her hands froze halfway up.
The stalfos crested the dune. It came from far more left than she had thought the underground stronghold was, hinting just how lost she had already gotten in the storm. Zelda did not have time to reflect on that. She scrambled to her feet and fled onwards.
Her legs ached. The sand seemed to grasp for her feet, and the wind peppered her with thousands of painful pin pricks every moment. In the back of her mind she noticed that the storm seemed to be slowing a bit, but she knew that it mattered very little.
More shadows appeared ahead of her, too tall to be monsters. Coming closer, she saw that they were palm trees, at the edge of an oasis. The wind tore at the leaves and muddled the water, spreading sand into it.
Every muscle in her body burned. Her throat was dry, every breath painful.
She couldn't run anymore.
A large rock jutted out of the sand near the edge of the oasis and she staggered towards it, crashing against the rough surface. At least, it offered some shelter from the storm.
But the wind was the least of her problems.
Zelda unsteadily turned, drawing a dagger with each hand. They wouldn't be able to do a thing, but it gave her some comfort to hold them. A shred of sanity shouted about the Queen's bow perhaps being useful. It was there, then gone again.
The stalfos emerged from the whipping sand, steady and tireless.
If only it had been a moblin, she might have outwitted it. The best she could hope for with the stalfos would be that it killed her. She embraced that possibility over the alternative.
I can turn the daggers on myself.
The thought was there, the ice cold knowledge that had chased away the memory of the magical bow. That would amuse Ganondorf, but she would not have to see him triumph, not suffer as a part of his cruel celebration again.
So easy, just…
The end result would be the same.
Yet…
This was not what Impa had prepared her for. They had trained, and promised, to never, ever give up until the very bitter end.
The stalfos was almost upon her.
Zelda pressed herself against the rock, hands shaking as she raised the daggers and moved her feet into a defensive stance.
The stalfos stopped.
Zelda tensed, waiting for it to strike.
But before her eyes the undead reached under its chest plate, and from the depths of its own ribcage it withdrew a blue item. Silently, the stalfos cradled the treasure in its skeletal hands, holding it out to her.
It was cracked down the smooth middle, but still in one piece, and she would have recognized it even if it had been broken in two.
The daggers fell from her numb fingers.
The Ocarina of Time.
Sheer shock made Zelda take a step forwards. In the next moment she realized what she was doing, and recoiled.
"Stop mocking me, Ganondorf!" she rasped out.
She snatched the daggers from the ground, swallowing against the raw lump forming in her throat. He must be watching through this undead slave. It just seemed so pointless. What purpose did this petty cruelty even serve, now?
She didn't know, but she also didn't put it beneath him to toy with her still.
The stalfos regarded her for a moment. Then it sunk down on one knee, still holding the ocarina towards her.
"I don't even have the Triforce!" Zelda shrieked. Tears swelled in her burning eyes. "What do you want?"
As gently as if it had been a baby bird, the stalfos placed the ocarina on the ground. Then it reached out with its hand and dipped a sharp, bone fingertip in the sand, starting to write.
Z
The wind erased the letters before it was halfway finished with one, but still the stalfos persisted. And Zelda stared, following its motions with hypnotized eyes.
It used its left hand to write.
E
L
D
A
She swallowed hard, pinched her eyes shut. Shook her head.
"No… no… no, prove it," she rasped.
Straightening its back, the stalfos picked up the ocarina. Only a petrified grin remained of what had once been a face, but the instrument was also impossible to play in its broken state. Instead, the undead just held the ocarina there and moved his bone fingers up and down, miming playing the melody.
Even without sound, Zelda knew the gestures by heart.
He was silently performing the Song of Time.
Zelda's legs gave away and she crashed down in the sand, staring at him. The storm was fading around them, and she barely noticed. The daggers slid out of her hands once again, thumping into the sand.
"Link…"
Her voice sounded papery and strange in her ears.
Lowering the ocarina, the stalfos nodded.
"You're… you're too tall," Zelda stammered, the disbelief still clinging to her.
She didn't want him to be this cursed creature.
But she desperately needed it to be him.
He put the ocarina aside and touched his chest plate, then hooked both his hands into claws and raised them with a shuddering motion, charading a growing rage or anguish. Zelda pressed a hand to her eyes, forgetting that it left her vulnerable. If this had been a trap after all, he could have easily lashed out and struck true.
But he did nothing.
"The… the black magic fed on your sorrow and…" she muttered, remembering what Qiral – Ganondorf – had said about the size of stalfoses. And of course he would know.
Between her fingers she saw Link move again, and she lowered her hands. He drew a little closer to the rock, sheltered from the fading wind. Zelda didn't try to move away, only watched him as he began to write in the sand once more.
They threw my body in Kokiri forest
Zelda felt a strange pang of relief. At least, then his hideous transformation wasn't because of Ganondorf's magic. She studied him and thought that perhaps, then, this sad state was the forest's desperate attempt to salvage the Hero and give him a second chance.
It was a fluttering hope, but too terrible for her to say it aloud.
"And then…?" she asked.
Saria found me. I could still speak then
"What… happened to her?" Zelda wondered, unsure if she really wanted to know.
Link paused for a moment before dipping his hand into the sand again.
Fire
Zelda closed her eyes, shoulders slumping. It wasn't surprising, but it was still painful to learn about it. As painful as it was for him to tell.
He continued. Unconsciously, Zelda moved closer to see the words better.
I wandered. Confused. Searched. For you.
She was right beside him now. Link's hand moved slower, like it hurt him to write.
I failed all of you
"No," Zelda hoarsely said, gazing up at his unmoving face. "We all failed. It wasn't… we… I…"
Her hand fumbled over his. The raw bone felt rough against her skin but the need to touch him, to show him that she didn't blame him, that he didn't frighten her now that she knew it was him, was stronger than the instinct to recoil.
At first he was still as a statue.
He reached out, hesitated, then hooked a fingertip at the edge of her mask and pulled it down. Zelda felt the turban wrapped around her head slipping as well, coming completely loose from the abuse it had endured during her flight. She shook it off, reached out. He drew her in and they crashed in the sand.
This is completely insane, whispered a shred of common sense deep down in her whirling mind.
She didn't care, hands blindly, frantically stroking the skeleton arms, the exposed spine at his neck, his hard, pale cheekbones and the sun warmed chest plate he pressed her against. He was more careful, aware of his chilling state, and just combed his fingers through her dissolving braid and caressed her back.
"You must have been so alone…" Zelda whispered, gazing into the emotionless hollows where his eyes should have been – one dark, one a red glow.
Her heart ached, didn't even want to think about all the years he had spent like this. She had woken up only a few weeks ago, and been surrounded by kind people for most of that time. As lost and lonely as she had still felt, it was nothing to what he must have gone through.
Slowly, he nodded.
A realization struck.
"Was it you who made sure they found me while I slept?" she asked.
He seemed to hesitate. Then he gently pushed her away and started writing again.
Impa got you out. She was old when I found you.
A pause.
She never forgave me.
Zelda winced, but she wasn't surprised. Her— their Impa wasn't the kind old lady of this age, but a hardened soldier with an unbending will and sense of duty. She would not have any mercy on a fallen Hero, especially not one who failed her Princess.
Link continued to write.
She sealed you in to keep you safe. It took me years to break through. After she died.
"What was going on in the land at that time?" Zelda wondered.
War. I could move freely amongst Ganondorf's troops. I
Pause.
could have tried. But I hadn't
He stopped and brushed the last word away.
I didn't have the Master Sword anymore.
She glanced at the simple, rusted scabbard hanging on his back by a worn leather belt. As Link moved, the scabbard dully clattered against the metal rings securing it. The sword grip sticking out of it looked even worse, chipped and dirty. The blade could not be in any better shape.
"No, and you couldn't defeat him without it. It's not your fault," Zelda said.
He looked at her.
It hung heavily between them – he had not been able to win even with the Master Sword.
She bit her lip, let her head drop. Finally, finally… it had burned her every waking moment, in the back of her mind, that she could never, ever tell him or anybody else who had been lost and yet here he was, right before her and so changed, so hurt and…
"It was my fault. I'm so so— I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked. "I saw it— where he knocked it out of your hand, it landed but— I couldn't, the fire, but I should have, there must have— I—"
A sob tore apart her broken rambles and she pressed both hands to her mouth, pinching her eyes shut. Tears streamed down her cheeks, tears of two centuries' worth of impossible, worthless apologies that couldn't repair a thing.
"If I only— could have…"
She continued to mumble as he drew her in, words disappearing into a meaningless groan against his chest plate. His dry chin bone rested against the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her, rough, hard skeleton limbs alien against her body but it was the only thing that felt real in that moment.
How long they sat like that, she didn't know. But eventually, Link moved his arm and carefully pushed her away. As she sat there in a daze, he pulled the water flask from her belt and held it up to her. Zelda rubbed her eyes, silently admitting to the burn in her throat and beginning headache that signaled dehydration. Without a second thought she emptied the entire flask.
Lowering it, she squinted at Link.
He gazed down at her and slowly shook his head. As she watched, he raised his left hand in a fist, then slammed his other hand against it. The left hand lurched back, fingers spreading. He didn't have to write it out.
It wasn't your fault. I lost the Master Sword.
Zelda opened her mouth to protest, but the water soothed the worst roaring in her whirling mind and she remembered that there were worse things to deal with. Closing her lips she rubbed her aching temples, forcing herself to snap out of it. They would get nowhere arguing about whose fault it was, and time was a luxury that they didn't have.
"We can fight over this later," she said, her voice firmer than it had been since the capture.
She put her hand over his bony fingers and looked him in the hollow eyes.
"But right now, Ganondorf has two pieces of the Triforce. I wanted to try to warn the Queen, but without the Hero and the Master Sword that might not matter." She took his hand between hers. "This time, we will save Hyrule."
He closed his other hand around hers and nodded.
If he had lips, his smile might have mirrored hers.
In any other situation, Zelda would have realized that this was self-righteous and foolish, but in that moment she was not herself, and neither was Link. There was far too much regret and misery in their pasts to allow them to back down, now that there was a second chance.
"There is no way Ganondorf knows it's you, correct?" she said. "He would not have sent you after me if so."
Link shook his head.
"Then…"
Zelda opened her satchel and rummaged around in its magical depths.
"… getting close enough to strike will be easy," she said, a flash of madness in her eyes.
She pulled out a roll of rope.