Chapter 12:
The true ruler of the Twili stood in the midst of the Council Of Elders, a delegation of seven wise old minds who guided and aided the Twili royalty. The chamber was octagonal and brightly lit, and busts of great rulers from centuries past were strewn about. The saturated light from the world outside filtered in through high, dusty windows and cast the occupants in a hazy sheen of orange, red and purple. Neon green and blue designs were etched into the walls and railings and also adorned the spiked palisades which crowned the roof of the building, visible from the royal castle.
They were seated on their stone daises, looking down upon her as she stood before them.
"We shall now convene," spoke the First Consul. Each member of the Council Of Elders was designated a number, one through seven, based on length of service and experience. When one member died or was otherwise removed from office, and a new one was instated, he was titled the Seventh Consul. The remaining members all moved up in rank. Each successive rank was a place of higher honor, but they all swore fealty to the royal family.
"This is most irregular," Midna noted. "Our next council was not scheduled for a fortnight."
"Forgive the abruptness of the call, Your Grace, but there are a few matters we felt were important to discuss right away," explained the Third Consul.
"Such as?" inquired Midna. She was tired from a long day of audience with the commoners, listening to concerns and complaints, as was customary once a month. It had been a long and trying day, and her curtness betrayed her weariness.
"To begin, the royal coffers are dangerously low after the repairs to the Sorrel Keep in the provincial sector," said the Fifth Consul. "Our Master of Coin was not frugal in the expenses."
"And little surprise," added the Seventh Consul. "That Keep was his father's namesake." Midna yawned.
"Another matter to discuss are the preparations for the upcoming feast for the Honor Guard inauguration, which will also surely tax our finances," reminded the Second Consul.
"And we have various offices that need appointed," the Third Consul continued. "The Master at Arms of the recruit training grounds has resigned, as has the caretaker in the castle rookery, among others."
"All of these offices suddenly need filled?" Midna said, surprised. The Third Consul nodded. She hesitated a moment before saying, "Indeed these are matters that require attention, but honestly… this could have waited until morning."
The Council exchanged furtive glances.
"Something else is amiss," Midna said. It was not a question.
"Your Grace, we must explain the full extent of the situation," the Second Consul said carefully. "It is not random happenstance that these positions were vacated so recently. There is some sordid speculation circulating about… rumors, you might say, some of which has frightened the common folk and the bureaucracy alike."
Midna wrinkled her nose. "What sort of rumors?"
"The kind that whisper of doom and calamity… leveraged against the Royal House of the Twili," said the First Consul softly.
She was confused for a moment. "Do you speak of conspiracy against us? Have we been threatened?"
"No, Your Grace," said the Fourth Consul. "It's not so blatant a charge. But it must needs be investigated."
"Why?" she demanded, irritated. "What is the source of these rumors?"
"You recall the gypsy women of Toth, who it is said can peer into things that have yet come to pass and see the truth of the future," explained the Fourth Consul. "They have foreseen it. They decreed that a time of great peril is nigh, and a plague from the World of Light shall descend unto the Royal House and bring murder and suffering. They say that it will begin with the royalty, and then sweep to the commons as well, bringing an age of unrest and despair."
And then she burst out laughing. "And what, pray tell, gives these gypsy women such credit that it would scare you all silly and frighten these people into desertion?"
"They say that none are safe. And Your Grace, their predictions have been accurate before," warned the First Consul.
"Is that so?" Midna asked lazily, unimpressed.
"We did not think it wise to handle such a prophecy lightly," said the Fourth Consul.
Midna fidgeted restlessly where she stood. "I shan't be daunted by the murmurs of old crones who dwell a hundred leagues from civilization in mud huts and straw stables," she said sourly.
"And you do not think it warrants investigation?" asked the Second Consul. "I implore you, princess, at the very least send a messenger to question the gypsies. Perchance they can reveal more of what they have seen. Or they may admit to a lie if we press them."
"It doesn't concern us," Midna said in a tone which brooked no argument. "We will only respond to threats on our kingdom that are real and tangible. If this is all you summoned me here to say, then I submit myself disappointed. Is there anything else?"
The Elders were not satisfied, but they knew that no good would come of arguing with the princess. They were very respected members of the court, and they were granted certain magics and special abilities with their position, but in the end they did not make executive decisions. They had no choice but to relent.
"There is only one other trifling matter," the Third Consul said curtly. "It is best that you know that Zant made a bid for the throne."
"Zant?" Midna repeated quizzically. "On what grounds?"
"A very long and dutiful record of service to the royal family," the Second Consul informed her. "He approached us and tried to garner our support. But we saw through his greed."
"He does not yearn for the throne for the opportunity to serve and better the Twili people… he only lusts for power and conquest," added the Sixth Consul.
"More importantly, he has no claim," Midna said wearily.
"And so we told him in no uncertain terms," the Third Consul assured her. "Yet he was very insistent, even as we had him escorted from the hall."
"You had him kicked out?" Midna said, surprised.
"He became very agitated when we denied his claim… he began to scream and fuss, hurling insults and curses. We had no choice but to have him removed," the Fourth Consul explained.
"He always was a conniving little sneak," Midna said, yawning. "It should come as no surprise that he tried to usurp my throne. I shall deal with him on the morrow." The Council of Elders all stood. "Goodnight, friends. We shall discuss your other concerns tomorrow as well," she promised.
"Very good, Your Grace," replied the First Consul as they all bowed to her. She then turned and left the hall.
The Council of Elders waited until she was gone, and then resumed their seats on their stone daises. All knew what the others were thinking, and it didn't need to be said. Their princess was a good ruler, fair and just, but she did not always have a head for political matters. She was brash and impulsive, and did not always listen to wise counsel.
"Friends, can we truly gamble the safety of the kingdom on such a hasty decision?" asked the Second Consul.
"Princess Midna does not wish to humor the gypsy women of Toth and their prophecy," the First Consul said rigidly. "The decision is hers, and hers alone."
"Mayhap we should send an investigator of our own," offered the Sixth Consul.
"In direct defiance of Her Grace?" retorted the First Consul.
"The man would go in our name and fly our standard. Surely we have the resources and authority to mount a small investigation should we deem it wise," the Sixth Consul reasoned.
The First Consul considered this. "It is true, we would be breaking no code," he admitted. "Though I daresay that Her Grace shall not like it nonetheless."
"That's one possibility," said the Fourth Consul. "Another is that we may find evidence of great danger for our kingdom, and she'll thank us for our foresight."
"Another valid point," the First Consul admitted. He paused, deep in thought, torn between his loyalty to his princess and his better judgement. After a time, he rose from his dais. " Very well," he relented. "On the morrow we shall send a personal messenger to Toth. If danger such as we have discussed does loom, pray we are not too late, companions. Council adjourned."
The remaining Council of Elders stood, gathering papers and quills, and broke into smaller conversations. They were not far from their daises when a sinister chuckle erupted from a dark corner of the chamber and froze the blood in their veins.
Slowly they turned, wide eyed and rigid, and peered into the darkness from where the sound had originated. Before their eyes, the blackness melted from the corner and began to glow, a dark piercing blue which mingled with the midnight black and oozed forth until it began to take shape. The features formed slowly; a wicked, menacing face, carved in iron with a pointed cap. Zant melted from the shadows and rose, dark and hateful and splendidly malicious. He was bedecked in black robes with blue designs, a pale red tabard, and an iron breastplate studded with rubies.
All seven of the Council Of Elders remained firmly rooted to the spot. They recognized him from his voice, and yet, they did not, for he seemed an entirely different person. Where once he was lanky and slim, he now seemed tall and stately. Where once he was meager and loth, he now seemed powerful and confident. And where once there may have resided the tiniest nugget of decency… there was now only anger and scorn, rotten to the core.
He approached slowly, nonchalantly. The First Consul took a small step forward. "Zant, what is the meaning of this?" he asked in a disquieted tone. The other members of the council began to form up behind him, but he waved them back. As the First Consul, his magics were the strongest.
"I think you know," Zant replied, his iron mask expressionless. "After our last meeting, I was left somewhat… unsatisfied. I've come to renegotiate."
"We have nothing to discuss," the First Consul said angrily. "You have no claim to the throne. Be gone from this place, or we shall have you arrested!"
"But you haven't heard my offer," Zant replied, sounding hurt. "I think you'll find it most appealing. You see, I've thought long and hard about this situation, and I think we can strike a bargain that we will both find beneficial."
"What madness are you speaking of?" the First Consul asked, growing more frightened. He was versed in the ways of battle, and he could feel the power emanating from Zant. How in the world had he suddenly grown so powerful? He was a completely different person.
Zant chuckled. "My offer is simple. You bend the knee, swear fealty to me, and style me your lord, liege protector, and rightful king. In exchange, I'll allow your heads to remain on your necks," he said, his laughter growing more raucous as he finished.
The council members were stunned at this threat, but the First Consul was steadfast. "Zant, whatever power has consumed you, it will corrupt you from the inside out. You must not allow it. You must expunge it before it is too late," he warned, already trying to think of a way to escape the chamber.
"Foolish words from a foolish old man," Zant said, bored.
"Look at what you've become, Zant. You're losing your mind. This is why the power of our ancestors was bound into the Fused Shadows and hidden away. Such things are not meant for mortal men. Absolute power corrupts absolutely."
"Of course… the Gods have finally smiled on Zant and given him his due, yet according to the ramblings of some old bag of bones, he should give it up," Zant said, growing angry. "I see through your feeble attempt to distill my anger with words of sagely wisdom." He raised two fingers to the air, the index and middle, stiff as a board and glowing with magic. Quick as a cat, he swiped through the air and cut a swath three inches long. The First Consul winced as a deep cut appeared on his cheek. Instantly, a streak of deep crimson appeared and trickled down his neck.
"Wha… what… " the Second Consul gasped. The Fifth Consul began a sprint towards Zant, but a moment later he was knocked back by a powerful shockwave and crashed into a stone dais. The rock crumbled to pieces and showered him in dust and granite.
"Wait your turn, fool," Zant said with a snicker. He turned his attention back to the First Consul and raised his hand once more. "This is the only opportunity I shall give you. Say that I am your king, or I have no use for you."
The First Consul wiped the blood from his cheek. "You are no true king. I have no words of allegiance for you."
"So be it!" shouted Zant as he traced a wide, sweeping arc through the air. The First Consul shuddered and closed his eyes, waiting for the bite of the cut…
… But it never came.
When he opened his eyes, a purple and black magical barrier shielded his face. He looked around wildly, confused, and spotted Princess Midna standing in the entrance to the chamber, out of breath from summoning a powerful barrier so quickly. She was wide eyed and startled.
"Ah, the princess has arrived. Perfect timing, Midna. You're just in time to watch me claim what is rightfully mine," Zant said excitedly. "Oh, and an execution."
"Your Grace, how did you…?" the First Consul asked, too stunned to finish his sentence.
"The Fifth Consul spoke to me through magic and bid me return as quickly as I could," she explained. "He said Zant was here, with some kind of new, powerful magic. I scarcely believed him…" she trailed off.
Zant laughed and his iron helm floated off his head and dissolved into the air, exposing his face. His eyes were full of sin and mischief. "It's true, Midna. I'm here… real and tangible." He snickered. "My new God has seen my worth, and granted me the power to bring my visions to reality. You shall all bend to my will, one way or another." He began to move toward the princess. "So long did I toil and suffer in your service, with no promise of rewards or payment of anything that was owed me. You laughed and mocked when I asked for what was mine. You threw me from the castle and kicked me when I was down. I hate you all. 'No claim,' you said." Suddenly, he flung an arm out at Midna and she flew into the air, suspended and suffocating, utterly helpless under his control. She struggled against his power, but it was no use. "I have a claim for you now. I claim myself King of the Twili, ruler of the realm and lord of this world. Do you dispute my claim now!"
"You'll never… be… the true… ruler… the people… will take up… the cry…" she choked out between gasped breaths.
"Their cries will catch in their dead throats, just like those of their princess," he said with an evil grin.
Suddenly there was a crash, and a magical blue staff splintered over Zant's head. He barely felt it. He turned around and found the First Consul holding the shaft of the broken weapon, rigid with fear. Zant grinned and flung Midna against the wall where she landed with a sickening thud and crumbled to the ground.
Zant turned and grabbed the First Consul by the neck. He shoved him roughly to his knees, and then pushed his head down until he put up his hands to break his fall. There he sat on all fours, completely helpless.
"Very gallant, First Consul," Zant said, laughing sickly. "But ultimately futile. None of you seem to understand that I've obtained the penultimate power. I've given you ample chance to submit to my rule, but you've been very foolish. You shall be the first example." He raised two fingers, glowing with energy.
"Zant… don't," Midna pleaded.
"You are all dust in the winds of change. Be gone, and never return!"
"DON'T!" she screamed.
He sliced through the air, the purple magic in his fingers leaving a beautiful trace in their wake, and the First Consul's head rolled across the floor, leaving an ugly smear of crimson red.
Midna gasped, and the tears came unbidden to her eyes. The remaining Council of Elders were stunned into silence. They could not move, nor speak, nor think. Their leader's head came to a halt only feet from where they stood in a line, his eyes glazed and his tongue lolling from his mouth. He stared at them blankly.
Zant grinned and turned back to Midna. "And thus we are rid of that dotty old nuisance," he said nonchalantly. "Now, where were we?"
"You bastard!" Midna shrieked. She leapt to her feet and hurled a magical curse at him, but he lazily batted it away like a moth. "How dare you! You'll answer for this if it's my last act as Princess of the Twili! I swear it by the old gods and the new!"
"Petty princess," Zant replied. "Your last act was ignoring the warning from the gypsy women, like the fool you are. Not that there was anything you could have done anyway." He lifted her up with his magic once more, and once more she began to gasp for air. "I grow tired of this. It's time for action. Unlike you, I'm going to be an incredible ruler. The Twili will no longer sit complacent and stagnant. The empire will expand, and we will take back what was once ours. The world of light shall tremble when my army marches on them."
"You… you can… open… the portal…?" Midna choked.
"Indeed," Zant said merrily, his big yellow eyes flashing in happiness. "I've told you already; I've been chosen by the absolute power in the universe. I no longer have barriers or limits. The only thing holding back the Twilight now is our own weakness, which I'm about to expunge." He drew back his hand, two fingers rigid with magic, and prepared a cut. Midna waited with bated breath. The Council of Elders looked away, horrified…
"No," Zant said after a moment. "It's too quick. Too easy. This won't do." He released her from his grip and she fell to the ground, sucking in mouthfuls of air. "You shan't die yet. It's odd. I have every desire to kill you, yet at the same time I want you to live." Midna looked up at him, confused. "I want to have fun with you before you die. I want to make you weak and helpless. I want to humiliate you. I want you to be a rat in a box for my enjoyment."
"You're sick," she said miserably. "I swear, you'll pay for this…"
"I think not," he replied casually. He waved his hand and a black, energized crystal appeared in front of him. "Here, my dear," he said as the crystal floated toward her. "You'll look better with this."
The crystal zoomed at her forehead and impaled her. She screamed as it sunk into her temple and her body was engulfed in black magic. The curse burrowed itself and disappeared, her scream turned into a wail, and a moment later the energy was gone and only a tiny imp remained.
Zant laughed maniacally, unable to contain his mirth. "You look ridiculous! I love it! The new Midna, beggar imp of the Twili!"
"What have you done!" she squealed.
"Hah! Your voice! You sound half a child!" Zant exclaimed.
She lay helpless on the stone floor as the remnants of the spell dissipated, leaving her shivering and sweating. "Make no mistake," she murmured, her voice quavering. "You should kill me now. If you don't, it'll be the biggest mistake of your life." Her face was a study in contempt.
"Come now, imp," Zant replied. "You should be grateful. It's the first gift from your new king. The first of many." He laughed again. "Oh, this is wonderful. I'm so enthralled, I think I may even spare the lives of those other old fools… for now."
The remaining Council of Elders still stood near the corpse of their former leader, still as statues, feeling helpless and lost. At their mention, the Second Consul stepped forward meagerly. "You… you must answer for these crimes. By the power vested in me by the Royal Twili Family, I place you under arrest and hold you guilty of murder and treason." His words were strong, but his voice trembled.
"Don't spoil the mood, you grey old ghost of a man," Zant taunted. "You should be grateful. I'm extending your life a bit longer. And look!" He glided over and kicked the First Consul's head across the chamber, snickering all the way. "You've been promoted. You're the First Consul now, correct?"
The Second Consul was at a total loss for words or action. Nothing he could say or do would make any difference, and all in the room knew it. He had just resolved to surrender when an apparition appeared above Zant's head. It was a large, fiery red face, menacing and evil. When it spoke, the voice shook the walls and mustered images of death and destruction to all in the room.
"Zant, enough of this deliberation. It is time to begin our dark work," the apparition thundered.
"Yes… you're right, master. I've wasted enough time with these peons," Zant said.
Midna and the council watched helplessly as Zant summoned the portal to the world of light with a shout and a spectacular display of lights. The portal appeared across the chamber, radiating gold and white, light shimmering off the stone daises. The apparition retreated back into Zant, and his eyes flashed yellow and red, hungry to enter the portal. He began the trek across the chamber.
Without warning, three figures materialized in the room. They were strangers to Midna and the council, but something in Zant recognized them as Darkhava, Saruna and Malceran. He was surprised to see them, but he had only a moment to realize what was happening before his eyes turned red and Ganondorf seized control of his body.
"Well done," Darkhava said as he approached. "Our plan has come to fruition. After all these uncountable years… vengeance shall be ours."
"Yours, perhaps, but not theirs," Ganondorf answered through Zant's body, nodding towards Malceran and Saruna.
"What?" Malceran said icily. Ganondorf gave a flick of his palms, and a magical barrier instantly appeared around Malceran and Saruna, rooting them to the spot. They were frozen in place.
Ganondorf smiled at Darkhava smugly. "They were not part of the bargain. I agreed to allow you to come with me in exchange for guiding me to Zant, but they shall remain here."
"Madness!" Saruna screamed. "You cannot stop us!" She pulled back a fist, glowing with energy, and punched the field with all her might, but she only succeeded in sending out small ripples from the point of impact. She tried again, and again, but with no success.
"It seems I can," Ganondorf said tauntingly.
" We should have foreseen your betrayal," Malceran muttered.
"What you should have done was allowed me to assimilate with you," Ganondorf said to Darkhava. "We could have made a formidable team, and we'd have wasted less time. But your arrogance forbade it, and now you pay the price. Without your friends, your power is not complete. You may enter the world of light, but you will be a poor player in the wars to come. Or do you believe you can best me with just your own power?" he said, grinning wickedly.
Darkhava gritted his teeth. He believed he could, but he also knew the truth that his power was far greater when it was augmented by the pact with his companions. And more than anything else in the world… he wanted ultimate power, as much as he could obtain. Ganondorf knew this, and was playing off of that desire. Darkhava knew this, but there was little he could do about it.
"You're a pox ridden troll," he snarled at Ganondorf. "You'll die of a bloody flux when I'm done with you."
"I think that not very likely. It's true that your power is great. Perhaps you could even break my barriers, given enough time," he admitted. "But you have not the time. The portal closes behind me. Make your choice. And remember that I wield the power of divinity. If you follow me to the world of light and try to defy me, you will learn to your sorrow what true power is, ancient one." With that, he stepped through the portal and was gone from the Twilight.
"Damn you, Ganondorf!" Darkhava bellowed. He gave one last glance to his companions, still trapped in the barrier. They watched him, knowing what he would decide even before he did. And then he strode toward the portal. Suddenly, he found a magical barrier placed around himself. "What is this!" he screamed.
The remaining six members of the Council of Elders were formed up in a crescent behind Darkhava, arms reached out at him, faces strained, binding him where he stood with the best barrier spell they could muster. He roared in anger and began to beat the barrier from the inside out. The walls twisted and conformed to his punches. His fists glowed a deep blue as he swung.
"Your Grace!" shouted the Second Consul. "You must go now! Quickly, to the world of light! Warn the Royal Hylian Family! Seek the aid of the Goddesses, and repair the damage that has been done today! Hurry!"
Princess Midna was torn. "What about you?" she said, tears streaming down her face. The barrier around Darkhava was beginning to fold and collapse on itself. He kept punching with blind fury in his eyes.
"You cannot concern yourself with us now! There is no time, princess!" She still stood her ground. The portal began to shrink. "Please… you're our only hope, princess. You must not fail. Remember your people."
She let out an audible sob. "I promise I'll be back," she cried. "Tell the people, their princess will save them!" And finally, she flew towards the portal and disappeared into the world of light. The portal shrank even further.
At that same moment, Darkhava gave one more powerful thrust into the barrier, and the magic shattered and dissolved around him. The Council of Elders momentarily lost their balance from the force of the impact, but they quickly raised their arms once more and tried to erect another barrier. Darkhava gave an inhuman snarl, and with one wide, sweeping gesture, hurled a wall of black fire at all six men. The wall rushed to meet them and consumed them, searing their flesh, cursing them, and they screamed in agony. Darkhava did not wait to see if the spell was enough to kill them. He turned and was gone in a flash, disappearing through the portal just before it vanished forever.
The magical barriers around Malceran and Saruna dissolved, and they were left alone with the Council of Elders in the world of the Twili.
"And that, dear Link, is the story of how Ganondorf and Darkhava escaped to this world. I believe you know the tale from there," Rauru said, who had been relating this story to Link in his temple miles below the Gerudo Desert.
"I know of Ganondorf's part, yes, but what of Darkhava? Why has he been silent all this time, until now?" Link asked, trying to take it all in.
"He was simply weak, my boy," Rauru explained. "He is not like Midna and the other Twili. He is evil to the core. When he was exposed to this world, our yellow sun corrupted his life's blood and brought him near death. Our atmosphere suffocated him, much like the Twilight suffocated Ganondorf. All this time, he has been resting and gathering energy."
"Gathering energy?" Link asked, confused.
"Ask yourself why he has sent out seemingly random raiding parties to villages and towns. No pattern, no rhyme or reason."
"Because he loves chaos?"
"Yes, but he is not so petty as that. When his minions were murdering peasants, he was casting wide, area encompassing spells over the lands, siphoning the life energy of the dead for himself."
Link was shocked. "He… he can do something like that?"
"Indeed," Rauru said sadly. "All men are but pawns to him. He will embroil the land in the flames of war to obtain what he wants."
Link's head was pounding. "And that is…?"
"Why, I've already told you. Absolute power. His lust for strength is as strong as it was when he was first banished from this land. And when he obtains it, who can say what he will do? I suppose whatever strikes his fancy. Perhaps he will rule with an iron fist, bringing an age of hopelessness and despair to all the realm. Or perhaps he will just destroy it."
"I'll never let that happen," Link said sternly.
"I know, my boy," Rauru said. "And yet if we are to stop him, we have much work to do. Now, can you reason out his plan?"
"Well…" Link said hesitantly. "If he wants to obtain ultimate power… he'll need the Triforce."
"Don't jump to conclusions, Link, lest you forget that he hates the Goddesses and anything associated with them. He has had eons to stew in his hatred and misery. If he can obtain power any other way, he'll certainly do it."
"But the Triforce is the greatest power in the realm," Link said.
"Aye, but does he believe that?" Rauru asked.
Link felt half a fool. "No… he doesn't." He thought for a moment. "He believes his power, whatever dark magics he learned in the Twilight, are the greatest. But they are not complete without the power of his companions multiplying his own."
"That's right," Rauru said. "So logically, he'll want to free his companions from the Twilight."
"But in order to do that, he'll need the power of the Goddesses," Link said, growing more confused. "I thought he didn't want such power?"
"He doesn't," Rauru explained. "But he'll make use of one imbued with the power of the Goddesses if he needs to."
"But that means Zelda or myself, and neither of us can open the portal," reasoned Link. "Ganondorf is long dead." Rauru stared at him knowingly. "Isn't he?" Link asked cautiously.
"Yes, you sealed his fate on that fateful day," Rauru reassured him.
"Then how… does he know a resurrection spell? Is he going to bring him back from the dead?" Link cried, alarmed.
"Mayhap he knows such a spell, but reversing death is one of the most difficult things for any sorcerer to attempt, and it often ends with less than desirable results. There's a much easier way for him to obtain what he wants," Rauru explained.
Link began to grow frustrated with the riddle. "If you know his plan, won't you tell me?" he said with an edge in his voice.
"Chosen One, there are none more valiant in battle or more courageous in the face of danger than yourself, but if you're going to save Hyrule this time, you'll need wits as well as skills. Think, lad. I gave you the answer before."
Link ran the story over again in his mind, but nothing clicked into place. He stood and paced the room. "You said the story of the Hero Of Time would be relevant," he said, his mind racing. "In that time, Ganondorf was not sent to the Twilight Realm, but to the Sacred Realm… but that means…" And suddenly, it all made sense. "The Sacred Realm! It exists outside of time and dimension!"
"Yes!" cried Rauru. "You've got it!"
"And if Ganondorf was imprisoned there in another time and place, then it stands to reason… he could be there in our world as well. Like a shared hallway, accessed by two different doors."
"Exactly!" Rauru beamed.
"So for all intents and purposes… Ganondorf lives. He's not the same person I defeated, but it's him all the same. And if the Sacred Realm is opened…"
"Now you begin to see the grand picture," Rauru said. "Darkhava aims to release the Ganondorf from another time into our world, and use his powers to reopen the portal to the Twilight. In doing so, he can retrieve his friends and together they will form a peril the likes of which Hyrule has never seen."
"And then not only would we have the original interlopers to contend with, but Ganondorf would be back as well," Link murmured.
"And that would be more disastrous than any other outcome I can imagine," Rauru said quietly.
"But it all makes sense now," Link exclaimed. "Now we know his plan, and now we can stop him." He paused a moment. "But wait… how can he access the Sacred Realm?"
"He will needs two things," Rauru said as he carved another slice of Ordon Pumpkin pie. "He is not endowed with the power of the Goddesses, so he will need a powerful energy catalyst to bridge the gap between worlds. If my research is correct, the easiest way for him to obtain such a thing would be with the blood of royalty."
More comprehension dawned on Link. "So that's why they've been so obsessed with murdering Princess Zelda." He balled his fists. "The bastards. I won't allow it. Any of it." After another moment, he looked back to Rauru. "You said he would need two things. What is the other?"
"The key to the Sacred Realm," Rauru said softly. "The Master Sword."