Chapter 32: Perseverance

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Note: More Trial of the Sword! It was a fun challenge to think about an early-development version of the Trial of the Sword, and I had to keep in mind that Zonai Link here doesn't have a paraglider, the Sheikah Slate, or BotW Link's time-slowing abilities. Keeping that in mind, I changed some of the floors so that they would be at least somewhat doable for Zonai Link. Mostly the change was giving Link ladders up to the different platforms.

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Link

Link sprinted away from the Hinox, his heart in his throat, as it swung a massive fist towards him. He stumbled as the meaty blue appendage crashed into the ground, shockwaves emanating from the point of impact. Breathing hard, he spun on his heel and dashed towards it again, legs pumping possibly faster than they ever had as pure adrenaline surged through his body. He slashed at the inside of the creature's left knee – its right was already a bloodied mess. And then as it started to crumple, its legs no longer stable enough to support its incredible weight, Link rushed out from beneath its substantial foul-smelling posterior, escaping what he was sure would be a truly horrific death.

The Hinox flopped onto its back, groaning pathetically as thick blood seeped from its stubby legs. Link paused a moment to catch his breath and then clambered up onto its chest and plunging his sword hilt-deep into its meaty chest, where he could hear the great beast's heart pounding with all the force of a thunderclap. And then the creature's hand smacked into him, easily tearing him from the blade and sending him tumbling down its side. Link struck the ground and lay still for a moment, winded, fresh stinging aches starting up all over his skin. Teeth clenched, he pushed himself shakily back to his feet and hurried out of range of the monster's flailing arms, watching it carefully. It's downed now – it won't be able t'get back up. Did I get its heart, though? Will it actually die?

There was so much fat on the disgusting creature, he didn't know if his sword had managed to pierce all the way through it all. His gaze landed on its bulbous eye and he grit his teeth in determination. New plan!

He ran around the room to the nondescript patch of grass where he'd first materialized and left the crossbow he'd looted from bokoblins, early on in the challenges this time around. He picked it up, double checked that it was loaded, and jogged back towards the Hinox, circling around to its head. It was slapping at the ground at its sides, wriggling its upper half as if attempting to sit or stand; Link smirked grimly at the results of his efforts to sever its tendons at the knees. He took aim at the creature's massive eye and fired.

After a series of disturbing twitches and convulsions, the Hinox went still. Link climbed up onto its flabby torso and yanked his sword free before hopping lightly down. "Alright, Zah Tori," he growled. "What's next?"

"You have overcome the Beginning Trials," came the Sheikah monk's response. "From now on, if you… er… die, you will start at the beginning of the Middle Trials, instead of all the way back at the beginning of the Beginning Trials. Er… you will once again lose your gear."

Link exhaled heavily, tightening his grip on his sword. Maybe f'I hold tight enough… "Fine. Send me ahead."

He felt the familiar prickling of teleportation and grimaced as his body dissolved. When he rematerialized, he was at once taken aback by the strangeness of his surroundings.

Unlike the previous floors, with their attempt at mimicking a forest or a field, there was no sign of natural life anywhere in the vast room he found himself in. The only similarity to the prior challenges was the misty blue light filtering down from above. He stood on a stone platform engraved with Sheikah text; only a few yards from his feet the platform dropped away into an abyss so deep that he couldn't see the bottom. There was a steep ladder on his right, going directly up the usual black stone walls. The entire room felt manufactured, fake… nightmarishly urban.

"I don't like this," Link muttered, glaring up at the ladder. Guess th'way forward is fairly clear, though. Just as well that my weapons didn't follow me in.

Flexing his fingers, he walked up to the ladder and started to climb, quickly at first and then more carefully the further he got from the ground. He kept his gaze narrowed on the top of the ladder; when his hands closed around the final rung, he carefully lifted his head over the top of the wall and peered over.

There were two bokoblins wielding crossbows. Beyond them, Link noticed with a jolt, was another ladder leading up to a platform above them, with three more bokoblins with crossbows perched across the side. And on the leftmost edge of that second platform stood a third ladder, this one going down to a much lower ledge carrying four bokoblins identically armed.

Link swallowed thickly. Th'instant I climb over th'edge, all f'them will be able t'see me. And shoot at me. He winced at the phantom memory of crossbow bolts embedding themselves in his back. And f'course I don't have any weapon f'my own yet, nor could I carry one up th'ladders… I have no choice but t'get as close t'them as possible.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up over the edge and charged the first two bokoblins, roaring, hoping to intimidate them into trying to run. It worked – the two bokoblins jumped up and, although only one of them ran away from him across the platform, the other stood looking from side to side unsure of what to do. Link leapt at the creature, shooting his hands out to latch around its wrist and twist it until it dropped the crossbow with a whimper of pain. With its free arm it pushed at his face angrily and he kneed it in the stomach, over and over again until it went limp in his grasp, wheezing pathetically.

The twang of a crossbow release –

Link yanked the bokoblin up in front of him and the bolt tore through its back instead of him, drawing a pained screech from its throat.

Now it's reloading! Link dropped the dying creature and sprinted at its companion, kicking its crossbow away even as it tried to reload. He grabbed for its throat as the bokoblin reached for his, both of them fighting to strangle the other –

The sharp click of multiple crossbows releasing at once.

The bokoblins on this floor, as it turned out, did not particularly care if one of their own got caught in the crossfire. Link crumpled in agony to the ground, one bolt through his leg, another two in his back. The pain itself was enough to knock him briefly unconscious, and when he opened his eyes, writhing feebly as he struggled to – to push himself to his feet, to his knees, to do something, another volley clattered against the platform around him. One more bolt, fired from above, went through his neck.

Alright, he thought, pushing himself shakily back to his feet once he reappeared with his injuries magically wiped away at the bottom of the floor, next to the first ladder. He swallowed thickly, his pulse hammering violently in his throat as he leaned for a moment against the wall, pressing his forehead against the cool stone. He fought to tear his thoughts away from the death he had experienced. It's – it's good that I can just restart here, that I don't have t'redo th'Beginning Trials.

As for this one… maybe f'I focus on getting one f'th'crossbows first, and take out as many f'th'others as I can before moving on…

He started up the ladder again, eager to move on from the unpleasant experience. He started the same way, inhaling deeply and then vaulting over the top of the wall, yelling like a madman and charging for the nearest bokoblin –

And this time its knee-jerk reaction was to fire its crossbow at him. It struck him square in the chest with enough force to knock him to his back, breathless and winded and in pain. The bokoblins drew nearer to him uncertainly and he fought to get back to his feet, only for the second bokoblin to give a squawk of alarm and shoot him again –

He came to himself lying next to the first ladder again, a splitting headache that swiftly faded away informing him that a crossbow bolt straight to the head was what had killed him.

Breathing hard, he pushed himself to a sitting position, gently massaging his forehead. His heart was racing jackrabbit-fast, and he drew in a deep, trembling breath, fighting to calm himself. Two deaths right in a row, he thought, shivering, gripping his head in his hands. Lerkin Sheikah – no one should have t'experience death in battle more than once!

And then he flinched, realizing he had just wished his own death to be permanent. He grimaced, rubbing his temples wearily. "Not torture, indeed," he muttered angrily, letting out a heavy breath.

It took him another four attempts to clear the floor. One to successfully steal a crossbow and incapacitate both bokoblins on the first ledge, and three to take down all bokoblins in the room using it. Firing a crossbow wasn't actually very different from firing a matchlock, but the ballistics were entirely unique. On his successful run through the Beginning Trials, he had gotten much-needed practice with the weapon, but he was nonetheless far from expert in it.

The bokoblins were worse, and he learned that by darting around the platforms as fast as he could they almost never landed a successful shot, and as they reloaded they made easy targets for him. The trick was managing to reload his own crossbow faster than they did, to take advantage of the break between volleys.

The next floor was yet another vertical maze of ladders and platforms and pillars, but Link didn't get a chance to form a plan – on the ledge he materialized on there were two bokoblins already charging him, one with a spear and one with a sword and shield. "Hang it all!" Link cursed through gritted teeth, lunging up the nearest ladder out of reach. The bokoblins caught up to the base of the ladder only moments later, snarling up at him and hopping up and down.

He saw the spear-wielding bokoblin pull its arm back, ready for a throw, and his heart lurched as he instinctively shot a hand out, catching it just beneath the tip before it could strike him.

Spear in hand, he jumped to the ground, wincing at the jarring impact on his shins and knees, and spinning the spear in a wide circle around himself with a growl, keeping the two bokoblins away as he drew himself back up to his full height. The unarmed one ran to the opposite side of the ledge with a fearful cry, recognizing its vulnerability.

And then he heard a nightmarish giggle, and his blood ran cold. He looked up, spotting a wizzrobe dancing through the air towards him with that evil too-wide grin.

This one was wielding a wand that burned orange and red like a torch.

In his moment of distraction the armed bokoblin rushed forward. Link barely managed to bring his spear up defensively to block, a startled cry escaping his lips. Quickly he jabbed the spear forward, only for the bokoblin to block with its shield. Link growled in frustration, deflecting its next blow to the ground and stepping on the flat of the blade, forcing the bokoblin to bend downwards. He thrust his spear through its chest. Although a small cut on his foot had him hissing in pain, the bokoblin was soon dead.

And then in the next instant there were fireballs crashing down around him, searing through the air, and he jumped back with a shocked cry, every instinct screaming out for him to find cover, somewhere, anywhere, as his gaze darted frantically between the edge of the platform and the fireballs descending from above and he darted haphazardly around, desperately dodging the barrage. He barely missed one, the half-second of white-hot fire and excruciating heat burning a stripe down his left arm. Link yelled at the pain, recoiling instinctively into the wall he had ended up next to –

And then, mercifully, the downpour of fire ceased, the wizzrobe cackling happily in the sky above. Link panted heavily, staring at it with wide-eyes, and then a frazzled screech from the remaining bokoblin drew his attention. It had taken up the sword and shield from its fallen companion, and though its skin was burned in places from wayward fireballs, its eyes had a wild, crazed look to them – the expression of a panicked creature ready to do anything to preserve its own life.

It charged towards him, just as the wizzrobe twirled its wand and sent three fireballs in his direction. Link darted out of the way of the flames and they struck the bokoblin instead, and in its moment of agony as the searing heat engulfed its body, he thrust his spear through its neck.

The wizzrobe giggled ominously, dancing lower, just out of reach over the edge of the platform. Link sidestepped another fireball, watching the creature anxiously for any sign of another fiery barrage. And as he watched and waited he felt some of the same mad desperation he had seen in the bokoblin's eyes before it had died, and with it came an idea just as desperate and insane. He grabbed the fallen bokoblin's sword and shield and swallowed thickly.

"Zah Tori," he hissed, keeping his gaze on the wizzrobe and dodging the next three fireballs with ease – a couple at a time, they weren't so bad. "Y'can take me out f'here as soon as everything's dead, right?"

He waited for a heart-stopping moment as the wizzrobe went still, its robes glowing a fierce orange as it hopped up and down in midair; he was tempted for a moment to snatch up his fallen crossbow from the prior room – "I thought you didn't want me doing that," the monk's voice echoed down around him uncertainly.

"Do it now," Link commanded, his pulse spiking as he mustered his courage and sprinted for the edge of the platform and leaped off with his sword outstretched, into the void, his stomach lurching up through his throat. He felt weak relief as his blade plunged heartily through the wizzrobe's chest, and then they were both falling, wind tearing all around them, Link's grip white-knuckled on his sword as he yanked it back out and plunged it through the beast's neck, its gasping giggle nearly lost to the rush of air around them.

"It's dead, isn't it?" Link roared, the words torn from his lungs – he stopped breathing, his eyes wide with horror, as through the murk below he spotted what seemed like solid ground– Dragons above!

And then the tingling of Sheikah magic took hold of his body, and he had never been so relieved to feel the hideous sensation.

He materialized with a sickening jolt on solid ground and crumpled to all fours, breathing hard, cold sweat drenching his body.

"Link, go!" Zah Tori's voice came, uncharacteristically urgent. "Look up!"

Trembling, he lifted his head, only for his heart to give another painful spike as he spotted an untethered platform before him, strange bulbous canvas sacs tethered to each of the four corners and carrying it into the sky.

"Lerkin hell!" Link cursed, his voice ragged and breaths uneven as he surged to his feet and sprinted towards the rising platform and leapt atop it before it was too high, landing sprawled on his stomach. It carried him far above the starting platform – which, he realized with a furiously hammering heart, was the only platform in the room actually secured to the wall.

The rest – and there were at least ten, he thought with a quick glance – were floating, held aloft by the peculiar balloons. And the bokoblins perched upon them, wielding crossbows and spears, were starting to take notice of his arrival.

Link gulped, pushing himself carefully to his feet. His stomach lurched unpleasantly as the airborne platform wobbled beneath him. He eyed the next closest platform anxiously, judging the distance between them – above a thousand-foot plummet into darkness – to be perhaps a yard, maybe a little less.

The distant release of a crossbow and the whoosh of a bolt streaking past him gave him the extra boost of adrenaline to take the leap; as he landed on the platform his momentum caused it to sway dangerously, drifting slowly further through the air – away from the next platform. His heart felt as though it would burst right out of its chest from the fervor of its pounding. He sprang forward for the next platform, once more sending it moving slowly out of its original position – this time towards the platform beyond.

Which held a single crossbow-wielding bokoblin, levelling its crossbow towards him.

Link's heart jumped, and he dropped flat to his stomach as it fired. Wincing, he pushed himself back up to his feet and lunged at the bokoblin, leaping across the next gap and driving his sword through its chest. He yanked it back out and kicked it over the edge, giving himself more space –

Another sharp click of a crossbow released and he flinched at a sudden loud popping sound behind him. His insides spasmed in terror as he whirled around to find one of the four balloons holding the platform aloft had been struck, and the platform was starting to tilt. Heaving for breath he dashed to the edge and jumped for the next platform over, a volley of crossbow bolts cutting through the air behind him. One sailed through two of the balloons holding his current platform aloft and at once it tilted violently downwards, ready to dump him into the void; crying out with unbridled terror he sprang for the next one, his lungs seizing when only the top half of his body landed safely and his legs dangled in empty air. Briefly letting go of his sword he clawed his way on top of the platform and went still for a moment, gasping desperately for breath. He was beginning to feel the exhaustion, and the strain in his arms and legs and the winded ache in his chest, through the mad rush of adrenaline.

He snatched up his sword, pushed to his feet, and sprinted for the next platform. There were two more with bokoblins, both of them larger than the small, square platforms he had been leaping to and from up until now, rectangular instead of square, each held aloft by six balloons. And both held three bokoblins each, all of them currently working to reload their crossbows. Link swallowed, his throat parched and desperately in need of water. Gritting his teeth, flexing his fingers around the grip of his sword, he leapt to the next platform, and the next, and dropped to his stomach as the three bokoblins on that platform fired at point blank range.

With a grunt he lunged to his feet, thrusting his blade forward into the closest and yanking it back out. The two remaining bokoblins were unarmed but for their crossbows, which now required them to reload. One of them realized this and backed away with a fearful cry – right over the edge of the platform. Its terrified screech rent the air as Link's sword plunged into the other bokoblin's chest.

He heard the last remaining trio of monsters fire at him and held his bokoblin out in front of him as a shield and stumbled back at the force of the impact. Grunting, he slid the monster off of his blade – its back resembled a porcupine – and charged towards the last platform.

But these were more aware of their vulnerability when their crossbows needed reloading. They crowded against the edge of the platform closest to him, snarling viciously, forming a wall to keep him from jumping safely across for them. Link drew in several deep breaths and then lunged across the gap with a fierce yell, plunging his blade through one of the bokoblin's chest and knocking it to the ground. Jerking his sword free as it died he rolled away, behind the other two bokoblins and a healthy distance from the edge.

They were unarmed – he stabbed towards the first and killed it easily, but the second yanked fiercely at the two balloons along the platform's edge, tearing them free and setting the platform tilting dangerously. There was a cold hatred in its gaze that Link had never seen in a bokoblin before as he backpedaled rapidly to the higher end of the platform, his feet slipping dangerously. There were still four balloons holding it aloft, keeping it from tipping completely over, but Link didn't know how much he wanted to trust his survival to them.

Especially as the bokoblin lunged for the next closest balloon, snatched the thin twine anchoring it to the platform, and pulled back on it. The creature was fully ready to die, if it could bring Link with it. Link lunged at it in a panic, nearly loosing his precarious balance –

And though the bokoblin fell back, blood spurting from a lethal wound almost directly in its heart, his blade inadvertently severed the twine as well. The platform tilted violently and Link screamed, scrambling for the higher end of the platform as his heart lurched seemingly into his throat. "Zah Tori!" he shouted out, unable to keep the desperation from his voice. "Get me out f'here before I fall!" Already his arms, struggling to lock around the edge of the platform while maintaining his grip on his sword and shield, were beginning to tremble from fatigue.

"You – you don't want to catch your breath?" the monk's voice echoed around him, oddly hesitant.

"No, hang you! Get me out!"

"Very well," the monk sighed, and in the next moment he felt the prickling of Sheikah magic whisking him away –

He heard the beeping before he had fully materialized, and he was certain that his heart stopped beating for a moment as cold terror surged through his blood.

No… no, not one f'these!

When his body was fully corporal, the guardian stalker across the void from him, standing on a platform of its own, was already firing. Link flinched, thrusting his shield out in front of him instinctively despite the memories rushing through his mind of guardian beams tearing easily through sturdier shields than this –

He felt the impact. And inexplicably he felt it bounce back, and opened his eyes – he hadn't realized they were closed – to see the guardian beam deflected off of his shield and flying into a far-off wall. His jaw dropped, and he could hear Zah Tori's stunned cry of surprise.

Th'beams can be deflected f'I push back against them.

The guardian was preparing to fire again, and Link waited determined with his shield held ready in front of him. He saw the burning white-hot streak coming towards him, and the instant before the point of impact he pushed back against it, and this time instead of deflecting randomly into the wall, driven by his panic, it reflected back in the same direction it had come. It struck the guardian stalker – he couldn't see exactly where; it was too great a distance – and the machination went still and silent.

Link stared in shock, his body trembling from fatigue and dripping with sweat. It didn't move again.

The tingling Sheikah magic took him away, and this time when he rematerialized he found himself bathed in the golden glow of a simulated sunset, with the gentle lapping of water upon a shoreline and full, green-leafed trees and fluffy grass lining a stone pathway. Not one of the combat floors.

Safe.

No sooner had he experienced the thought than the adrenaline seeped from his aching limbs and he crumpled to his hands knees, sucking down deep breaths as he fought to calm his pounding heart. He dragged himself laboriously to the edge of the water, pressed his lips to the clear, cool surface, and drank deeply. His head felt heavier by the second; he barely had the strength to lift it onto the grass before unconsciousness enfolded him in its dark grasp.

He didn't know how long he slept. When his eyes opened, they felt gritty, and his entire body ached. There was a particular fierce sting on his down his left bicep; with a weary grunt he pulled himself into a sitting position and looked himself over, his gaze landing on a strip of red, blistered skin.

Th'wizzrobe, he thought with a weary sigh. F'course.

It wasn't a fatal wound. Nor would it prevent him from using his left arm – it wasn't debilitating. But it was painful, and would drain his strength and stamina as he continued. It would make it that much more difficult for him to survive the coming challenges – and more likely that he would have to redo the challenges he had already faced. He shivered at the thought, his heart clenching with something close to fear, close to panic, at the mere thought.

I… I can't go through all that again, he thought, getting to his feet and wading into the water, hissing as it made contact with the burn and gritting his teeth as he let the cold seep into and around the cold flesh there. The trout in the pool seemed content to ignore him, swimming around his feet and in wider circles around his chest. They weren't acting at all like normal fish, he thought, watching them more to take his mind off of his arm than anything else.

He snapped his right arm forward, grabbed a trout, and flung it up onto the shore before it could wriggle free.

Well… that's useful.

He managed to snatch two more of the fish before his arm felt sufficiently numbed; then he drew himself out of the water and scanned the strange little room for something, anything, he could use as a bandage. There was a small chest along the path on the other side of the room, he noted. Opening it, he found with relief a pair of trousers.

"Finally," he muttered, eagerly pulling them on.

"You didn't seem all that bothered by your nakedness before," Zah Tori pointed out. "I thought that as a Zonai you were used to it."

Link grit his teeth, anger and self-consciousness heating the back of his neck. "Y'think we just – run around naked all th'time?" he exclaimed, fastening the Hylian-style belt around his waist.

"Well… well, yes."

"We don't," Link growled through his teeth. "Th'men f'th'Zonai work shirtless in th'summer months, with th'herds and in th'fields, but there's a big difference between that and going around naked, which we don't do! I wasn't 'bothered' before because I couldn't afford t'be, what with all manner f'monstrosities charging me down." He thought of the cold, calculating hatred in that last bokoblin's eyes, and the unnatural behavior of the fish in the pool. "They're not even normal monsters, are they? Y'changed them somehow. T'be more f'a challenge."

He studied the material of his trousers – not particularly coarse, but also not uncomfortably thin. He tore off several strips and bound them around his left arm, more to protect the injury than to actually treat it.

"Yes, we did," Zah Tori admitted, sounding surprised. "It's a realm of illusion, after all – we designed it to fit our designs perfectly."

Link rolled his eyes, gathering up his three fish and bringing them to the cooking pan beneath the apple tree. "So, th'floor with th'wizzrobe that gave me this," he said irritably, jerking his chin towards his arm. "What was I supposed t'do in there? Other than what I did?"

"We… we figured you would use the crossbow."

"Oh yes, use a weapon that requires me t'aim while I'm dodging fireballs. That makes perfect sense. What about th'one with the flying platforms? F'I hadn't caught hold f'th'one that took me up in th'first place, what would I have done? Just sit there? Jump t'my death?"

The Sheikah was silent as Link cooked his fish over the fire, using a stick to turn them over when one side was finished. There was no way to gut them or clean them or anything, but in that moment Link didn't care – he was starving, and this was meat.

"I didn't know that guardian beams could be deflected like that," Zah Tori said at last, breaking the silence as Link flicked his fish from the cooking pan into the grass and waited, mouth watering, for them to cool.

"Neither did I," he muttered. "I expect y'thought I'd use th'crossbow for that, too?"

He watched the three fish gently steaming in the grass, his stomach rumbling painfully. He pushed himself to his feet and grabbed an apple from the tree to eat in the meantime. It wasn't as if his stomach would be full any time soon, of that he was certain.

"I'm… glad that you figured something out," Zah Tori said, almost reluctantly. "You… you will not believe me, but I am glad that you made it to this point. Your determination is… admirable."

Link huffed angrily around a mouthful of apple, but the Sheikah wasn't finished.

"I'm also glad that you trusted me, those two times, to get you to safety," he went on.

"I didn't trust you," Link spat. "That was desperation, nothing more. Does a trapped wolf in a pit trust th'hands that throw food down t'it? No. It's just willing t'do anything for its own survival."

Zah Tori didn't speak again after that. Link was mostly relieved – he hated the flameless Sheikah monks that had sentenced him to this hell, hated the torment they put him through.

But at the same time, he understood that Zah Tori was the only person he had contact with in here, the only human to distract him from the gnawing loneliness of being cut off from everyone else – cut off from Zelda, from Inpa, from Beira and Hofthrean…

Will she wait for me t'finish? he wondered, and the thought planted a deep ache in his chest, longing and grief. Will she… will she be there, when I get out?

He considered asking Zah Tori how long he had been inside, but quickly changed his mind, afraid of what the truth would be. Instead he pushed himself to his feet, picked up his sword and shield, and exhaled heavily. "I'm ready," he growled, and Sheikah magic carried him away once more.

The following floors were almost a relief after the mad, desperate rush from the previous challenges. There were several ruined stone buildings and no light at all except for the flickering of torches, lanterns, and campfires – something meant to add to the challenge, he was certain, but that instead played to the abilities he had honed during the war – sabotage, primarily. He knew how to move unseen and unheard through the darkness, causing distractions to misdirect his foes and enable him to catch them unawares. Here he was in his element – this was what he knew how to do well.

He did learn that, although his usual strategies worked very well against a Hinox in the darkness, they were not quite so effective against a guardian stalker. The machinations would not be distracted by sound, and seemed to know exactly where he was despite the darkness the instant he crept forward out of hiding from behind ruined walls. They did not appear to depend on light to see.

He was surprised when he materialized in another oasis room, even more so when he discovered a chest with a light tunic and chain mail shirt.

"So y'don't expect me t'complete th'entire trial without armor," Link noted with a scoff, pulling it on carefully over his torso, wary of fresh bruises and the burn on his arm.

His collection of minor injuries was growing, and he couldn't help but worry about that, after how far he had come. He didn't want to make a sloppy mistake because of these small but nonetheless painful and draining wounds, get killed, and then have to start all the way back at that beginning, and experience again the terrifying series of initial challenges. His eyes burned and his heart quickened with panic at the mere thought.

It's more than likely I'll die t'these next floors, he thought worriedly. Especially f'Zah Tori planned for armor t'be available here – that must mean I need it.

What do I do? There's no good option. I could… He swallowed thickly, glancing down at his sword resting on the ground for now. I could… kill myself. Force a fresh start, try not t'get injured at all this time…

But there's no guarantee I could do any better than I am now. I could end up having t'redo those first floors over and over again…

He pulled his knees to his chest, his heart quickening and breaths coming quicker and shorter. He closed his eyes tightly, forcing his eyes away from the memories of those challenges. I – I wish I could speak t'Twilight. See what he would advise me t'do.

He looked at his right hand and focused on the bond with his ancestor, the wise mentor he had found in the old wolf. His hand flickered green for a moment –

"What was that?" Zah Tori asked curiously. "Some kind of magic? Strange; that shouldn't be possible in here…"

"Spirit magic," Link mumbled, letting his hand fade to its normal color. He pressed his head into his knees, closing his eyes wearily. "Didn't work anyway." He couldn't feel Twilight still. The loneliness pressed in on him again, as he huddled in an empty room in feeble imitation of the outdoors, locked in a box with nothing but the disembodied voice of one of his greatest enemies to keep him company.

Doesn't matter, I guess, he thought, fighting to steel himself for the challenges ahead. I know what Twilight would say. He'd want me t'keep going, t'give a good fight no matter what might happen. He… he wouldn't want me t'give up, even a little.

He got to his feet, his mouth set in a grim, determined line. "Ready."

"Be careful," Zah Tori told him as he vanished to the Sheikah magic for the next set of trials, and he almost sounded sincere.

The next floors held guardian scouts as they had been in various stages of development. Little ones barely as tall as his knees that had functioned as little more than automated canons, easily dispatched of. The armed variants with their very predictable sets of moves, also easy to kill.

And the more refined, intelligent versions, with fewer tells and the ability to perform the devastating spinning attack that had sundered Link's countrymen limb from limb. Link quickly learned how to lure them into crashing against walls while they executed those brutal moves, and took great satisfaction in hacking them to pieces while they stood stunned from the impact. "Flameless lerkin things," he snarled through clenched teeth as he plunged his sword once more through a guardian scout well past the point of no longer functional. He didn't let Zah Tori take him to the next floor until every single one of them was scattered in hundreds of pieces across the room.

He heard the crashing of thunder and lightning first when he rematerialized. He felt rain falling in sheets on his body, soaking him instantly – and drawing his attention to the fact that he no longer had his sword, shield, or any of his clothes. And while the wounds across his body were gone as well, he wondered grimly at the validity of the tradeoff.

"Congratulations, Link," Zah Tori said with a weary sigh. "Welcome to the Final Trials."