The Bleeding Effect
Chapter XV
"How much further is this chamber of yours?"
A few days after the Happy Mask Salesman extended his offer again in Ganondorf's throne room, the former had insisted the latter accompany him down into the crumbled, dusty ruins of Old Hyrule. The original Hyrule Castle, abandoned after several successful sieges left it virtually defenseless, had been built north of the newer one. Nowadays, it is nothing more than a jagged, ugly mess. It has been picked clean of anything of value long ago, and yet, the Happy Mask Salesman persists in the fact that there is something long buried in the ruins that shall be the key to the hero's demise.
Ganondorf had come with the salesman begrudgingly, and, as they squeeze through old stone for hours upon end, annoyance starts to fester.
The salesman laughs at his question. "Why, are you growing tired already?"
Ganondorf growls, and stalks through the next doorway. There are sculptures of elements the King of Darkness is unfamiliar with—along with a carving, on the back wall of the room, which depicts a monster with one giant eyeball. In the center of the room is a pedestal, with a sword sealed in it. Ganondorf's lips curl with disdain. Though spotted with rust, he has no problem identifying the gold-hilted, weaker cousin of the Master Sword.
"What is the purpose of bringing me here?"
The Happy Mask Salesman slinks past Ganondorf, stopping right in front of the pedestal.
"Isn't it obvious, my friend? We are going to use the Four Sword."
Ganondorf crosses his arms. "And how shall we accomplish this? Neither you nor I can wield it."
"Not as it is now, no. But, with a few alterations…"
The Happy Mask Salesman grasps the hilt of the sacred sword, but is careful to not pull it out. Just from coming into contact with the salesman, the Four Sword begins to change. Darkness bleeds along the length of the blade, until the entire sword, save for its hilt, is jet black. Once that is done, the salesman steps away, and beckons Ganondorf to draw the Four Sword himself.
The king grasps the hilt and is surprised by the distinct lack of pain and repelling force he feels. Whatever bizarre dark magic his companion used must have altered the sword's very composition.
When he slides the Four Sword from its resting place, he feels the strangest sensation. He's being split into four beings, and yet, he's not divided. He's not weakened. He's stronger. Even more powerful.
"The first version of the Four Sword drew out and enhanced personality traits in the chosen hero. I've modified the new sword to not have such a complicating feature. Instead, they are three exact copies of yourself. Or rather, three extensions. They share your mind, act how you will it; like limbs responding to your thoughts." The salesman explains, calm and collected despite the fact that there are now four Kings of Darkness standing before him. The only difference between the four is the color of the fabric on the insides of their capes. The original's is red, and the other three are blue, purple, and green.
All the Ganondorfs inspect themselves. The one with the green-toned cape seems particularly irked. But as one, they all smirk. The ultimate success is nearly at hand, thanks to the huge advantage they've just gained.
Suddenly, though they are underground, there is a hint of wind.
It soon whips up into a fine twister, howling through the cracks in the foundation.
"What is happening?" One of the Ganondorfs demands. The others fall into various attack stances, prepped and ready for anything.
"By removing the Four Sword, you have removed the seal upon him. Do not attack—he will become a strong ally."
A ball of wind churns in the center of the room. It builds up speed, spinning faster and faster, until it abruptly dies down. Now, sprawled in the center of the room is a purple-clad, gray-skinned Hylian boy.
The Happy Mask Salesman goes to the boy's side, propping him into a sitting position. The Ganondorfs idle, bemused.
"Wake up." The Happy Mask Salesman shakes him.
With a groan, crimson eyes crack open, one half-obscured by his mess of hair. His tongue darts out to lick his dry lips. When he speaks, his voice is low and husky from disuse.
"What…"
The Happy Mask Salesman waits for him to finish his sentence, but nothing else is forthcoming. The boy just stares off into the distance, eyes glazed. He sags slightly into the salesman's side.
"And who, exactly, is this supposed to be?" Ganondorf's harsh, no-nonsense tone cuts into the semi-tranquil quiet. When the boy says nothing in reply, the salesman is the one to fill his companion in.
"You should have paid more attention to your history lessons, my friend. This is none other than Vaati."
The Ganondorfs all raise one red eyebrow. "This is the Sorcerer of Winds?" Such a weak-looking Hylian could hardly be the powerful mage of legend.
"You were only sealed in the Twilight Realm for around one hundred years. Vaati has been locked away for thousands."
"And it's clearly had an adverse effect on him, if he can hardly stand or speak."
Anger flares across the salesman's face. "Vaati is a necessary part of my plan."
"We will leave the boy." One of the Ganondorfs commands. "The power of the Four Sword is more than enough."
The wind begins to stir in the chamber again, ruffling their clothes.
"No. He is essential."
Vaati lists further still, his temple pressing against the cloth of the salesman's shirt.
"Master Ezlo…I didn't…I…"
Ganondorf scowls. There are better things he could be doing with his time than listening to the ramblings of a mage whose mind has turned to jelly.
"He is useless. Gut him."
The Happy Mask Salesman roughly seizes Vaati by the front of his shirt. With his free hand, he hits the mage soundly across the cheek. Some spark flickers back into the one visible red eye, but not enough.
"Who are you?" The salesman asks him.
When the mage does not respond, the Happy Mask Salesman strikes him again.
"Who. Are. You?"
"'m…Vaati." The wind stirs, picking up speed again. When the mage speaks now, his voice is a bit clearer. "I am…Vaati."
"You are Vaati, the Sorcerer of Winds."
"Yes." He rasps. He breaks away from the salesman, clutching his head, as if they pressure his blunt nails make on his skull will speed along the return of his memory and awareness. "Yes."
"You were sealed away an eternity ago."
"Yes."
Vaati rises. He wavers a little, at first, but soon stands firm. The gusts grow even stronger. If Ganondorf or the Happy Mask Salesman were lesser men, they would not be able to remain standing at this point.
"And who did this?" The salesman shouts to be heard above the raging storm. "Who did this to you?"
Vaati arches, and before them his body darkens and bulges and distorts into the form of a massive winged eyeball.
"LINK!" Cries Vaati, full of wrath.
They patch Link's shoulder wound up as quickly and efficiently as they're able.
The wound smarts as he climbs up tangled vines, but it's the only way to get to Argorok, so he grits his teeth and climbs.
He heaves himself up to the roof of the building. It's flat, cylindrical. There must've been even higher levels, once upon a time—four pillars stand like sentries over the open area. His boots crunch over the tufts of grass that have long since broken through the brickwork. The wind is a constant rush in his ears, but he soon notices another sound—the noise of massive wings flapping.
Link looks up, spying Argorok above. The dragon's body is covered in a black plated armor. Its leathery wings, red and scaly. He spies a glint of gold on the end of its tail, but he can't discern what exactly it is from so far away.
The dragon decides to move closer of its own accord, circling around the platform, sinking lower as it does so. The golden object at the tip of its tail seems to be some sort of bizarre claw. Perhaps the intention of whoever outfitted the dragon with its armor was that if the claw connected with an enemy's head, it would be as effective as a mace in splitting the head wide open.
"That thing's so big!"
"I've seen bigger." Link is relieved that Argorok, while still massive, is nowhere near the length and bulk of Volvagia. When Link fought the latter, the dragon's mass stopped it from navigating freely within the cramped space of the volcano. If it was completely free to move as it wished, as this dragon is, Link wouldn't have stood a chance.
The dragon heads right for them, its razor-sharp claws grating against the roof. Link darts out of its way as it goes past.
Argorok circles around, holding a position so it's nearly eye-level with Link. It roars in challenge, forked tongue whipping out.
"If you couldn't put down the aeralfos without the iron boot, you certainly can't drag this beast down in your normal ones."
Link nods. He follows Argorok's movements carefully.
"I need an opening. A window of thirty seconds or so to put the other boots on."
Midna thinks for a moment.
"I might be able to enact some sort of…field around you." Aside from warping, minor illusion spells, and an enlargement charm on her hair, the Twilight Princess has virtually no magical powers in this cursed imp form. Zant's intention had been to not only mortify her with the reduced form, but to cripple her by cutting off the wealth of her magical prowess. The only power she has gained during her quest with Link is the ability to withstand the sunlight, and that was only made possible by Princess Zelda gifting her with the essence of light. But everything seems to have changed after her encounter with Roark. She ripped open an entirely new warp point to save herself and Link. And now, when she needs a way to provide her friend with shelter from Argorok, the viable defensive spell instantly springs to the forefront of her mind.
"Midna?" Link breaks into her musings. "Where do you want to erect the field?"
"Not in the middle. Definitely not on the edge; we don't want to risk being knocked off."
"Against one of the pillars, then?" Suggests Link. "That way, you won't have to do all of the shielding by yourself."
"Alright. Head for that one." She points to the pillar closest to them on their left.
When Argorok dives again, Link darts to the stone pillar, shoving his back against it. The short sprint has him breathing a bit quicker than he'd like—up as high as he is, the air is far too thin. What little air he has pinches in his chest. How, by the Goddesses, did the villagers of Skyloft stand it?
As soon as he hits the ground, Midna detaches from his shadow and makes great sweeping motions with her hands. They're engulfed in a hemisphere of dark energy. Rivulets of cool blue lightning crackle up and down the black expanse, giving Link and Midna enough light to work by. They hear Argorok roar, and both tense as it smashes into the field. The magic barrier shudders, but holds.
Link pulls off his boots as Midna roots through his item pouch. The moment he's got the second one off, she's pushing the heavier pair into his hands.
He slips the first on with a grunt. Argorok, furious at being denied its fun, strikes at the field again. The dragon has yet to break through, but Link isn't about to push his luck. He shoves his foot down into the second iron boot.
"Clawshots," Link says. "They're our best bet to reach that thing."
As Midna puts them in his hands, the dragon crashes once more into the field.
"How are we going to get out of here? The moment you bring down the barrier, Argorok will be upon us."
"Leave that to me. Are you ready?" Link stands, and nods. "Okay. Be prepared to run."
Midna lifts up her arms. All the black energy condenses into a single spear. With the field gone, the dragon is easily visible. With a shout, the princess sends the shaft of power straight for the monster. Link doesn't see it connect—he's focused on getting safely out of Argorok's range, his back to his enemy—but he does hear the dragon shriek in agony.
Link turns around to see the damage done. The energy pierced the dragon's chest; pieces of its black armor fall heavily to the roof, revealing scales the same vibrant red as its wings.
"You need to get the rest of its armor off."
"Right." Link comes closer to the dragon, so it's in range of his clawshots. Still reeling from the magical attack, Argorok doesn't even come close to successfully dodging. The left clawshot hooks itself into the ribbed golden object on the end of the dragon's tail.
Argorok panics, flapping its great wings, straining to get high in the sky and well away from the Hylian. But Link pulls, and, with the help of the iron boots, he has slightly more weight on his foe. Thank the Goddesses Midna has done away with half the dragon's armor already. If she hadn't, Link would probably be flying through the air by his clawshot like the last time. He pulls hard on the chain, and with a roar of frustration and helplessness, the dragon plummets. It smashes into the ground beside Link, several big chunks of its armor cracking and dropping away. Now its back is revealed: upon it, a glowing fourth of a circle.
"That must be the mirror shard." Says Midna. "We need to get on its back and prize it off of Argorok."
The dragon recovers, taking to the sky again.
Link and Midna watch with dread as it flares its wings wide, with enough force to shred away the last pieces of armor. It swoops down to attack, and Link's life is saved by the distance of the barest of an inch.
"It's gotten faster without that armor weighing it down and restricting its movements."
"Help me switch boots again. Argorok nearly had me that time."
Midna acquiesces, raising her hands to form another shield. But the dragon is wily; it flies in close, draws one wing over its face, and then flings it out. The wing smacks into the imp, and she collides into one of the pillars. She slides to the ground after the impact, and remains still.
"Midna!" His voice cracks with the height of his emotions. As quick as he's able, he kicks the boots off. He hardly notices the minor pains and uncomfortable sensations as his socked feet crunch over rubble and wet grass. He must get to Midna.
Argorok crows victoriously, and flies higher into the sky, circling around them like a vulture does dead bodies. But certainly, Midna can't be…
He skids to a stop at her side, and bends down immediately to check on her.
"Please, no, you can't be gone, not you." He babbles as he gingerly turns her onto her back. Her eyes are closed, and a small trickle of blood runs down the side of her head, but he can see the steady rise and fall of her chest.
"Oh thank the Goddesses." He utters. Parts of her gray crown crumble off; it must have taken the brunt of the blow of the pillar. He scoops up the pieces, removes the rest of the remaining crown from her head, and stuffs all of it in one of the pouches. Link doesn't know how valuable the crown is to Midna, (She might have countless replicas back in her palace in the Twilight Realm, for all he knew.) but there's no sense in leaving it behind if he can help it.
Link then cradles her limp body in his arms. His gaze flicks skyward. The dragon still circles. It doesn't look like it plans on attacking; rather, it's waiting for Link to accept its challenge, to join the beast up in the sky to do proper battle with it. In the sky, where it would have the distinct advantage. Or would, if Link wasn't so filled with righteous indignation.
The dragon had dared to hurt Midna; Link will see the monster slain before the hour is out.
His blue eyes flick back to his friend. Before he deals with Argorok for good, he needs to put Midna somewhere safe.
With half his attention still trained upon the dragon, Link heads to the vines he had used earlier to climb up on the roof. He stuffs one clawshot away, and tangles the other in the vines. He swings down into the lower room, Midna curled securely in his one arm. When his feet touch down, he retracts the clawshot. The hero spies the slab of stone Midna and he had used to hide from the two aeralfos earlier.
He props Midna against it carefully. After a moment of consideration, he unhooks his shield from where it rests upon his back and leans it so it covers her. Perhaps, this way, she'll be spared any harm from stray rubble, or any other enemies that might happen upon the room. He wishes he could do more for her. He wishes he could wake her up so she could slip into his shadow, where she was untouchable. He wishes he knew the magic necessary to accomplish such a feat, so he could do it himself. But his wishes do not come true, so, despite his misgivings, he strides away from Midna to climb back on the vines.
The dragon hasn't budged from its flight pattern, Link notes, as he steps back on the roof. He had the time to slip his normal boots back on when he was taking care of Midna, but for some reason, the thought didn't brush across his mind. Oh well. It's too late now.
After making sure both clawshots are firmly on his hands, Link shoots one of them into a pillar. It grasps the stone. He gives it a rough tug to test it. The stone is in the perfect state of decay; it is weak enough for the clawshot to sink into, but strong enough to not totally give way.
He pushes a lever, and he's pulled toward the clawshot. The dragon seems to be watching his ascent, but is content to do nothing until Link reaches it. That works out for Link just fine.
Feet now pressed against the side of the pillar, he swings his free arm towards the pillar next to him, which is taller than the one he's on. Lightning crackles in the sky as he climbs to the top of the pillar.
The dragon draws in a deep breath, and that's all the warning Link ha before jets of flame come pouring out of its mouth. Link frantically aims and clamps down on the triggers to release the clawshot and retract it, flying over to the nearest pillar. Intense heat singes his back, but thankfully he is far away enough that his clothes don't catch fire.
He wheels around once he makes contact with the pillar. Before the dragon can reorient itself to attack him again, Link sends a clawshot straight for Argorok's back. The dragon howls as its flesh is dug into by three metal claws. Link presses the retract button and is soon on the dragon's back. His sweaty left hand slides out from the clawshot and grasps the hilt of the Master Sword.
Argorok thrashes and bucks, trying to throw Link off. But the hero holds himself steady with one hand, and with the other, raises the Blade of Evil's Bane high. He stabs under the mirror shard, and pushes up, trying to disconnect it. It has been solidly fused into the dragon's skin; as he pulls, tendrils of Argorok's tear and snap.
Once the mirror shard is removed, Link stabs down into the now-exposed flesh, sinking his blade all the way to its hilt into the stomach of the beast.
Argorok howls, plumes of flame spewing from its mouth as it whips its head back and forth. Its wings strain to keep it and Link aloft, but the blow the latter dealt the former is too deep. They careen downwards, Argorok still streaming fire from its mouth, its yell intermingling with Link's own.
The ground rushes towards them, and Link can't help but close his eyes as they impact. The collision is mighty; the Master Sword is pushed up out of the dragon. Argorok's flames sputter and fade away; its forked tongue limply splayed out on the grass. The dragon that wreaked havoc and terrorized the oocca for so long is finally dead.
Link eases himself off of the fresh carcass, wincing at the soreness in his legs. He puts away one of the clawshots and the mirror shard, as well as sheaths his sword. The ground still shakes, even after the impact of Link and Argorok ended. At first, the hero attributes it to nothing more than a cruel product of his overtaxed mind, but when it persists, Link knows he can't simply be making it up. He looks around him. The foundation of one of the pillars was jarred by their fall; now, it is starting to crumble in earnest.
Link is out of time. He uses the clawshot to swing back down to the lower level. To his utmost relief, Midna is exactly as he left her. He slings the shield on his back, and pats her cheek.
"Come on, I need you to wake up now."
The foundation above him groans and quivers. Link scoops up Minda in his one free arm and takes off, retracing back his steps to return to Oocctavian's shop. With Midna unconscious and, thus, her warping powers unavailable, Ooccoo and her son are his best chance of escaping the collapsing city. But what if they've already evacuated everyone, and elected to not wait for Link? Dread curls in his stomach at the thought.
Link is not watching where he steps, and he pays from it when the block of stone he's on flashes blue and drops away. Link is too close to the end of the stone to fall with it, but the difference in height between that block and the next one causes him to trip. He has just enough time to angle himself so that the brunt of the fall is felt by his shoulder, and not Midna. Then that slab of stone flashes blue as well, and Link scrambles up to avoid falling with it. Skyloft is truly finished: everything around him is losing its magical elements and free-falling from the sky.
Link at last reaches the pool of water where the pathways diverge near Oocctavian's shop. An oocca, a young one—Link can only assume that it's youthful due to the fact that it is a face with wings like Ooccoo Jr. as opposed to a birdlike creature such as Ooccoo and Oocctavian—floats near the path to the shop.
"What are you doing here?" Link shouts to be heard over the quakes and crashes of the city behind him. He puts away the clawshot and scoops up the tiny being into his palm.
"Mama!" The child shrieks. "Mama!"
They must have overlooked this little one by accident amidst all the chaos, Link realizes.
"How can I get down to the surface?"
The oocca squirms, still wrapped up in its own panic.
"Listen to me!" Link demands. "If you don't tell me how to get off of this thing, we're going to die!"
That, at least, seems to get through to the young creature.
"The…the cannon…"
"Where is it?"
The oocca shrieks directions as a large chunk of rubble shatters directly behind them.
Link stumbles to a stop at the large white cannon, chest heaving. A large hole is in the back of the cannon.
"Jump in! Jump in!" The oocca says, and Link leaps into it. Behind him, a flap of metal encases them in the cannon. Link's breath is hot in the dark, cramped space.
"Now what?"
"I don't know—"
"What do you mean you—"
"I've never seen a Hylian before you! This is all Mama told me they did!"
The cannon shudders, and despair fills Link. They are too late. The ground beneath the cannon will fall, and then, so will they.
"I'm sorry." He chokes out.
"What for?" Says the tiny oocca, with excitement. "It's working!"
They lurch as the cannon angles itself to point towards the ground.
Link screams and the oocca whoops with joy as they're shot through the sky at a breakneck speed back to Hyrule.
Specks of green and blue appear once they pass through the haze of clouds. To Link's relief, the cannon's trajectory has them landing not on the hard, unforgiving ground, but in the water. He folds into a ball, curling up his knees to protect Midna and the oocca chick as they crash into the water.
Link sinks a little, then uncurls from the ball and breaks the surface of the water. Throwing wet hair out of his face with a shake of his head, he swims over to the nearest clump of land and puts his two charges on it before heaving himself up next to them.
He wheezes, shaking with both excitement and fear. He takes a few moments to collect himself, staring down at the blades of grass underneath him. The sound of padding feet has him looking up.
Standing before him is a golden wolf, its lips ripped back in an angry snarl.
-TBC-