Hero of the Zonai

by bladeofthebookworms

A brutal war between the Zonai and Sheikah peoples sends ripples throughout the kingdom. In the midst of the violence, a young Zonai warrior discovers a mysterious ancestor, who urges him to see beyond the plight of his people. For peace is elusive, and Hyrule's greatest threat has yet to emerge. T for violence.

36. The Final Floor

Chapter 36: The Final Floor

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Note: Oh my goodness, did you all see the new TotK trailer? So exciting! I've got some high hopes, haha! Anyways, enjoy the chapter! :D

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Link

Link withdrew his sword from the guardian stalker's feebly flickering eye and jumped back off of its hull as sparks danced across its body, as its vitality decayed.

"Alright," he panted, wiping sweat from his brow. "Take me t'th'next one."

This was the farthest he had gotten. Not by much – he had gotten stopped by this guardian once before, and the time before that he had been slain by the second lynel on the floor above. That floor he had learned to test the limits of spirit magic. He wondered what Frokar would think about his powers now.

But Zah Tori wasn't quick to move him on again. "Rest for a moment," he said, his voice tense with anxiety.

"Why?" Link challenged, although even those few moments had helped him catch his breath, and his pounding heart to slow. "I need t'get going – I've taken long enough as it is."

Zah Tori did not respond, infuriatingly, for several more seconds. "Because," he answered at last, his tone solemn, "you have reached the final floor."

Link's heart jumped up to his throat and then froze there, the breath stilled in his lungs.

Th'final floor.

He sank slowly to his knees, remembering to breathe and mindfully taking in a deep, calming breath, holding it for a moment, then releasing it.

After so long… so much anguish and pain, so much torment of body and spirit… the end was not only in sight, but also within reach. And with it, the Master Sword. Twilight's sword – the blade of evil's bane.

He closed his eyes, forcing his breaths even and calm to keep fear and nerves from overwhelming him. Th'final floor. I could be finished with this trial in a matter f'minutes.

Or days, f'I die again.

He inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly, feeling his heart calm like a restless stallion beneath the touch of his spirit magic.

I made it this far twice now. I'll make it this far again f'I have to. I am making progress. F'I die in there, then… I die. And I'll come back and try again. And again f'I have to.

"I don't suppose you can give me any warning about what I'll be facing in there," he murmured.

There was a long pause before Zah Tori responded, "I don't know that it would help at this point. But having seen the obstacles you've overcome thus far, I feel confident that you can defeat this one, too."

Eventually, yes, he agreed inwardly. Maybe not on th'first try. Maybe not the second. He exhaled, rose to his feet, and felt his blood turn to steel. But I will conquer it eventually.

"I'm ready," he growled.

His body dissolved into swirling blue strands of Sheikah magic. He felt the intense discomfort of the pins-and-needles-prickling engulf his body.

Then it faded, and he found himself on a vast field lit by misty blue light from above, a few scattered trees the only cover. And so the horseback-mounted bokoblins in the room noticed him almost at once – he heard their shrieks, saw their pointed fingers and raised spears. He saw the horses begin their charge and knew what to do.

Link stood his ground, drawing in a deep breath and closing his eyes, reaching out to his ancestors. His parents, his grandparents… all the way through his bloodline to Twilight himself. His eyes flashed open, a film of green flickering across his vision as his right arm pulsed bright with magic. He reached out towards the oncoming horses, fingers spread wide. The ground trembled from the force of their hooves as they neared, screeching bokoblins on their backs raising their spears hungry for his blood. Almost as an afterthought he raised his shield protectively over his chest, in case he ran out of time – the horses were closing fast.

He released his breath and with it sent the power outwards, reaching for each and every one of the horses charging nearer. The first was mere yards from him when suddenly it veered away, so sharp and unexpected that the bokoblin slipped from its back with a startled cry, and the horse behind it trampled it to death while bucking furiously, unseating its own rider and sending it to a swift death. Link felt his hand trembling, his breaths coming fast and sharp as he fought to maintain the spell on the horses – he needed chaos, as much of it as he could create –

A sudden impact to his shield knocked him back a step and the accompanying jolt of pain broke his concentration. The magic faded from his arm as he stared with wide-eyes at his left arm, and the thick, sturdy arrow that had punched through his shield and chainmail, biting into his skin above his collarbone. He thrust his shield forward with a strangled cry of pain, yanking the arrow out in the process.

And then another arrow struck, through the bottom of his shield into his chest, and he grunted, stumbling back with a pained grimace. His mind caught up at last and he strained his eyes to look beyond the cloud of dust raised by the confused stampede of horses still vesting themselves of their riders –

A lynel, with a white mane and black-and-white striped body, nocking another arrow to its bow even as he watched. His heart jumped.

Link broke into a run for the trees, desperate for any kind of cover. The movement pulled the second arrow from the bottom of his rib cage and he yelled through his teeth, staggering a few steps from the pain as fresh blood dripped down his side. Distantly he heard the lynel's next arrow thunk into the grass mere feet behind him, and then he was behind a tree, breathing hard, with perhaps a few moments to gather himself.

The first wound was painful and bloody, sending fire through his left arm with every movement. The second arrow had, he realized as he fought to catch his breath as hoofbeats drummed behind him, broken one of his lower ribs. He could still breathe, and the damage was certainly not as bad as the broken ribs he'd suffered from the guardian-blight, but breathing itself was agonizing. Not ideal under any circumstances – especially not for fighting a lynel.

I'm going t'die in here. I made it t'th'last challenge, and I'll die soon anyways.

He closed his eyes, pressing his right hand against his shoulder with a groan, doubling over from the pain. Teeth tightly clenched, he forced himself to straighten, feeling a fire burning within him.

Doesn't matter. I'll see th'fight through t'th'end. See how many more f'them I can take down with me.

Determined, he sent magic through his hand once more, reaching for the closest riderless horse and summoning it nearer to him. The others he instructed to continue their raging stampede, sending dust rising up in great clouds, obscuring his vision – and the lynel's, he hoped.

On th'ground, out in th'open, I'm an easy target. But f'I can blend in with th'other horses somehow…

His chosen steed neared, and he gave it a light pat on the shoulder, leaving a smear of blood behind as he thanked it quietly. Casting his shield aside, he pulled himself into the bokoblin's makeshift saddle of rough wool, holding tight to the horse's mane with his left hand and urging it onward, crouching low against its back and drawing his sword. He thought back to his first wild ride on Hofthrean – clinging more to the horse's side than actually sitting on his back. Breathing hard, he let himself slip sideways down his mount's chest, screwing his eyes shut for a moment at the intense stinging in his shoulder. But using his left arm to hold on, despite the injury, meant his right was free to wield his sword.

They charged into the dusty tangle of horses trotting and cantering and bucking all around the lynel scanning around in confusion. Link sent magic through his left hand, guiding his horse towards the lynel. They burst from the herd and he slashed across the lynel's left side – first its forelegs, then its hind legs – and then even as it was whirling to face them in surprise he pulled his horse back into the fray. His left arm and leg trembled, shaking from the effort it took to maintain his position clinging to the horse's side –

They trampled a bokoblin, and in its death throes its grasping claws caught Link's right leg on the belly of the horse. He lost his grip with a pained cry, tumbling hard to the ground as hooves smashed into the dirt inches from his face; in desperation he reached out with his magic for one of the creatures, any of them, if only to keep them from inadvertently trampling them –

An equine figure materialized through the drifting clouds of dust and Link scrambled to his feet groaning from the pain, clutching at his blood-drenched side, and then his stomach dropped to his toes.

It was the lynel coming towards him through the stampeding horses, raising its sword to cleave him in half.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Zelda

The waiting was intolerable. There were so many unknowns – how long, exactly, they would be waiting for Link in the forest; whether the Order of the Sword survived the invasion of Yagamura's spies; whether Khanot had as of yet displayed any worrying signs of Calamity…

So much to worry about, and nothing to distract Zelda from her worries besides the vaguely interesting shapes made by the gnarled knots in the trees around her, and occasional infrequent attempt to play fetch with an equally-frazzled Beira. Inpa did not seem much better off – the Sheikah warrior paced restlessly back and forth around the perimeter of the clearing around the sword pedestal, scowling heavily with her brows drawn tightly together.

"Nothing can get through the Woods if they don't want it to, right?" she asked Zah Tori multiple times, jolting him from his meditation. His responses had grown increasingly more irritable as time dragged on as he reassured her that no unworthy soul could reach the Sacred Grove.

And so when a tunnel opened up from the forest, branches groaning and creaking as they shaped the path obscured by fog, Zelda noticed that Inpa's hand went to her sword but she did not immediately attack. Beira didn't even growl.

Six sword monks entered the Sacred Grove, and the woods closed behind them. Some carried large sacks on their backs – supplies, Zelda hoped – while the others limped and leaned against each other for support. Zelda spotted blood on their robes and winced.

"Zah Tori!" one of them cried in evident relief, rushing forward. "Thank Hylia –"

"Not – not now, Toh Shimo," Zah Tori said quietly. His voice was strained, and he didn't move, spending most of his strength in maintaining his meditation. "But… it is good… to see you."

"Is this all who made it out?" Inpa asked in disbelief, rushing to help one of the monks who seemed to be struggling the most to keep moving. "This is everyone who survived?"

"The Woods took the rest," Toh Shimo said darkly. "There has been a schism in the Order of the Sword. There are those who would shed blood to ensure the Master Sword does not fall into the hands of a Zonai. The spirits of Lost Woods dealt with them when they tried to flee with us."

Zelda frowned, wariness encroaching on her heart, remembering the angry threats against Link. "And… the rest of you? When – when Link returns with the Master Sword…"

Toh Shimo bowed deeply to her. "We would fight at his side, should he ask it of us, Your Grace," he vowed. "We respect the decision of the Master Sword."

The other monks were unpacking the heavy-laden packs on their backs, setting up bedrolls and helping the more grievously wounded lie down. One was gathering sticks for a fire; another worked with Inpa to set up a small tent.

"I take it we're not returning to the Temple, then?" Inpa noted grimly, and the monk next to her shook his head.

"We beat back the first wave of attackers, with your help," he answered, nodding towards Zelda. "They only had one stalker in that wave, and you took care of that for us. Shi Deyo – " he pointed to one of the more seriously injured monks – "had gone down the road a ways to scout while we were finishing off the first group. He saw the reinforcements coming – three stalkers in that group, and enough soldiers to outnumber us five to one. They spotted him, and he took a crossbow bolt but managed to make it back here with enough time to give us some warning. By then we had defeated the first round, so we gathered up as many supplies as we could carry and fled into the Woods."

"In other words, no, we are not returning to the Temple," Toh Shimo said with a grim chuckle, kneeling down next to the injured monks and examining their wounds. "Not for a while, at least. And you, Your Grace – you should not return for longer still, until we are certain that it is empty of Yagamura's cult."

"I can't stay hidden," Zelda protested, sitting down with her back against the tree she had most recently been examining. Beira pressed her wet nose against her arm comfortingly. She considered for a moment what to say – learning of the split among the Order of the Sword, she could understand why Zah Tori hadn't wanted to tell all of his brethren about the rise of Calamity. But surely the Lost Woods has sufficiently vetted the Order of those who would misuse that information. She inhaled deeply. "The Calamity has come, and even now sits upon the throne of Hyrule. The world thinks that I am dead, that the Royal Family is no more. I can't hide – in fact, I must do the very opposite. I must reveal myself, so that the people know to be suspicious of what is happening in Castle Town, instead of blindly following what they see and hear."

"Yagamura was doing this to kill you," the monk building a fire argued gravely. "And surely that would be the Calamity's aim as well, if the time has indeed come! They want you dead, badly. Badly enough to send a hundred men and four incredibly powerful war machines to attack a temple with fourteen warriors inside. Yagamura wanted a decisive victory here."

"And we know that Yagamura is behind this?" Inpa asked slowly, straightening up from the tent, now fully erect.

"The attackers bore his colors," Toh Shimo nodded. "And Yagamura is perhaps the only powerful Sheikah lord to so openly express his discontent with having to serve the Royal Family. We have had our eyes on him, and his worrying lust for power, for many years."

"Even more the reason for you to stay here, Your Grace."

Then suddenly Zah Tori gave a sharp gasp, almost pained. Zelda shot to her feet, her heart flying to her throat at the sound. Thoughts of the Calamity and Yagamura's followers and the situation in Caslte Town fled her mind, replaced only by fear for Link. "What? What is it?" she asked, unable to hide her alarm.

"I…" Zah Tori's voice was dazed, distracted, as he sat rigidly in the grass. "It's… incredible, honestly… ah, no! No, he was so close!"

"What?" Zelda asked again, desperate. Her heart squeezed. "What's going on? Is Link alright?"

"He's still… Goddesses above, I can't believe it…" Zah Tori shook his head slowly, his mask fluttering. "But of course he is – of course he is." He was muttering again. Zelda swallowed thickly. Her chest felt tight with anxiety and no little frustration at the monk's inability to clearly say what was happening, and she took half a step forward. Then she jumped at Inpa's hand suddenly on her shoulder.

"Obviously something pretty intense is going on," she said grimly. "We'll just have to hope Link makes it through."

"I don't think Zah Tori is actually aware of any one of us right now," Toh Shimo added thoughtfully, tilting his head as he regarded the older monk. "The Trial is consuming all of his concentration."

Zelda nodded stiffly, releasing a shaky breath and letting her shoulders loosen. "He's been in there for so long," she murmured, looking up at her guardian. "And after hearing what the monks who were taken by the Woods said… they put him in there because they don't want him to have the Master Sword." She swallowed thickly, grimacing as she said it, feeling sick as Inpa's soft sight confirmed her suspicions. "It was meant to be impossible."

"But if anyone can do it, it's the chosen hero of our age," the monk by the now-crackling fire said.

"And Zah Tori just said he's close," Inpa pointed out hopefully. "Maybe –"

"No!" Zah Tori shouted out, sagging where he sat. "Din-cursed wretch! Just die quietly like you're supposed to!"

Zelda exchanged a horrified glance with Inpa.

"I – I'm sure he wasn't – talking about the Zonai," one of the monks stammered in shock, coming closer to Zah Tori. They were all gathered around the head of the Order now – all except the two injured monks, and the one man tending to them.

"And… if he was…?" Zelda asked worriedly.

"Ha!" Zah Tori crowed, his voice pitched high in disbelief. "That's it – that's the way!"

Inpa rolled her eyes, her features darkening into a frustrated scowl as she put her hands on her hips. "Can you at least tell us –"

Beira barked loudly. And it was at that moment that Zelda stopped listening. Her heart was suddenly pounding hard, her breaths caught up in her throat.

There were blue strands of magic twisting gracefully through the air above the sword pedestal, only a few at first, but quickly growing in number, forming a brightly-glowing humanoid shape. Zelda started to run, her eyes burning at once with fresh tears as a wide smile broke out upon her face.

The swirling Sheikah magic coalesced and faded away. In its place stood a familiar young man, his back to her as he raised a shining blade skyward with a hand glowing a bright green that, as she watched, vanished into the usual color of his skin. The sword's sheath, a beautiful blue and gold, had appeared on his belt. She heard him sigh deeply, a sound that carried both immeasurable fatigue and relief – the same relief she felt in her heart, a well of happiness rising up within her and blurring her vision through tears.

"Link?" she said, unable to keep a tremor from her voice.

He turned at once, and her heart jumped at the sight of his familiar face, his expression brightening at once as their eyes met. She hurried towards him and he quickly sheathed the Master Sword at his side in time to catch her in his arms as she hugged him tightly, tears squeezing from her tightly closed eyes. "Thank the Goddesses," she whispered shakily. "Thank the Goddesses you're alright – I was so worried…"

She felt his breath stutter, his arms tightening just a bit around her. "So was I," he murmured. "I…" He hesitated. "I'm sorry for taking so long."

"Don't be," Zelda said earnestly, pulling away just enough to meet his gaze again. She smiled widely, her eyes still watering. "You're here, and you're safe – I don't care about anything else."

There was a light cough from behind, and a haunted look flickered across Link's face. "Zah Tori," he said quietly.

Zelda turned, not letting go of Link but shifting so that she could see the sword monks coming up towards them, trailed by Inpa.

"Erm…" Zah Tori said with another uncomfortable cough, bringing his hands together in an almost placating manner as slowly he sank to his knees and bowed his head, the other monks swiftly following suit. He took a deep breath. "I won't ask for your forgiveness, Hero. I – I know that I don't deserve that. But I ask that you permit me to keep my life, that I might – continue to serve the Royal Family…"

"Y'can stand up," Link said, his voice just as soft, and incredibly tired. Zelda felt a tremor go through him, and wondered anxiously if he was struggling to keep himself standing. He seemed uninjured, from what she could tell, but perhaps there was something hidden. "All f'you. It's in th'past now, anyway," Link continued. "I… I'd much rather we move forward and be done with it."

"Of course," Zah Tori promised. He sounded surprised, and more than a little relieved as he got to his feet. "And – and I will revise the Trial of the Sword, as soon as I am able. It will no longer override the will of the Master Sword itself." He flinched slightly. "I… I see now how that was… wrong." The monks around him murmured their agreement, looking towards the ground in shame.

Inpa scoffed loudly. "I should think so," she said, stepping forward and dipping her head respectfully in Link's direction. "It's good that you're back. We… we need you now more than ever before."

Link frowned, and Zelda felt a cloud come over her, threatening to smother her joy at seeing Link again, alive and safe. "Surely – surely we have some time," she said uncertainly. "We can – rest, a bit, and… wait to deal with… all that… can't we?"

"All what?" Link asked warily, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, seeming almost to sag against her. "What's happened?"

Inpa took a long, hard look at him as Zelda waited in anxious anticipation.

"You… you look nearly dead on your feet," she said at last sympathetically. "Let's see if we can find you somewhere to rest."

Link raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the base of the sword pedestal. "That patch f'grass looks perfectly good enough," he said with complete sincerity. "Unless… y'were talking about an actual bed?"

"We've got bedrolls," Toh Shimo offered, gesturing to the camp behind them. "And I think Da Shinta was going to get something cooking over the fire…"

The monk that had built the little campfire nodded. "I didn't get the chance to bring much, of course, but I have enough here for a pot of stew before we have to subsist off of roots and berries."

"You should try and sleep," Zelda said quietly, looking back at Link. "I'll wake you as soon as the food is done."

"Thanks," Link murmured, stepping down from the sword pedestal. Zelda hadn't noticed – she had been too occupied with Link's return – but Beira stood at her master's other side, and his free hand drifted just above her shoulder, ready to lean on her for support if he needed to. Hidden from everyone but Zelda was the slight hesitation in his step, the tremor in his legs, the catch of his breath in his throat. She walked with him, feeling the weight of his arm slung across her shoulder, and wondered if perhaps she was helping him more than she realized.

The monks had dispersed by the time she and Link reached the nearest empty bedroll. He sank to his knees and lay down at once with a deep sigh, on his right side so that he didn't have to remove the Master Sword's sheath. Zelda let her hand rest on his shoulder and smiled.

"Whatever's going on… how bad is it?" Link murmured, closing his eyes.

Zelda forced her smile to remain intact as something cold wrapped around her chest and squeezed. Very bad, was the honest answer. "We'll worry about it later," she said instead, keeping her voice light. "For now, just rest."

She was certain that he was soundly asleep before she finished talking.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Khanot

The council chamber in Hyrule Castle was uniquely populated that day, a reflection of the circumstances with which the meeting had been called. No Zora, Rito, or Gorons were present, their peoples only just made aware of the change in leadership in Hyrule. In their places were a collection of officials from Castle Town and Captain Tannin of the Royal Guard. The latter man sat in Khanot's own old chair, the larger frame more accommodating of the armor the soldier wore. Lady Tabanth's place was filled by one of her officers, Yulia herself resting at her estate for the time being. The only traditional inhabitants were Akkalus and Yagamura.

Khanot saw both of them, and indeed the whole chamber, from the new angle of the late Pelaris's throne at the head of the council. Looking over the assembly, he felt strongly that he was at last in his rightful place.

Now begins the age of my power, Khanot thought, feeling the Gift of Din within him flare with pride. I rule from the frozen drifts of the north to the forests of the south, from the eastern shores to the western sands. Once I establish my government and make peace between the Zonai and Sheikah, there will be none with the might or will to challenge me. Surely, the sun shall never set on my eternal reign!

"What about those that fought against the crown?" Tannin asked, continuing their conversation on how to put Castle Town back together.

"We must differentiate between those that believed they were fighting for Hyrule and those that were simply taking advantage of the chaos," Khanot explained. "Many took up arms in defense of their homes, their families, their lords, or the honor of their nation. These people should suffer no ill consequences for their courage. It was Pelaris's madness that drove them against each other, not their moral character."

"How do you propose we go about sorting between them?" the Captain asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We will receive accusations and prosecute accordingly, like anything else," Khanot said simply. "To accommodate the number of cases that will be brought forward, we will have to mobilize trustworthy soldiers and city officials to serve as interim judges. So long as we give them guidance and a set of evaluations for them to use, they should have no trouble receiving testimonies and evidence. As a precaution, we will require that their verdicts be reviewed before sentences are carried out. I believe I will be able to do most of that work, as well as personally supervise higher profile cases."

Yagamura hid a subtle grin at that comment, piecing together the plan's implications. While most of the prosecutions would be legitimate and organic, the system would serve as a clever opportunity for Khanot to dispose of any members of the government who expressed doubts about his takeover. With Yagamura's shapeshifters, they would have no trouble staging enough evidence and testimonies.

"That will be quite expensive," Tannin observed.

Khanot nodded. "Restoring justice and order to this city is worth any expense. The Crown will be able to make the necessary sacrifices. And on that note, I also want an accounting to be made of all other damages during the upheaval. Gerudo law requires that wrongdoers pay restitution to their victims. While individuals lit the fires, it is ultimately the Crown's fault that so much was inflicted on this city. The Crown can do its part to repair it."

The city officials nodded with approval and made a few notes to themselves. While they wrote, Khanot turned his attention to the Phantom. The specter was following a party of Rito messengers in royal colors tasked with spreading the official word of what had happened in Castle Town to the relevant governors of villages and towns throughout the kingdom. Once the message was delivered, the Phantom lingered to measure the respective governors' responses, screening for allies and potential threats alike. Most of the Phantom's observations were worth little, but there was no sense in letting it sit idle. Khanot wished he could manifest more creatures like it to better survey his kingdom.

There will be others. Northward, voices call your name. They are lordless. You must guide them.

Curious, Khanot noticed a tug on his senses. He considered redeploying the Phantom to explore the region, but observed with regret that it was much too far away for a timely search.

"With those things decided, there is something I am curious about," Marcus Akkalus interjected, speaking for the third time since the meeting began. His proud features still bore the bruises from the late king's fists. "How are we nobles of Hyrule to interpret Pelaris's final orders? Specifically, the declaration of war against the Zonai."

"I spent most of last night thinking this issue over," Khanot began with a thoughtful and troubled tone. He was thankful that Akkalus brought the topic up without being prompted. "I understand that the belief that Zonai were behind the attack at the Temple of Time has sparked a great deal of outrage in Hyrule. However, we have now all seen how the death of Pelaris's daughter impacted his mental state. Thus, I believe we have reason to call the wisdom of his declaration of war into question. As a survivor of the catastrophe at the Temple of Time myself, I have many reasons to doubt that the Zonai are in fact behind it."

Captain Tannin's eyes narrowed with skepticism. "Oh? And who do you think did it?" he asked.

Khanot met the Hylian's gaze, anger at the insubordinate inquiry clawing at his composure.

"I don't know, but I doubt that it matters," he answered instead. "Nothing can change that Zelda and the rest of the Royal Family are dead and gone. While we may be able to learn more about the attack that claimed her life after a protracted investigation, I have to ask if the truth is worth the cost. We have watched the war between the Sheikah and the Zonai destroy our provinces and ruin countless lives. Zelda gave her life trying to bring peace to this kingdom. Rather than seek vengeance for her, perhaps we should carry out her cause and stop this war."

Every eye in the room turned to Yagamura, expecting his protest. To their surprise, he held his peace for some time.

"As a survivor of the attack on the Temple myself, I find myself agreeing with the steward," he eventually answered with a sigh. "If Hyrule can move past the end of its royal family, perhaps we Sheikah can also let our own grievances go. Zelda had successfully established terms of ceasefire when the attack occurred, after all."

The Hylian officials went wide eyed, trading stunned glances between each other. To hear warmongering Yagamura wish for peace! It would doubtless be the most significant thing many of them heard today in the council chamber.

The lordless ones call! Heed their pleas! Let not their prayers go unanswered!

Khanot once again felt the pull northward, stronger now, and decided the time had come to give it his attention. He cleared his throat. "Very well, then. I believe we all have work to do. Let us adjourn this council and get to repairing this broken land," he said, rising from his throne.

"Steward," the Hylians said, rising and bowing before him before seeing themselves out of the chamber.

Akkalus and Yagamura remained, the former man grinning wryly.

"I almost can't believe it, Khanot," Marcus said, shaking his head and chuckling. "You actually pulled it off. We'll see the end of this war yet." He raised his wine goblet to his king, drained it, and followed the rest out.

Yagamura waited for him to be well out of earshot before he spoke.

"I'd say that went splendidly," he smirked. "The Hylians really do buy up anything that comes from this throne, don't they? And just as well; we yet have a great deal of reorganization to do."

"That we do," Khanot agreed. "Speaking of which, have you gotten word from your homeland to see what they think of this turn of events?"

"Yes, well, they're still not pleased that Kishimoto died in the attack on the Temple of Time and I survived," Yagamura grunted, his smirk receding. "Had I not stabbed him upon awakening from the rubble, they may have gotten what they wanted. Still, the fact that our plans result in peace with the Zonai is placating them for now. They'll come back around to my leadership in time, I am sure."

"But you haven't told them about our arrangement?" Khanot inquired.

"No. Nor do I need to," Yagamura said with a casual wave of his hand. "I will appoint people from my own household to oversee the provinces you are giving me. They'll be shapeshifters at first, to prevent the peasants from getting suspicious until we acclimate them to the idea of Sheikah rule."

That fit well enough with his own ambitions, Khanot reflected approvingly.

"The question is when we start deposing local lords, of course, but I am sure after your loyalty checks we will have enough information to… oh!" Yagamura stopped, glancing out one of the council chamber's windows.

Khanot followed the Sheikah's attention and caught sight of a Rito messenger hovering outside the chamber. Before he could notice any details, however, the avian vanished from sight.

"What convenient timing," Yagamura said, his tone unexpectedly anxious. "That messenger is doubtless bringing word from Kakariko. I should receive him and see what they have to say. Hopefully, I will return with good news. In the meantime, I bid you farewell, my lord."

With that, the white haired man departed, leaving Khanot to himself. Part of him wondered why the Rito would have been instructed to interrupt what could very well have been an important meeting for a mere message from Kakariko. He knew that Sheikah politics were tense, but were they really so urgent?

It has been drawn!

A feeling of intense dread hit him with the force of a molduga. Instinctively, Khanot conjured an orb of red lightning in his hand, ready to face a threat. The dread mixed with panic and rage, the confusing mix building by the second like a sandstorm in the night.

The blade has been drawn! The sword of the accursed enemy has been freed!

Khanot tried to comprehend the sensations and messages emerging from the power within his soul.

You must stop him before it's too late! Kill the warrior! Kill him!

"Who? Who do I have to kill?" Khanot muttered to himself, unable to communicate clearly with the presence through its intense reaction.

The boy who bears the Master Sword! The Zonai warrior. Link.

"He's… alive? How? I thought I killed him at the Temple of Time!"

Blight pursued him, engaged him, slew him, but Twilight interfered. The Song of Healing. Distraction. He still lives! Our eternal foe!

Khanot's head spun, images of some sort of twisted guardian stabbing Link in the fields beside the Temple of Time. The sight of him dressed in green as he had been on that fateful day caused him to burn with hatred once more. Then, the image mixed with a scene of the same warrior standing on a pedestal in a forest with a shining blade held skyward in his glowing green hand. Through the haze, he recognized that he felt as strongly about the sword as he did about the warrior.

"I… where is he?"

North! They are north!

The Gerudo wanted to curse and demand the power calm itself and give him clear instructions. As if his desire had been communicated, the storm within began to calm. He felt the pull northward even stronger and dedicated his faculties to explore it. A few moments later, his vision began to swim.

"…our pleas! Oh, Flame f'Din!" a voice called out.

Focusing on it, Khanot swam as if through an ocean of black nothingness. Suddenly, he saw a light, like a campfire on a dark night in the Gerudo desert. He pursued it, letting it grow brighter and brighter until it engulfed him.

And suddenly, Khanot's senses materialized on an altar atop an enormous stone structure. A feeling of disorientation just like when he peered through the Phantom's molten eyes overtook him, bidding him to study his surroundings. It appeared that he had taken root atop an enormous Zonai Grafensted within a wicked magenta flame. This flame caught his eye at once. In his years of being an ally to the Zonai, Khanot had seen much of the spectral green glow of Zonai spirit magic and the torches of the same hue that marked their sacred gravesites. This mystical fire's existence was in no small part a principal cause of the war with the Sheikah to begin with.

Yet, whatever had happened at the Grafensted before Khanot, he recognized that this was not the traditional magic of the Zonai, sourced from their fallen ancestors. It was not a flame lit to calm a troubled soul, but a blaze of rage, hatred, and despair designed to consume and destroy. Focusing on it, Khanot felt the crimson blazing in place of green on every torch in the Grafensted and saw it singing the chests of two Wolf Warriors who had tried to use it for a Skeldrite. In its wake, the whole host seemed to radiate a ferocity unlike anything Khanot had seen from the Zonai before.

It is my flame, a gift to the faithful.

Studying the scene more closely, he noticed a shaman bowing deeply before him, the man's bloodstained hands holding a knife. The smell of burning hair and meat revealed that some sort of animal had been sacrificed on the altar by the shaman. Somehow, the death seemed to empower Khanot's senses, allowing him to expand his perception beyond the temple's top.

"Oh, great being f'Power and Hate! Hear us!" the shaman prayed, his voice somehow malignant and reverent at the same time.

In a flash, Khanot understood what he was supposed to do. Reaching out to magenta flames around him, he began to twist them into a shape. But what shape? Peering around, he took notice of the host of Zonai prostrated below the temple beneath the red banners of the Boar Tribe. Yes! Of course! A boar! With that directive, he finished manifesting the flame. The resulting creature was a massive Boar made of crimson and magenta with streaks of fire so bright they appeared white running down its back. Opening its mouth, Khanot spoke.

"I hear you, shaman of the Zonai!" Khanot managed to say through it, his voice deep and resonant.

The shaman jumped, his eyes wide with shock. Then, with a grin of satisfaction, he returned to his worshipful pose.

"Flame f'Din! We worship y'and offer these sacrifices in your name, and y'have blessed us with th'crimson fire f'vengeance. Now, tell us! Command your servants! How do we find th'power we desire t'bathe Hyrule in chaos? How do we strike back against th'defilers and have our revenge?"

Both in person in Hyrule Castle and in the shape of the burning boar, Khanot smiled as his mind raced. He didn't understand what all was happening yet, but he saw enough. The Zonai tribe of the Boar had reached out to him. He could answer them through their rituals, and they would obey. There were other ways for him to extend his gaze and power over Hyrule. And as for the warrior the power within him seemed to fear, who would be better to hunt a Zonai warrior than other Zonai?

"I have a mission for you…" Khanot began.