They were again in their secret entrance—the tunnel connecting the outer rim of Capital City to the very core of Hylium Castle.
Dank.
Dark.
Lonesome.
Zelda and Saria remained connected in spite of shadow, but Link was left to flounder in the darkness, following the sound of their scrapes as he shuffled across the scraggy floor in their wake. No light shined through the ceiling to guide their way as it had when they had entered, leaving Link without knowledge of where the tunnel would way of knowing where the shadows ended.
He felt calm, in spite of the circumstances.
Zelda held a one-sided whisper of an exchange with Saria, none of which Link could make out.
He stepped over a large object impeding his path.
Hylium Castle was their destination—a tall, octagonal castle in the center of Capital City that bore only the loosest of connections to the distant place Link had known as Castle Town. Again, he was forced to walk among shadows, kept in the dark by a Zelda who refused to divulge the specifics of their destination—save to Saria.
Saria.
In darkness, Link mouthed the name to himself, unable to keep from associating it with someone else.
The dual sets of scratchy footsteps ahead of him came to a halt, as did he.
He felt hot breath in his ear. "You will say nothing," said Zelda, wrapping snake-like fingers around his bicep. "You will fight only if I signal. And you will not forget your place."
Zelda was away.
From somewhere, dust and rock fell against the floor as boots and knees ran against stone.
And then light.
Not a blinding feed of lamps and fires as it had been in streets of Capital City, but a dim yellow glow that seemed only to exist as an afterthought. Link could again make out Zelda, standing atop a pile of rubble to push open a block in the ceiling. And Saria, ever at her side, whom Zelda offered a hand to so that the girl could step up beside her.
Zelda pulled herself through the narrow hole in the ceiling. Saria followed her.
Link was left in the dark.
Had he more options, he would have considered them.
He had none.
Link followed Zelda through the hole, removing himself from the tunnel with arms of sinewy darkness.
They had emerged within the ruined foundation of a circular stone tower, decrepit and unstable.
"The remains of the second Hyrule Castle," said Zelda without being asked, withdrawing her golden pocket-watch in order to check the time. "Building the new on the foundations of the old. There's irony hidden somewhere in there, I'm sure."
She looked to her left, where a fragile looking staircase ran up the wall, leading up a deep spiral to the ceiling, where the tower-actual waited for them.
"Don't trip, Hero," said Zelda as she took the steps two at a time, never faltering in her steps.
Link was not so quick to follow. Each step was perilous—and separated by a gap of several inches, creating a hazard for the unwary foot. Even as Saria dashed away after Zelda, taking the steps with much the same grace as her mistress, Link remained careful in his strides.
Bu Zelda—she stepped with enthusiasm. She stepped with eagerness; with a bounce in her stride befitting of one who had just returned home.
When she reached the ceiling, she eased herself up against the final stone panel that separated them from all that was thought dead ages past. Zelda pressed her fingers against the rough of the stone—and savored it. A brief intermission before the grand finale.
She pushed and slid the panel aside.
It was a reckless thing to do.
A stupid thing.
She did so anyway.
Torchlight.
It was no more than anything else had been—no more remarkable. Zelda hesitated a moment, as though expecting more from her return, before hefting herself up and over. Saria followed, as did the Hero soon after.
The room was square and the floor was smooth.
"Marble," Zelda said to no one.
Around them, lighting was minimal. Circular stone walls crafted of material matching that of the floor stretched up above them, leading to another floor. A staircase ran up the inside of the tower—narrower than the first, but protected by guardrails. Alongside it were pictures of men and women both young and old.
The Harkinian line.
"Mistress," said Saria, at last eliciting sound from silence. "The Tower of Lore—"
"I know," said Zelda.
Saria's words fell away.
"The Master Sword's here?" the Hero said.
"No," said Zelda. "Power. Think, Hero. The word is synonymous with everything that Ganon is."
A pause.
"Oh," said Link.
Saria did not share his crestfallen tone. Unloosing her hair from its bun, she looked to the floor above, where stairs and pictures continued simultaneously until both disappeared into the section above. "Mistress, your portrait—"
"Still there, I imagine," said Zelda, staring ahead to the connecting tunnel that linked the Tower of Lore to the keep of Hylium Castle. "Even when I turned treasonous, Ganon would never have the heart to remove it."
"Why not?" said Link.
The electric tingle of the Hero's glare straightened the hairs on the back of Zelda's neck. Even so, she smiled. "Ganon's Legion has controlled Hylium for three decades. Close as I am to that mark, I am merely twenty-eight." Zelda reached into her pocket and withdrew her golden pocket-watch. "Piece it together."
When the Hero remained silent, Zelda replaced the watch in her pocket and continued forward to the arched entryway on the opposite tide of the tower's bottom floor, an entryway leading through a darkened stone passageway to Hylium Castle's keep.
"Mistress—it's in the throne room, isn't it?" said Saria.
Zelda smiled and nodded. "I believe so. Ganon will be watching over it."
"But how will we fight him if we cannot get to the sword, mistress?"
"We'll figure something out."
"Will he recognize you, mistress?" Saria shrank into herself, finding the last few words difficult to voice. "You are his daughter—but you ran away."
The smile on Zelda's face turned to something pensive and nostalgic. "He will, but it will not protect us. That which binds fathers and daughters is so easily broken."
At that, Link narrowed his eyes.
Zelda's smile was again coy. She wordlessly stepped through the archway, her companions in tow.
In the back of her mind, she took notice of the lack of life. No servant, no guard, not even the soundless scratching of a spider scurrying across the stone of the ceiling. She quietly acknowledged the risks that accompanied such silence, but did not voice them to the others.
They continued for a ways silence before finally reaching the keep.
It was an octagonal fortress five stories tall with towers built off each point. Each floor lined the outside of the first, leaving the middle open to onlookers from all five. The chamber itself was illuminated by an elaborate chandelier dangling from the ceiling, swaying as though caught in some invisible breeze.
Zelda's steps slowed, but never did she veer from her intended target, a smooth marble throne matching the craftsmanship of the Tower of Lore.
Upon that throne was Ganondorf, resting a sword with a blue hilt and a scabbard of gold across his lap.