The dig site foreman was a Goron—a swollen, boulder-like people indigenous to areas of the world uninhabitable by most. With skin as tough as granite and as tan as sandstone, they towered a time and a half over the other races of the world. Across the chest, the stone took on the form of more humanoid muscle, providing the build of a titan. This particular Goron was older, his skin cracked with age, and overseeing the final preparations for inspection.
When Lord Geoffrey and Princess Zelda arrived, it was the foreman who greeted them. Though he mustered a bow as they exited their coach, the slight impact it had on his height was unnoticeable.
"Foreman Korn," Geoffrey said, gesturing to the Goron. "The tribe to the north was kind enough to lend him to me for a short period of time."
Zelda nodded. She by two; a young Human woman with an air of defiance about her, and a pale Kokiri girl whose head never moved above the feet of the others present.
"We've prepared your entrance, Lord Geoffrey—Goro." The final word seemed compulsive.
"Thank you, Korn." Geoffrey stepped aside. "This is Her Highness, princess Zelda. She is the only living expert on the old world. I've requested that she inspect the temple."
The Goron bowed again, an act that shifted his entire body.
Zelda was silent, so Geoffrey beckoned onward. They traversed scaffolding that groaned beneath the immense weight of the Goron, descending lower into a crude ovular pit. Several layers of rocks could be observed as they went. At ground level, some four hundred feet down, a motley gathering of workers worked to reinforce walls and chip away at stone, some human, others of the same species as the foreman—Goron. They seemed at ease in the long shadow cast by the setting sun.
Korn clapped his hands together, a slight gesture that sent a thunderclap of noise throughout the dig site.
All were silent and attentive, turning their gazes to the foreman, then to Princess Zelda.
"This is Her Highness," Korn said. "She's beyond my authority here—Goro. She's here to examine the temple. Her word is law—Goro."
There was no formal acknowledgement, but the air of the works changed.
Zelda held her hands together behind her back and moved through the site. Large fragments of stone were cut away to serve as tables and stools. Half a dozen cots were set up to treat those wounded by cave-ins. One man writhed in agony, suffering through the aftermath of an amputated arm.
Korn took the lead again, followed by Geoffrey, and led the way to a smaller tunnel sealed off by a makeshift door cut away from a larger piece of steel. Even sealed against the rockface as it was, the Goron pulled it away without effort, bending the metal in half and slumped it against the ground. The way inside was completely black, defying even the minimal lighting provided by the setting sun.
Zelda's expression was unchanged. "Saria," she said.
The girl with the green hair lifted her gaze.
"You will lead. I need your abilities."
A twisted glance from Arielle.
Saria hesitated. She pressed her hand against the wall, peered inside, and entered. For a moment, she was lost to the world. Then a flame appeared in the darkness, hovering before Saria.
Zelda approved, though she did not exhibit it. She followed, stepping into the glow of Saria's flame. Geoffrey followed. It was a silent procession. Neither Korn nor the rest of the workers uttered a word as nobility and royalty alike disappeared into the darkness of the underground.
The path within suffered only a minor descent, but outside light seemed to vanish after only ten feet of travel.
"A Goron," Zelda said, at last striking up an exchange.
Geoffrey shrugged. "Part of a trade agreement. They grant my family two dozen Goron workers in exchange for a twenty percent share of refined mineral production."
Zelda nodded. Ahead of her, the girl with the green hair was silent. Out of the sun, Zelda noticed a depression in the girl's shoulders and a wilting of her hair. Even her movements slowed, though the decrease was hardly noticeable.
The inner layer of the tunnel was wet—a sharp contrast to the dryer stone of the exterior. With each breath, Zelda felt she inhaled water. In between footsteps, the occasional drop of liquid running down the cave walls was the only noise to disrupt their thoughts. Many minutes passed before anything more occurred.
The tunnel eventually expanded, growing in size till it was massive enough to allow for the height of Hylium's Grand Keep. The flame light offered by Saria's magic did not stretch far enough to illuminate the cave's chamber, but it revealed the beginnings of a poignant silhouette, one that stretched through the ceiling covering the cave—a building.
Zelda stepped forward, treading across muddied ground. "Expand the flame."
Saria did so, though the resulting flame flickered, less stable its smaller self.
The expanded flame granted an expanded view. Ruined stonework, shattered clay flowerpots. Before them, a crumbling staircase giving into to the callings of age.
Zelda moved forward, passing Saria. The girl was quick to follow.
They reached a wall—a door. It was small, unassuming, unbefitting of anything notable. Above, a roof adorned by three pointed spires, two smaller to each side, the tallest in the center.
Zelda ran a hand across the material of the door. A small layer of grime coated her fingers. "Material predating the Third Era," she said. "The stonework lacks the refinement seen after the Age of Imperialism."
The others were silent.
Zelda's hand moved to the knob, a large piece of brass that had survived time itself. When she pulled, the entire door unhinged, tumbling inward. Securing herself on the archaic doorframe, Zelda stepped over the decrepit entryway and into darkness. Saria's light came soon after, illuminating the floor before Zelda completed the first step.
Something soft crumbled beneath her feet. Carpet-red. Even in the orange light of fire, Zelda recognized the color. Red carpet leading down a central aisle, frayed and torn, its edges eaten away by whatever creatures thrived in darkness. On either side, pews lined up as though for worship. Half were missing, the other half rotten with age.
"Amazing," breathed Geoffrey, though it was the only description he offered.
Zelda looked to the girl with the green hair, who maintained her flame a safe distance from the others, her eyes lost in thought.
"Do you recognize anything, Saria?"
A halfhearted shake of the head.
Zelda said nothing else and continued onward. Ahead: a stone alter angled to face whatever crowd might once have assembled. A brush of Zelda's hand revealed the inscriptions beneath to be intact, albeit it weathered. The words were Ancient Hylian. "Can you read it, Arielle?"
The younger woman stood next to Zelda and leaned down for a closer look at the inscription. "'Ye who owns three Spiritual Stones / Stand with the Ocarina of Time / And play the Song of Time'," Arielle said.
Zelda smiled. "Do you recognize the words, Geoffrey?"
The younger man seemed surprised at the question. "Only from what you've told me."
"And what did I tell you?"
A moment's realization, then Geoffrey fell into awe. "The Temple of Time," he said, unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice. "Spiritual Stones, an Ocarina—the tools used by—"
"The Hero of Time, yes; in the timeline that never was."
She looked for further inscriptions, but there were none to be found. The three stones mentioned by the altar were also absent. The edges of Zelda's mouth tightened, but she said nothing, choosing instead to move forward. Not many steps along, she came across a barrier: a massive pair of stone double doors, across which was carved the symbol of Hylium: the Mark of the Three elevated from beneath by a rising thunderbird.
"The Temple of Time," Zelda said, as though she herself could not believe it. She crossed her arms and stared at the door.
Soft steps. Geoffrey approached her in the darkness. "You knew it was the Temple of Time all along."
"I did. Through my own findings, I uncovered five of the other seven temples of the First Era. The sixth no longer exists. As such, this was the only conclusion." She tilted her head to the side. "This door is in my way. Your foreman was responsible for breaking through the blockages leading to the temple?"
"…I believe so."
"I have need of him."
Korn was led down by Geoffrey, the Goron's expression changing little as he was guided up the crumbling steps and into the Temple of Time. His massive form struggled to stay low enough to navigate the tunnels, erected without much thought of accommodating a Goron. When he was led into the temple proper, he said only, "Yes—Goro," when he was told of Zelda's dilemma and presented with the great stone door blocking her way.
In the light of Saria's flame, Korn made a brief show of cracking the stone of his knuckles before slamming his left hand into the door.
The temple quaked.
He punched with his right.
Two large craters appeared in the door, spider web cracks stretching from each. Korn repeated the blows, alternating his left and right hands. Each impact, the temple shook and the cracks grew, stretching until they encompassed the lower half of the great stone barrier
Korn paused.
The final blow rocked the ground beneath his feet and tore the door down. It collapsed inward, stone fragments falling into the next room. The upper half of the stone remained intact, shattered along the middle.
Zelda clapped once. "Thank you, Korn. Your services are no longer required."
The Goron turned to face her, bowed, and departed, saying not a word.
The room before Zelda's party seemed impervious to the fire provided by Saria. No matter the size of the flame, the light never stretched into the next room.
"Geoffrey," Zelda said. "Your sword."
Geoffrey reached for the long sword sheathed against his waist, but hesitated.
"I am more capable of handling myself than you." She reached out her hand. "Give me your sword."
Geoffrey hesitated again, but relented.
The others were silent, moving back into the darkness.
Zelda with a slight twist of the hand gestured for Saria to enter through the hole left by Korn. She did, a flame burning perpetually before her. Despite the light, the chamber they entered remained black, refusing to be illuminated. Saria increased the intensity of the flame, but it was for naught. The flame granted light only to a small perimeter around the two.
Several steps in, all sight of their entryway faded.
The floor was marble-like in its sheen.
A section of the stone further into the chamber jutted upward, creating a small rise. Seated upon it was a rectangular pedestal, smaller at top than it was at bottom. On top, a slit where a blade might once have been inserted.
Zelda knelt before it. "Saria," she said.
The girl adjusted her flame, allowing for Zelda to peer into the pedestal.
Inside and near the bottom, a pressure panel in the pedestal that would compress if ever a long-blade was inserted. Zelda drew Geoffrey's sword forth and slid it into the pedestal, an imperfect fit that nonetheless put it in contact with the switch. A soft click.
She stood.
Nothing.
She tautened, listening for even the slightest change.
Saria's flame vanished.
Zelda twisted her gaze around. She no longer felt the girl's presence.
"You violate this place." The words were uttered without tone and without gender. They came from all around.
Even in darkness, Zelda smiled. She cracked her neck and twisted her arms. "A guardian, I suppose? What are you? One of the Dark Link constructs? Sheikah? It's been some time since I experienced a challenge."
The intruder did not respond to the goad.
"How many of the Ancient Sages remain? That is why you're here, isn't it? To guard the dogs that fled, tails between their legs?"
An unexpected blow against Zelda's cheek. Closed fist. Had she not turned her head at the last minute, it would have fractured her jaw. But the attacker disappeared the moment it was cast, leaving Zelda again in total darkness.
"Sheikah," Zelda said. "And I've suppose you've taken the others? That was very good."
A rapid series of blows from the darkness, aimed at Zelda's midsection. She twisted and countered, grabbing hold of the attacker's arm while sending her opposite hand into the figure's stomach. Contact, but the attacker retreated, vanishing from Zelda's grasp as quickly as they had arrived.
The make of the intruder's clothing was skintight, but thick. The size of the arm and the shape of the hand suggested female.
Three blows from the intruder.
Three parries from Zelda. She twisted, wrapping the attacker's arm around her shoulder and flipped them against the ground. The attacker fell, but not before recovering. They planted their feet against the ground and propelled themselves upward, back into the darkness.
Zelda widened her stance, lifted her hands into ready position, and smirked. "A Sheikah then. I've never fought one of your kind before."
The attacker moved from behind Zelda, their movements no louder than the wing beat of a moth—but they were loud enough. Zelda allowed the fist to move between her chest and her arm before grabbing it. In a single movement, she wrenched. A crack followed. Dislocation.
The attacker uttered no word of pain, but slipped again into the darkness.
Zelda paused.
A brief disturbance among the shadows. The next attack was clumsy. The intruder suppressed pain, but could not eliminate it. A rapid series of blows, each of which Zelda deflected. She reached out, wrapping a hand around the attacker's neck. It was flesh, trained and empowered over time, but flesh nonetheless. In her grasp, a cripple.
But then a searing pain arose in her arm, pain enough that Zelda was forced to release.
The shadow disappeared again.
Zelda retracted her hand, finding half a dozen blades as narrow as needles driven into her forearm. She drew them out all at once. Blood flowed freely from the wounds, darkening the fabric of her jerkin. It was with a wistful smile that she shifted them between the knuckles of her opposite hand.
A booming voice that echoed throughout the chamber: "Enough."
The area came alight, but it was not the stone chamber of the Temple of Time. Instead, Zelda found herself on a large circular platform suspended in darkness, its surface alight with the blue glow of perpetually flowing water.
Before her, a man garbed in long tan robes. He was hunched over, his skin wrinkled and aged, the few white hairs remaining on his crown barely clinging to his head. No matter the way he looked at Zelda, his eyes seemed distant.
"Enough," he said again, his voice no longer powerful. It was the voice of a man, shriveled and weak. "Why have you come?"
Again, Zelda smiled. "You will return the others to me. Then we will speak."
"Sheik," he said at last.
At last illuminated, the woman addressed as Sheik was of a slender frame. A skintight blue garb clung to most of her body; itself covered a pale gray cloth hanging over the woman's chest and back. On it was a large red eye. Though her form was feminine, her chest was clearly flattened by some artificial means. From the base of her neck to the mid of her nose, her face was covered by a white cloth. Bright blonde hair settled against tanned skin.
"I asked for the others."
"This place is not for them."
The woman—Sheik—vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing several moments later with Saria held in one hand. Against her chest, she nursed the broken arm, but showed no signs of pain.
"Sheik," Zelda said, as though testing out the name. "You name yourself with a fragment of your people?"
"Sheik is the last of her people," said the old man. "The name is her birthright." He walked a circle around Zelda, his hands brought together across his waist. He stepped above the perpetually flowing water of the stone platform, rather than through it.
Zelda lifted her chin. On her face, a hint of a smile. Her eyes followed the old man's movements.
"Why have you violated this place?"
"I think a better question is why you did."
"I am—"
"Sage Rauru Oranna, born in the year one-hundred-and-seventy of the First Era. Founder and overseer of the Temple of Time—and the original Sage of Light. Confidant to four generations of the Harkinnian royal bloodline and personal friend of both Princess Zelda Harkinnian VII and Link Second, later performing the Hero's wedding ceremony. Died at the age of three-hundred-and-forty-two, the second longest Hylian lifespan in recorded history."
Zelda slipped her hands behind her back.
"You're dead."
At her knowledge, the old man displayed only the barest twinges of shock.
"I saw to it that every document concerning you was burned and every story of your existence quelled—but not before I memorized each. It was only a matter of time before we met face to face." She smiled. "Or rather, flesh to ethereal matter."
The wrinkled flesh around Rauru's eyes tightened as he stopped in front of Zelda and narrowed his gaze.
"And you know who I am." Zelda lifted her chin. "I would be disappointed if you did not."
"Zelda Dragmire, spawn of King of Darkness."
A stiff chuckle. "Archaic. Yes, I am of his seed. Everything that is my father was inherited by me—but I am still Zelda."
"You are not the Princess of Destiny."
"There is no longer a 'Princess of Destiny', just as there is no longer a Hero of Time. Only my father possesses a fragment of the golden power—the other two are lost." Zelda shifted her stance. "I am the last remaining link to the original Hero. The Master Sword will accept me and it will strike down the King of Darkness."
"The blade is not here."
"Was the Sage of Light always a terrible liar?"
Sheik released Saria, who fell the ground unconscious, and began to step forward. Rauru held up a hand to warn her off. "The sacred blade is not yours."
"Then I will tear down your temple."
There was no verbal response from Rauru, but his hands began to twitch.
"If you know me, Sage of Light, then you know I have done far worse. You are a ghost and a lapdog. The world knows nothing of you and would know nothing of your passing."
"No matter your power, the sword is not yours to take. Only the Link is capable of drawing it."
Zelda's smirk grew. She turned and moved towards the unconscious Saria, laid at the Sheikah's feet. "We will see."
"Your father placed his own guardian in the sword chamber."
Zelda paused. "What sort of guardian?"
Rauru cocked his head to the side and lifted his arms as though to demonstrate a point. "A monster from the Second Era. Even defeated by the Hero, it did not die."
"Then I have something to kill."
"It will rip you apart."
"The same way your Sheikah did." Zelda adjusted her grip on Saria. "When the girl awakes, place her, myself, and Arielle in the sword chamber. We will see how strong this 'guardian' is."