Ya-ha-ha! Corrupted Hero is back, baby!
Gosh, I deeply apologize for the huge delay. But I got into a bit of a funk, had a couple virus scares, started school again, and all in all just hated everything I was writing. But I've gotten over my slump (with a little help from some good books and playing a lot of Age of Calamity), and finally got back in the swing of things. Yay!
With that, may I present chapter 22 of Corrupted Hero — I hope it was worth the wait. Here, we deal with some aftermath of the spirit's antics, as well as our group looking forward to the upcoming Blood Moon. So exciting!
Before I go, I just want to thank you all, new and long-time readers, for your support and patience. This story means a lot to me, and I'm glad it's getting some traction. You inspire me, and I hope I can continue to entertain you.
With that, read on! This update is nice and long, just for you. ;) Enjoy!
Before he could stifle it, a burst of furious panic sent Link tearing after Phantom Ganon. Eyes alight, he stormed off the stage, one hand outstretched, reaching for where the spirit had vanished. Phantom Ganon couldn't just leave him with that again — that cunning, borderline-maddening lure that he always dangled in front of his face. Like he was his dog. It was absolutely infuriating. And Link had had just about enough.
"Phantom!? Get back here!" Link roared, his voice shattering the suffocating silence. "You can't just — !"
But Link choked mid-sentence. He ground to a halt, his spine locking up when a spike of bitter cold pierced his lower back. Like a creeping fog, a strange sensation flowed over his spine, seeping into his muscles, his blood, his bones, saturating him. A shudder ripped through him as whatever-it-was crawled up his neck and slipped into his skull, coiling around his brain like a snake.
For a moment, Link's heart stampeded with terror — he had no idea what was happening to him. He could barely move. Whatever-this-was had stung his brain with paralysis. But then it hit him like a lightning strike. This sensation… it was somewhat familiar. He realized with a rush of horror that had felt this before.
But that meant — ?!
Sucking in a gasp, Link clamped his hands over his temples and crashed to his knees, jerking his head against a familiar voice that slithered between his ears.
Can't just what? Phantom Ganon wondered. Leave you? His voice, deep and darkly ardent, filled every crevice of Link's mind, numbing his brain. Cooing, the spirit continued, Aww, don't worry, Master, I could never leave you. I'm right here. Always will be.
Link's shoulders suddenly sank as if the spirit was draping his arms around him. The hairs on the nape of Link's neck shot up, his teeth chattering as Phantom Ganon purred, Tell me, did you miss me terribly?
Link's paralysis lifted slightly at the spirit's words, his brow twisting. Miss him? Miss him?! Perish the thought! Link hadn't missed this. He hated this. Goddesses above, he hated every second of this. It made his skin crawl, his blood boil. He wanted to scream in Phantom Ganon's face, to thrash and flail, but the spirit's embrace was nothing short of paralytic.
Fortunately, Link's abject revulsion wrenched him out of Phantom Ganon's hold. Snarling, Link gave a ferocious jerk, doubling over. Through gritted teeth, he glowered into the floor and drilled his fingers into his hair, desperate to push out the spirit's affections.
"G-get out of my head," Link spat under his breath.
A momentary pause. Remarkably, the spirit obeyed — somewhat. Link gasped with relief as Phantom Ganon pulled back, the weight on his shoulders easing. But a chuckle echoed through Link's skull, rattling his spine.
You missed me, Phantom Ganon crooned. Ahh, it's good to be back.
Link stared blankly into the floor as the spirit's voice dissipated. He swallowed, struggling to regain control of himself; he was shaking from head to toe, his temples, palms, and underarms damp. His body felt heavier for some reason, even without the spirit leaning on him, his blood frothing as it shot through his veins. Good Goddess, what had Phantom Ganon done to him?
Link knew exactly what. Though it horrified him to admit it, he had indeed felt this… intrusion, before. Back at the lake. It was as familiar as it was unnerving.
But, familiar as it was, something was different about this time. Something uncanny. Phantom Ganon hadn't barged into Link's mind like he had before. No, he had sauntered inside, settling down and getting comfortable — as if he was coming home and kicking up his feet.
As Link knelt there, disturbed by Phantom Ganon's resurgence, a grim reality crept into his mind like poison. For better or worse — and he had no idea which — their efforts had been a success. They had done what the spirit wanted; they had fixed the Sheikah Slate, freed him from Maz Koshia. And though he couldn't presently see Phantom Ganon, Link nevertheless shuddered at the knowledge that he was back in their midst — back inside his head.
Until that moment, Link hadn't realized just how peaceful — how roomy, even — his mind had been in the spirit's absence. But no longer. Now, there was a distinct shadow lurking in the back of his mind, an added weight on his hip. Truly, Link hadn't appreciated his solace until it was gone. And he had a sinking feeling he would never get it back.
The notion haunted him for a moment, but he didn't dwell on it for very long. From the stage, Purah, Symin, and Maz Koshia watched his reunion with Phantom Ganon with slack-jawed dread. Purah and Symin exchanged a wild-eyed glance. Though they hadn't the faintest idea of what was happening, they nevertheless flew to Link's aid, scrambling off the stage and crying out for him.
But Maz Koshia had an inkling as to what was going on. The mere thought filled him to the brim with disgust. That wretched spirit — that parasite — cozied up inside Link's head.
The monk's spine stiffened against the wall, his nose wrinkling. If Link's experience was anything like his own — a cacophony of hissing insults, headaches, black sarcasm and contempt — then he wouldn't tolerate it. Not for a second. That was the last thing Link needed. As Purah and Symin dashed off the stage for Link, Maz Koshia attempted to follow, inflamed and raring to tear into Phantom Ganon.
But the monk only managed to gather to his knees before a firestorm of sharp, scalding pain tore through his chest. Maz Koshia crumbled to the stage with a strangled grunt, his hands flying to his side. His face drained when his fingers met the rugged edges of several shattered ribs straining against his skin. He sucked in a gasp, only for his breath to catch and ignite in his lungs, plunging him into a heavy, guttural coughing fit.
Purah and Symin skidded to a stop near Link; the three of them gave a collective jolt, whirling around. Link's heart plunged into his stomach at the sight of Maz Koshia, curled into a foetal ball and hacking up droplets of Malice onto the floor. On his hip, the Sheikah Slate watched with dark delight.
Link's shock instantly rotted into caustic horror. "Oh, no," he breathed. Barely even looking at Purah and Symin, Link launched to his feet and broke into a sprint for the stage, the two Sheikah hot on his heels.
In Link's haste, he caught his toe on the lip of the stage — his breakneck speed drove him flat onto his face. His mouth tanged with blood as his lip split against the floorboards, but he hardly registered it. No, he clambered back up and to Maz Koshia's side as if nothing had happened. A bit of blood was the least of his problems.
Knelt beside Maz Koshia, Link reached out to try and soothe him. But he caught himself, his eyes falling on the pulsating sludge slathering his hands. Link's heart crushed; he knew that if he so much as grazed Maz Koshia's skin, he would burn him. As much as Link ached to help, he didn't dare touch the monk. All he could do was watch.
Purah and Symin quickly joined them. While Symin scrambled around them to try and stabilize Maz Koshia instead, Purah leaned before Link's face, eying the blood dribbling down his chin.
"Y-you okay?" she asked.
"'m fine." Link mumbled, brushing her off. Squirming, he pressed his palms against the stage, leaning toward Maz Koshia as he continued to fight to breathe. "Maz — Maz?!" Link urged above his coughing. "C'mon, Maz!"
The monk, in the throes of a cough, could only respond by nodding. But Symin, his hand on the monk's back, swiveled his head, breathing to Link and Purah, "Hang on, he's coming around."
Sure enough, the monk's fit soon began to peter out — thank the goddess. With a grimace, Maz Koshia gave one final, chunky cough before drawing in a raspy breath through his teeth. He held his side, grunting and pinching his eyes shut against the suffocating pain garroting his chest.
"Ngh…" he mumbled, his voice gritty. "D-damn that ghost…!" His brow pinched. "I should've known he'd pull something like this..."
Link's heart stuttered, both at Maz Koshia's words, and the subsequent flash of heat that burst from the Sheikah Slate.
Knows me so well, doesn't he? Phantom Ganon snickered.
Link's hand flew to the Sheikah Slate, a glare seizing his brow. But he didn't give it any more thought. The monk was far more important. But what exactly had Phantom Ganon pulled?
"Maz, are you all right?!" Link wheezed, surging forward.
The monk grunted again in response, giving a heavy nod. "I-I'm fine…"
But Link was wholly unconvinced. He ran his bulging eyes over the monk — he was still curled up, gripping his side, his breath hot and shallow.
"Fine?!" Link echoed. "You were possessed a second ago! That…" he trailed off, his mind bleeding with flashes of the sickening twist the monk's body had given before the spirit freed himself. Squirming, Link finished, "...That looked like it hurt."
To their shock, Maz Koshia reiterated, "I'll be fine — really. But I think..." He cut off, sucking in a hiccoughed gasp. "I think Phantom Ganon… kn-knocked something loose…"
He then lifted his hands, revealing his rib cage to them. It was malformed and crumpled, bits of his ribs nearly piercing his skin. But that was nowhere near the worst of it. A large chunk of the monk's rib cage moved paradoxically from his brisk, agonized breaths; it sunk into his chest when he inhaled, and pushed out when he exhaled, as if something inside him was trying to claw its way out.
Link's eyes bugged, horror goring his stomach. He had no idea what he was looking at. But even then, it didn't take him nor Purah and Symin long to realize that something was grossly wrong with Maz Koshia.
"Oh — ! Oh my goddess…!" Purah squeaked, clamping her hands over her mouth.
In spite of his wounds, the monk continued to try to downplay the situation, grunting, "Must've broken off… when he left… But it's all right. We'll j-just need some glue…"
"Glue?!" Link choked.
Symin's jaw dropped. He began to shake his head wildly. "Forget the glue — we need to take a look at you right now." He grabbed Maz Koshia's shoulder and motioned for Link to do the same, urging him, "Link, help me with him — we have to get him under the Guidance Stone — now!"
Symin's dire tone sent a shock into Link's blood. He had only been this tense after Link had broken Maz Koshia's neck. Feeling suddenly nauseous, Link nodded, shuffling forward and casting his arms out, ready to assist. But something stopped him. His gaze again lingered on his shaking, slimy hands.
Link swallowed. "Hang on, I-I need gloves." He knew exactly where he could find some.
"Let me grab the Slate Lite," Purah added.
"Take your time…" Maz Koshia murmured, firming his grip on his side. "I'm not going anywhere."
Despite the monk's dismissiveness, Link knew he couldn't waste a second. Without another word, he shot to his feet and doubled back for the table at the heart of the lab. Purah followed after him, her sights set on the Slate Lite. It was on the table as well; she would need it to run an analysis on Maz Koshia.
But the pair only made it as far as the edge of the stage when something caught their eyes. Rather, someone.
They found Phantom Ganon reclined in a chair, his feet kicked up on the table. He wore a pair of smelter's gloves as he fiddled with the Slate Lite. The device was comically small in his hands. Tapping its screen, he cocked his head and held it out at arm's-length before his face, whereupon a faint click sounded. Lowering it back into his lap, he inspected the screen, grinning to himself.
"Ooh, that's a keeper," he hummed.
Link stopped cold. The sight of the spirit immediately dissolved the horror stewing in his blood into something else. Something feral. Link grimaced as his Malice gave a heavy thump, lurching his body forward. The three Sheikah beside him stiffened, eyeing his Malice nervously.
"Link…" Maz Koshia cautioned.
But Link couldn't hear him. Not with Phantom Ganon there — the mere sight of him sent his pulse howling in his ears. Maz Koshia's horrific wounds… it was all the spirit's fault. And he was just sitting there. Link wanted to scream. But as much as he was baying to tackle the spirit out of his chair and rip his eye out, some semblance of control held him back. Link didn't have time to pick a fight — not now, anyway. He had to get the Slate Lite from Phantom Ganon. He had to help Maz Koshia.
Throwing himself off the stage, Link surged toward the spirit, demanding, "You! What are you doing?!"
The spirit casually turned his head, musing, "Who, me?"
Link's eyes flashed. "YES, YOU!" he bellowed, stomping up to greet the spirit. "What are you doing?!"
Though a faint grin glinted on his fangs, the spirit remained unphased by the venom in Link's voice. Shrugging a shoulder, he returned his attention to the Slate Lite, lazily flicking through its interface.
"I tell you, I just can't seem to take a good picture with this thing," he sighed. He shook his head, brushing a thumb along his jawbone. "Not that I blame myself — I mean, look at me, I'm gorgeous — it's this thing's crappy camera..." Angling the device toward Link, he wondered, "But what do you think?"
Link's eyes immediately flew to it. His lip curled when he found a collection of self-portraits of Phantom Ganon on the screen. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. But he didn't give a damn. The spirit was only wasting his time. And he had a feeling that was just his aim.
Teeth gritting, Link lunged forward to rip the Slate Lite out of the spirit's hands, spitting, "Give me that!"
But Phantom Ganon moved it out of his reach, thrusting his palm against Link's chest. "Why?" he wondered, cocking his head. "What could you possibly need this piece of junk for?"
"Hey!" Purah whimpered.
Link reached for the Slate Lite again, hissing, "We need to run a scan on Maz! Give it back!"
Scoffing, Phantom Ganon rolled his eye and flung aside the Slate Lite before Link could grab it. The device clattered across the table and onto the floor, garnering another squeak from Purah.
"No!" Link cried, flinging his arm out.
Easing his feet off the table, the spirit stood, sneering, "You won't be needing that."
Link glared at the Slate Lite where it lay. He didn't have time for this. Maz Koshia didn't have time for this. Growling, Link attempted to skirt around the spirit after the Slate Lite.
But Phantom Ganon caught him by the ponytail, wrenching him backward and throwing him into the chair. As it rocked beneath him, Link struggled to get up for a moment, only to stiffen. He shrunk into the chair, endeavoring to hide the shiver that raked his spine as Phantom Ganon towered over him.
Grinning down upon his master, the spirit stooped and plucked the Sheikah Slate off of Link's belt, making him flinch. He then leaned into Link's face and held the device out to him, luring, "All you need is in here, Master."
Link's heart murmured in his chest. His gaze flickered between the Sheikah Slate and Phantom Ganon. "Wh-what do you mean?" he breathed.
The spirit's eye glittered with something Link didn't have a name for. "It's been a long time since I've inhabited a body," Phantom Ganon began. His words sent a curdle through Link's blood. The spirit gestured his head toward Maz Koshia. "Before I left, I wanted to... commemorate the occasion. Go ahead, have a look inside. I've got a much better camera."
Against his better judgement, Link inspected the Sheikah Slate's screen, his stomach churning. At first glance, he had no idea what he was looking at. A full-body wireframe model of Maz Koshia occupied the screen, headlined with his name. Link's brows furrowed when he ran his eyes over several bright amber markers on the monk's model, highlighting his neck, lungs, stomach, and rib cage. The markers coincided with a block of text on the screen's margin, riddled with medical jargon.
Link had never seen anything like it. But as his brain scrambled to make sense of it, he slowly realized that he was looking at a comprehensive scan that Phantom Ganon had done of Maz Koshia. And it was… rather thorough. Link wasn't sure whether to be impressed or disturbed.
But something wasn't right. Phantom Ganon was never this helpful — especially when it came to Maz Koshia. What was he up to? Hylia only knew if Link could believe whatever data was on that cursed Sheikah Slate. Both he and the Sheikah in the room knew that very well.
Link backed into the chair, shaking his head. "No — n-no, I can't trust you — "
"Why not?" Phantom Ganon contested. "I've been in there. I know exactly what's wrong with him." Clamping a hand on Link's shoulder, the spirit forced the Sheikah Slate into his face, re-emphasising, "It's all in here. Take it, Master. I'm only trying to help."
"No, you're not!" Link fired back, squirming. "You don't care about Maz! You only care about yourself!"
The spirit seemed hurt by that. "Come now, that's not true. I care about you." He trailed his hand up, thumbing the blood off of Link's lip, purring, "More than you'll ever know…"
Link jerked away, crying, "Stop it! I know you aren't doing this for him. Why are you helping us?! Tell me the truth!"
The spirit paused. If he could blink, he would have. Instead, he snuck a glance to Maz Koshia, sighing, "Look, as much as I love watching him writhe, he's a distraction." Refocusing on Link, he added, "I need you well-rested, focused, for tomorrow — not mewling over his welfare." The spirit's eye then glowed like a hot coal as he waved the Sheikah Slate in Link's face. "Follow the data I have, and with a little glue, he'll be right as rain in no time. Now, do you want to help him or not?"
Unblinking, Link's gaze traveled from the Sheikah Slate and to Maz Koshia. Clinging to his side, the monk watched on with dread, his face wracked with agony. Link could hear his quick, stuttered gasps from where he sat. Link had never seen him like this. Powerful as the monk was, he needed help. And he needed it fast.
But Link's better judgement still gnawed at him. He couldn't bring himself to let his guard down around Phantom Ganon. Not now. Not ever. Link cringed away from the Sheikah Slate, his gaze flying to the Slate Lite on the floor. Phantom Ganon's shoulders sank at that, a low groan leaking out of him. Growing ever more frustrated, the spirit was about to grab Link by the throat and force the Sheikah Slate into his hands, but a voice interrupted him.
"Take it, Link," Maz Koshia called out. Link and Phantom Ganon's heads flew toward him. The monk's face twitched as he added, "I'll admit... I'm curious. I had no idea he could do that." He shook his head. "But whatever's on that Slate... w-we can always run a scan of our own."
Link swallowed. "Are you sure?"
The monk nodded. "Positive."
Grinning, Phantom Ganon turned to Link, holding out the Sheikah Slate to him. "You heard the monk," he purred. "It'll be just fine."
Link shuddered, but he complied, finally giving in to Phantom Ganon's insistence. Snatching the Sheikah Slate from him, Link rose from his chair and sped over to the stage. Phantom Ganon stepped aside, trailing behind him and looking over his shoulder.
Kneeling before the stage, Link held out the Sheikah Slate for everyone to see. Maz Koshia, Purah, and Symin crowded in close, feasting their eyes on the screen. Though the three Sheikah were each initially awed by the display, everyone's faces gradually stagnated as they read through the monk's symptoms. The list wasn't terribly long, thank the goddess. But the further they read, the worse it became.
Seven fractured ribs… Partial chest wall detachment... Onset pneumonia…
Link's heart went stone cold. What he had read rolled his stomach, shooting bile up his throat. Purah and Symin flushed white as ghosts. Whether out of physical necessity or shock, Maz Koshia lay statue-still, staring at the Sheikah Slate. A light chuckle burbled out of him as he held his heaving side wound.
"W-would you look at that...?" he breathed. But his tone was… off. It wasn't upset, disturbed. If anything, it was droning. As if he wasn't surprised by this morbid news.
But Link was too engrossed in the Sheikah Slate's data to notice. He couldn't pry his eyes from the screen — the crimson glyphs bled into his eyes, making his vision swim. Blinking rapidly, Link shook his head. "Th-this can't be right…!" he stammered. His head snapped up, flying toward Phantom Ganon. He leaned away from him, wailing, "Y-you're lying!"
Phantom Ganon cocked his head. "Am I? When have I ever lied to you?" He gestured to Maz Koshia, saying lowly, "It's just as the monk said, Master. I may be many things — devoted, damaged, deranged — but I am not a liar."
Link gagged on the bile climbing up his throat, his mind, much like his stomach, beginning to reel. Maybe it was because of his mounting panic, but he couldn't shake the horrible feeling that Phantom Ganon was right. He couldn't think of a single instance in which the spirit had told a lie. But he couldn't be telling the truth now — could he? No, this couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not to Maz Koshia.
As if reading his mind, the spirit shrugged, jabbing a thumb toward the Guidance Stone. "Go ahead and run a scan of your own if you don't believe me."
There was another momentary pause before Maz Koshia wheezed, "...He's right."
Link whirled on Maz Koshia, his eyes sparking with shock. "What?!"
Maz Koshia shook his head, continuing, "He's not a liar. There's no way he could have fabricated this. But, e-even then… I would like a second opinion." He twisted his head up to the Guidance Stone before looking to Link and Symin, requesting, "Help me up, will you please? It'll be quick."
Though he looked rather green in the face, Symin nodded, swallowing. Link shot to his feet, only for a hand to appear on his shoulder, stopping him from approaching Maz Koshia. He turned to face Phantom Ganon, flinching in his shadow. Everyone stared as the spirit extended his gloves to Link.
"You may need these," he said coolly.
They didn't waste another second. Once Link had donned the gloves and Purah retrieved the Slate Lite, everyone took their places. Phantom Ganon stood back, observing. Purah booted up the Slate Lite, hopping on anxious feet as she watched Link join Symin above Maz Koshia. The pair exchanged a quick nod before grabbing hold of either of the monk's biceps. On the count of three, they lifted him upright and to his feet as quickly, and gently, as they could.
Careful as they endeavored to be, Maz Koshia's body locked up as another battering ram of pain clobbered his ribs. A scream swelled against his chest, but he didn't dare let it out. Knees shaking, he slammed a hand against Link's sternum, digging his nails in, breaking skin.
Link winced. "Maz?!" he wheezed, his throat tightening.
"I'm f-fine...!" the monk gasped. "Quickly — !"
The trio shambled over to the Guidance Stone, kneeling Maz Koshia down beneath it, where he laid his face on the pedestal, gasping. Purah promptly executed its analytical procedure. Link fidgeted, his eyes glued to the glowing stalactite; it seemed to take ages for the Guidance Stone to do its work. But finally, a drop of blue light slipped off of it and onto Maz Koshia's snowy hair, absorbing into him. He shuddered as it traveled through him.
Purah scampered behind him, lifting his foot to collect the blue light building on the tips of his toes onto the Slate Lite. "Got it!" she announced.
Everyone promptly gathered around her — even Phantom Ganon craned his head to watch them take in the scan, a smug glow in his eye. Thankfully, the data was quick to come back. Link held up the Sheikah Slate, ready to compare it to the Slate Lite. When the device finally lit up with its findings, everyone but the spirit froze.
The two scans were identical. Same model, same markers, same symptoms.
"What'd I tell you?" Phantom Ganon mused.
Link stared, his face blank, at Maz Koshia's data, his heart in his throat. He threw down the Sheikah Slate and sat back on his heels. Breath accelerating, he dug his fingers into his hair, shaking his head frantically. "Oh goddess — !" he choked, his gut heaving. "This can't be happening — not to — " He cut off, his gaze flying to Maz Koshia's wound. He bit back a retch at the nauseating sight. "O-oh my goddess — !"
As Link's breath sped up, his Malice writhed on his arms, pulsating in-sync with the frenzied stampeding of his heart; he squirmed against it, doubling over and shrinking in on himself. Purah and Symin shied away. Meanwhile, Phantom Ganon watched Link's Malice with something akin to hunger. The spirit wandered closer, almost as if in a trance.
But Maz Koshia remained remarkably calm in spite of the circumstances. As he watched Link's downward spiral, the monk quickly turned to him, laying a hand on his cheek and drawing his head around toward him. Running his thumb along Link's skin, the monk locked their gazes and offered him as reassuring a smile as he could muster.
"Hey, hey, look at me, hero," he urged him tenderly. "There's no need to panic — really."
Tears stung Link's eyes. He shook his head, stammering, "H-how can you say that, Maz?! You're falling apart — look at you!"
Maz Koshia snorted, gesturing to his displaced ribs. "This?" he scoffed through gritted teeth. Link took his chin back at that, but the monk only compounded his stupefaction when he added, "Believe it or not… this isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me, Link."
Link froze, blinking off his horror as a fresh wave of shock pounded his brain. "...What?!"
Maz Koshia hung his head, an embarrassed grimace spreading his lips. "I haven't told you… about my accident, have I?" Everyone, even Phantom Ganon, stiffened as they awaited his tale. The monk gave a wheezy chuckle, though it pained him.
"Millennia ago," Maz Koshia began, swallowing. "I went to Mount Hylia — f-for a test run of the Master Cycle." He shook his head. "I… I had no idea what I was doing. I was young. Inexperienced. I lost control — drove myself straight off a cliff. By the time I hit the bottom, I had broken my hip and clavicle, shattered I don't know how many ribs, punctured a lung. The snow… s-so much red..." He snorted again, looking Link dead in the eye. "Do you know how long it took me to drag myself out of the snow and to the Shrine of Resurrection?"
A brief pause. All Link could do was stare, jaw dropped.
"Thirteen hours," Maz Koshia said. Link's heart skipped a beat. The monk then closed his eyes, reminiscing. "I thought I would die that day. But I didn't." He then focused on Link, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "I was preserved. For you. To train you. That is my divine mantle." He paused, offering Link a bold smile. "And it'll take a lot more than a little cough and some broken bones to take that away from me."
For a moment, Link and Maz Koshia held each others' gazes. The silent reassurance in the monk's glowing eyes soothed Link's hysteria; it was as if a weight was being pulled from his shoulders. All at once, Link's body and wracked expression eased, his shoulders slouching. Bowing his head, he buried his cheek into Maz Koshia's hand, holding it and gasping with relief. Swept up in the wake of the monk's consolation, Link didn't notice his Malice abruptly cease its thrashing.
But everyone else noticed. The three Sheikah paused, amazed. But Phantom Ganon stiffened.
Did that just…?
Maz Koshia risked a glance out of the corner of his eye to the spirit, but he was far too entrenched in the maelstrom of his mind to pay the monk any heed. The spirit's eye blazed with bafflement, his chains subtly rattling as he shuddered, struggling to comprehend if what he had just witnessed had actually happened.
Foreseeing another potential fit of violence from the spirit, Maz Koshia quickly changed the subject. "Right then," he announced, bringing Link's gaze up to him. He looked to his companions, stating with a grimace, "I'm… in a bit of pain. Now that we know for a surety what's wrong — "
"We can fix you," Link interrupted, leaning forward and nodding wildly. He took up the Sheikah Slate, eying Phantom Ganon's scan. "We'll follow this. Y-you'll be all right."
Purah and Symin gathered in closer. Looking between Maz Koshia and the Slate Lite, Purah instructed Link and Symin, "Lie him down. Gently." She ran her hand through her hair, sighing, "We've got a lot of work to do."
Link and Symin nodded, easing the monk to his back as painlessly as they could. When he was safely laid down, Symin got to his feet, murmuring, "I'll grab some supplies — be right back."
As he turned, Purah beckoned, "Get the heavy-duty Guardian glue, Symin. We're... gonna need a lot."
Link, anchored to Maz Koshia's side, tried not to let that thought sicken him.
Meanwhile, Phantom Ganon stood off-stage, unmoving, but slowly coming back to himself. Shaking his lingering confusion, he straightened, reorienting his attention on the task at hand — healing the monk. As Symin darted past him, Phantom Ganon's hand shot out, seizing a fistful of his shirt.
Symin promptly went stiff as a board. For a moment, Link tensed, worried he'd have to break them up. But, to his surprise, Phantom Ganon instead offered, "Let me help, Symin." He then cast a glance toward Link, Purah, and Maz Koshia, adding, "I love helping."
Symin gave a wheeze in response, nodding rapidly. Phantom Ganon proceeded to trail behind Symin like he was his shadow as he rushed about the lab for supplies; Symin moved as if death itself were breathing on his neck, gathering everything in less than thirty seconds. They quickly returned to the stage with several scalpels, bundles of gauze, scissors, a bottle of liquid painkiller, and a pot of adhesive with a paintbrush.
Laying down their spread alongside both Slates, Purah and Symin set their sights on Maz Koshia. The monk relaxed, uncovering his wound. Taking up a few scalpels, they were about to commence their work on him, only to stop dead when Phantom Ganon knelt himself beside them.
Link eyed him stiffly. "Phantom...? What are you doing?" he asked through gritted jaw.
"Helping, of course," the spirit said matter-of-factly, taking up a scalpel of his own. "After all we've been through together, it's the least I can do." Turning to the monk, he added, driving the scalpel toward him, "Don't worry — I'm very good with knives."
Maz Koshia's hand caught the spirit's wrist. He grumbled, his lip curling, "I'd rather you stay out of me, thank you very much."
Pausing for but a moment, the spirit gave an innocent shrug, letting the scalpel clatter to the floor. He wrenched his hand out of Maz Kosiha's grip, musing, "Eh, suit yourself. Your body was a hovel, anyway." Standing, he strode over to the wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms. They all stared at him for a moment before he raised a hand, dismissing, "Go ahead, don't mind me. I've done my part. Good luck."
Link released a huff through his nose, shrugging him off. He was growing tired of this. "Whatever — c'mon," he encouraged Purah and Symin. "Let's get him fixed up."
Finally, and without any further interruption from Phantom Ganon, they got to work treating Maz Koshia. Link didn't trust his hands — he watched, all the while handing Purah and Symin tools and checking in with the monk as they worked on his chest cavity. Following their data, they carefully cut him open and glued together the veritable jigsaw puzzle that was his ravaged rib cage, focusing the majority of their work on the segment that had broken off completely.
Though his injuries were nevertheless grotesque — Link had to turn his eyes away a few times — thankfully, the monk had no blood to spill. And apart from the occasional twitch or grunt, Maz Koshia remained impeccably still as they worked on him. The painkiller Purah made him drink certainly helped.
After a few hours of nerve-wracking work, Symin snipped the last of the gauze and secured it into place. "That should do it, I think," he said, looking over the dressing bound around the monk's chest. He wiped his forehead. "The glue should be dry in a few hours."
Maz Koshia smiled at him. "Thank you, Symin." He turned his gaze on Purah, thanking her as well, "And thank you, Director. You've taken very good care of me." The two Sheikah melted a little at that.
Link scooted forward. "How are you feeling?"
The monk rubbed his side, relief sweeping through him at its newfound stability. His breath had calmed, his body no longer paralyzed with pain. Smiling at Link, the monk sighed, "Much better." But his voice was weary, his eyes sunken. He blinked, hard, making a face. "Just… tired, is all. But I'll be even better once I get some sleep."
Inspecting them, he sighed, adding, "The same goes for each of you. We've been up for nearly twenty-four hours, now. We need to rest." His lips pursed as his gaze flicked to the light of the full moon glinting on the window. "We need to be prepared for the Blood Moon," he continued grimly. "No matter what may come to pass."
Everyone stiffened at the reminder — both of the Blood Moon, and of how overworked they were. Had it really been twenty-four hours…? They could certainly feel it. Now that they weren't scrambling, their exhaustion bored down upon them like the weight of an ocean. Their heavy skulls spiked to the erratic rhythm of their hearts; their eyes were wide and red, stinging with every blink. They desperately needed sleep.
"Couldn't agree more," Phantom Ganon chimed in, startling them.
Link turned his head, his eyes hardening when his gaze fell on the spirit. He had since seated himself against the wall, having grown bored. But now that they were finally done with the monk, he had to keep them on track. He had big plans, and not even Maz Koshia could derail them.
Getting to his feet, the spirit brandished his hands, inviting them, "How about we call it a day? Get you all in bed? It's about time." He smirked. "I'll even let you sleep in tomorrow morning."
"How generous…" Link grumbled under his breath.
Bone-tired as he was, Maz Koshia was immediately filled with suspicion. With a grimace, he sat up on his elbows, studying the spirit's face. "And what will you be doing in the meantime?" he asked. "You don't need to sleep."
The spirit crossed his arm, shifting his feet. "I won't be watching you sleep, if that's what you're thinking — what, you think I'm some kinda creep?" There was a brief lull, everyone staring at Phantom Ganon. But before anyone could say anything, he shook his head, droning, "Y'know what? Don't answer that." He scowled at Maz Koshia. "For your information, monk, I've got some preparations to make..."
Link's brows furrowed. "What preparations?"
Phantom Ganon turned on him, his eye sparkling with ecstasy. "Why, for your training, of course! I've got something special in mind." Link flinched when the spirit clapped his hands together like an excited toddler, trilling, "Oh, I can't wait for you to see it — you're gonna love it!"
"Special?" Link echoed. "Like what?"
"No, no, no — no spoilers," the spirit said, raising his pointer fingers. He came forward, gathering to his knees and shoving his face into Link's; Link backed up into the wall. "That's for me to know, and you to find out, my little eager beaver." Cocking his head, the spirit tapped his finger against the tip of Link's nose playfully, crooning, "Sleep tight, now. I'll see you tomorrow."
Link cringed away from his touch, banging his head against the wall. In the heat of the moment, he didn't notice Phantom Ganon take the Sheikah Slate, tucking it behind his back. With that, the spirit stood, turned, and walked through the wall with a giggle, leaving them to their own devices.
Everyone stared after him for a moment, breathless and a tad disturbed. But once he had gone, the group gave a collective sigh, slouching.
Rubbing the back of his head, Link turned toward his companions, whereupon his heart sank. Phantom Ganon hadn't sugarcoated it — they did look like corpses. Frazzled hair, drooping eyes, sagging posture. With a shudder, Link gathered to his feet, his skull swimming slightly. Whether that was from bumping his head or his exhaustion, he didn't know. But he didn't care.
Glancing across the lab to his and Maz Koshia's futons, Link stooped, urging the monk, "C'mon, Maz — let's get you to bed."
But Maz Koshia raised a hand. He shook his head and eased himself to his back, refusing politely, "No, I… I think I'd better stay here. The less I move, the better the glue dries." His brow wrinkled as he requested, "Could I trouble you to bring my futon over?"
Link nodded. "Of course. Anything you need."
As Link turned to retrieve it, Maz Koshia added, stopping him briefly, "Bring yours over, too. I don't want you sleeping alone."
Link stiffened when a scoff resounded in his mind. Clearly, despite his preoccupations, Phantom Ganon was still keeping tabs on him. Interestingly enough, the spirit didn't add any further commentary. Link wasn't sure whether to be relieved or suspicious, but he shook it off. He had more important matters to attend to — like crashing into bed.
As Link wandered to the other side of the lab, Purah and Symin hovered over Maz Koshia, making sure he had everything he might need — painkillers, gauze, water to drink. They gave him perhaps too much, but he was grateful regardless. They even offered to camp out downstairs with them, but the monk refused them, urging them to get some rest in their rooms.
When Link returned with a bounty of pillows and their futons, he laid out their beds on the stage. After Maz Koshia settled down, he then encouraged his company to do the same.
They certainly didn't need telling twice. It was only eight o'clock by that point — not that that mattered, though. Not with the fatigue that was crushing them into the floor. Bidding each other their weary goodnights, Link collapsed onto his futon and Purah and Symin trudged upstairs, switching off the lights as they went.
Link settled on his side, facing Maz Koshia as he reclined on his back. As Link lay there, listening to Purah and Symin's footsteps fade away into the rafters, his stared, emptily, into the darkness, his mind ablaze in his throbbing skull.
His body begged for him to drift off, but he couldn't bring himself to. Though he was relieved to be free of Phantom Ganon for the time being, he couldn't pull the thought of the spirit's excitement from his mind, his vague words, the looming promise of his training. Whatever Phantom Ganon had planned for him for the Blood Moon… it had made him giddy, childlike — two traits that were alarmingly unbecoming of him.
Link had no idea what he was in for, and it was eating him up inside. It made his Malice slither, breathing with anxious magenta light, though he hid it beneath his sheets.
It seemed that Maz Koshia, too, was still stewing over Phantom Ganon's behavior. He pursed his lips as he gazed into the ceiling, rubbing a finger against one of his golden bracelets, his mind surging with speculation. After thinking himself ragged for a time, he dragged his head toward Link, checking on him. In the darkness, the monk could tell that Link was nowhere near asleep, what for the glow of his eyes.
With a pitied smile, Maz Koshia reached out to Link, gently laying a hand on his hair. Link jolted, his head snapping up. The ghostly turquoise glow of the monk's eyes held his own through the darkness, grounding him.
"Get some rest, Link," Maz Koshia cooed, patting his head. "I… have a feeling you're going to need it. He seems to have quite a bit planned for you."
Link stiffened, clenching a sludgy fist. "I know..." His spine rattled at the memory of the spirit's enthusiasm. It was nothing short of unnerving. Link squirmed, muttering, "But… I don't even know if I want to train with him anymore. I don't want anything to do with him after what he did to you." Bringing out his hand, he stared into his Malice, shuddering. "But I have to get rid of this."
Maz Koshia eyed his Malice as well. He sighed through his nose, frowning. He echoed Link's desires, as well as his ambivalence. Link had to tame his Malice somehow — but why, of all people in the world, did his teacher have to be Phantom Ganon? Yet, as much as the thought haunted them, it seemed that the spirit was the key. They hadn't had much luck themselves.
But perhaps they would get lucky again and it would go down overnight? They could only pray for that, but Maz Koshia wasn't counting on it.
"I know," the monk sympathized. "And you will." He then pulled Link's sheet higher over his hand, covering his Malice, adding, "But try not to let it keep you up. Come what may, we can handle it." He laid his hand atop Link's head again. "For now, just rest your head, all right? I'll wake you in the morning."
"Okay," Link murmured. He scooted closer to Maz Koshia, breathing, "Night, Maz."
Maz Koshia smiled. "Goodnight, hero." As they both began to drift off, the monk trailed his fingers through Link's hair; his touch lulled Link's eyes shut.
For better or worse, they slept like the dead — much longer than they should have. Though Maz Koshia had promised to wake Link, the monk, much like the other occupants of the lab, was completely out cold by the time dawn broke. Still in their beds, the final day marched on without them. Nobody so much as stirred until noon, when a gunge in Maz Koshia's throat roused him awake.
The monk's eyelids split open. He had no idea what time it was. Stirring, he swallowed, making a face at the Malice that had clogged up his throat overnight. Gagging on it, he tried to sit himself up, to reach for the nearby glass of water at his bedside. But a twinge of pain in his chest caught his breath, inevitably sending him into a wet coughing fit. He rolled to his side, burying his face in his pillow in vain hopes of not waking Link.
But Link jumped out of his skin at the monk's coughing, his sheets flying up as he rocketed to his hands and knees. His eyes, wide-open and wild, immediately flew to Maz Koshia. "Maz?! A-are you all right?!" he panicked.
There was a slight pause as the monk recuperated, regaining control of himself. He scowled at the splatter of Malice staining his pillow. Slumping to his back, Maz Koshia held his chest, wearing a grimace against his burning lungs and aching ribs.
"I'm fine," he croaked. "Just a tickle in my throat."
Bracing a hand against the stage, he held his side, carefully easing himself upright. Though the glue bonding his ribs together had solidified, a dull pain still throbbed in his chest cavity — something his fit hadn't helped. But, otherwise, no damage had been done, as far as he could tell; he was just a little congested, out of breath.
Brushing it off, he took up the glass of water, quickly downing it, before turning toward Link. With a smile, he changed the subject, asking, "How did you sleep?"
Link sat back on his heels, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. "Fine, I guess," he replied, blinking away sleep. His eyes wandered, trailing to Maz Koshia's bindings, before finding his soiled pillow. A pang of fear stabbed Link's gut at the sight of it. He took in a shaky gasp, meeting Maz Koshia's eyes.
"I'm all right, Link," the monk reassured him, raising a hand.
Part of Link wanted to believe him. But no matter how many times the monk told him that, Link couldn't shake the awful feeling that he wasn't telling him the whole truth. The monk's awful symptoms rang in his mind again.
"But y-your scans…" Link stammered. "They said you have pneumonia."
"It's just a little cough," the monk corrected, laying a hand on Link's shoulder. "That's all. I'm not concerned. You shouldn't be, either." He shook his head. "Never mind me, hero. The Blood Moon will rise tonight — we need to focus on you." Pausing, the monk tossed back Link's sheets, exposing his arms, murmuring, "...On this."
Link's gaze traveled downward. He pitched back, cringing. Malice still smothered his arms like a grisly paint. He quickly discovered with a rush of horror that his sheets were slimy with it, stained with black and magenta streaks. Gasping, he gave a start, his Malice throbbing to the stuttering of his heart. For some reason, he hadn't slept it off this time.
"Ergh...!" Link groaned, clamping his hands against his sludgy forearms, burying his fingers in his own poison. "Why?! Why isn't it coming off?! It did last time…?!"
Maz Koshia thought back to that night, when he had watched Link's Malice retreat into his body of its own accord. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
The monk ground his jaw, his brain surging. "You had a lot less on your mind, then," he sighed. "If my theories are correct, then your Malice responds to your emotional state; I imagine all that's happened isn't helping matters..."
The pair met each others' gazes again. Maz Koshia's heart squeezed at Link's shaken expression. "You're anxious. Scared. I can see it in your eyes. But maybe if…" he continued. "Maybe if we calmed you down…?" As soon as he said it, the monk's brows furrowed, an idea dawning on him. He quickly swiveled, crossing his legs and facing Link. "I want to try something," he proposed. "Maybe it'll help…? Here, come sit with me."
Confused, but desperate, Link obeyed, crossing his legs and seating himself across from Maz Koshia. The monk took in a long, deep breath, focusing his mind and raising a hand. He paused for a moment, flexing his fingers, before cupping his palm over Link's bone mask, covering his eyes. Link stiffened. He had no idea where this was going.
"Now, relax, Link," Maz Koshia murmured. "Close your eyes."
"Okay," Link breathed, doing as he said.
For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. They merely sat in silence. But soon enough, a sudden pressure formed in Link's skull, an invisible force squeezing his brain. He flinched, but it didn't hurt. If anything, it felt as though something were massaging his brain, soothing his tumultuous mind.
Then, as quickly as he had begun, Maz Koshia withdrew his hand. "We're here," he said reverently.
Link opened his eyes, whereupon he gave a little jolt. His eyes widened as he beheld the otherworldly place he suddenly found himself in. They were no longer in the lab, but on a lofty, stone-studded mountain top overlooking a vast expanse of the wild. A carpet of rosy cherry blossom petals blanketed the lush grass and wildflowers they rested on. To their left, a shallow pond lay at the foot of a towering sakura tree, its clouds of pink blossoms rustling in the passing breeze, sweetening the air.
Link's jaw dropped. This wasn't possible. "Maz…?" he gawked.
Smiling at his reaction, Maz Koshia got to his feet, offering Link his hand. Still stunned by the sights around him, Link reached out to take the monk's hand.
But he completely froze. He gaped at his arm. His Malice was nowhere to be found. Not only was his Malice gone, but he had — he had skin. Normal skin. He wasn't semi-transparent anymore, he couldn't see his bones. Heart racing, Link threw up his other arm, marveling at its normalcy. Maz Koshia beamed as Link proceeded to slap his hands against his face, feeling it up and down, his eyes widening at his distinct lack of his bone mask, his horns, his third eye.
Link turned his wild gaze up to Maz Koshia, repeating, "M-Maz?!"
The monk gestured toward the pond. "Have a look, hero," he invited.
Breathless, Link scrambled over to the water, leaning over its surface. The face that looked back at him wrenched his breath from his lungs. A young man stared at him. Dirty-blonde hair framed his face, blank with astonishment, his azure eyes darting along his fair features as if they were starved for sight.
"Is that…?" Link choked.
Another face appeared in the water — one that Link recognized. Maz Koshia smiled, looking fondly upon the young man in the reflection. He laid his hand on Link's shoulder, beaming, "That's you, Link. The real you. Behind the mask."
Link brought his shaking hands up to his face again, caressing his cheeks, tousling his hair. Tears welled in his eyes, his breath hitching as he was seized by a bout of ecstatic laughter. He couldn't control himself, but he didn't even attempt it. A warmth saturated him to his core, soothing the anxiety stewing in his blood. He had never felt this good. This... amazed. At peace.
"I can't believe it…!" Link wheezed. "I'm… I'm so normal!" Blinking, his eyes wandered to the monk's reflection. His brows furrowed. Pulling his gaze from the pond, he turned to Maz Koshia, stammering, "But… what about you? Y-You haven't changed…?"
Maz Koshia smiled sadly, giving a shrug. "It's as I said — I don't remember what I used to look like. But I remember what you look like." He brushed his knuckles against Link's cheek. "Just like this."
Link shuddered at the monk's touch for some reason. Just as quickly as it came on, his elation fizzled, his stomach hollowing out. He cast his gaze around the peaceful area before his eyes fell into his hands.
"...This isn't real, is it?" he breathed.
Maz Koshia winced slightly, frowning. "Not… entirely," he admitted. "This is an illusory realm of the mind, a place of memories," he explained, gesturing around. When Link withered at the reality of it, the monk leaned forward, taking him by the shoulder and inspiriting him, "But don't dismiss it just yet, hero. This runs deeper than you think." He squeezed Link's shoulder. "This — all of this — is inside of you somewhere. It's just… buried. All we have to do is get it out."
Link sniffed, wiping at his eyes, nodding. He knew what he meant. Though crestfallen as he was at the news, joy still bloomed in his chest at the feel of his smooth cheek, his fair skin. A smile tugged at his mouth as he faced his reflection again. That was him.
Bringing his eyes up, Link once again took in the ethereal mountain top, getting to his feet. Maz Koshia rose with him. Link looked up to the monk, wondering, "Where are we, Maz?"
Maz Koshia looked upon their surroundings with an almost sacred reverence. "This is Satori Mountain, Link. One of my favorite places in all of Hyrule." Sighing, he strode through the pond beneath the sakura tree; Link followed after him, the water pleasantly chilling his bare feet.
The monk continued, "Whenever I grew weary of my studies, I would retire here." As they basked in the shade of the tree, a wistful smile curled Maz Koshia's lip. He reached out and traced his fingertips against its trunk, his eyes fogging over with memory. "Actually, this was where the Goddess inspired me to wait for you," he murmured. "Here, beneath this tree."
Link couldn't help but stare at him, stunned. He found his gaze fixed on the monk's weathered skin, his bony frame. He had honestly never thought about what Maz Koshia would have been like when he was young, with flesh and blood — retiring to this place, studying, living. Link had gotten so used to his emaciated appearance, he barely ever considered what his life might have been like before he was mummified.
"...How old were you, Maz?" Link asked quietly. "When she inspired you?"
Maz Koshia smiled, turning his head toward Link. "I was thirty-eight." Link started at that. The monk chuckled. "Such a small number, now..."
The monk suddenly stiffened, his head snapping up. He tossed his head over his shoulder, scouring the mountain top, his brow furrowed. A shadow darkened his once-peaceful expression. "...I was wondering when he would show up," he grumbled.
Link blinked, turning his head. "Who?"
But Maz Koshia didn't want to linger long enough to answer. He took Link by the shoulder, quickly ushering them behind the sakura tree. "Quickly now, — he mustn't see us," he urged. Link, more confused than ever, followed him. When they were safely behind the tree, the monk gathered behind Link, tucking him close. In silence, they watched the pond, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their unwanted guest.
Before long, a figure came stomping up from the mountainside, the amber jewel on his forehead glittering as he tossed his head to and fro. Link pitched back when he recognized the figure's gleaming yellow eyes, his shock of red hair, and his bone mask, crowned with long, wicked horns — it was himself.
Wait — no, that wasn't him. He wasn't that tall, burly. Link reeled with shock when he suddenly realized that he was looking at Phantom Ganon. But the Phantom Ganon that Link knew was mostly nude, apart from a few scraps of Guardian armor clinging to his shadowy body. Now, the spirit was clothed, sporting a leather cuirass, a studded metal spaulder and knee guards, and heavy, steel-toed boots.
Link jumped when the spirit shouted, shredding the tranquil atmosphere, "All right, where are you?! I know this is you, Maz Koshia!" He patrolled the pond, scanning for him. "You think this is funny, eh? Screwing with me?!" He kicked at the petals on the ground. "When I find you… ohh, when I find you…!"
Link shuddered back into Maz Koshia at the sight of the spirit, his hand grazing the smooth skin of his face. Though his bone mask had gone temporarily back to its original owner, he nevertheless felt his skin itching against it, his blood chilling. Link looked so much like Phantom Ganon with that ghastly mask on. It was uncanny.
"Phantom…?" Link gawked.
"Indeed," Maz Koshia mumbled. "As he once was, before his banishment." As they continued to watch the spirit storm about the pond, Link felt Maz Koshia's fingers dig into his shoulder. The monk's eyes tightened. He shook his head. "...But why is he here?" he wondered.
Link blinked, looking back at him. "He's… he's in my head, Maz. Of course he'd be here."
The monk saddened. "I feared as much — but that's not what I meant." He pursed his lips. "Why is he here at all? With you? In the Slate?" He locked gazes with Link, explaining, "You must understand, Link — the place that he was banished to… no one could return from. Someone deliberately pulled him out."
Link shivered at that. "Who? Why?"
Maz Koshia frowned, his mind brewing. "I don't know. But before I pass on, I intend to find out…"
Link froze. The grim notion that someone was pulling the spirit's strings sickened him. But the more he thought about it, the more Phantom Ganon's words returned to him — that they were bound together, that they needed each other. They were inseparable without the demise of the other. It dawned on him that this had all been planned. Whether at the spirit's hand — or someone else's — he had no idea.
But even without straight answers, he knew he would be stuck with the spirit for the foreseeable future. Just the two of them, once Link's training with Maz Koshia was complete. And when the monk was gone… the spirit would have Link all to himself. Just like he wanted.
A pang of horror stung Link's stomach at the thought. Cringing into Maz Koshia's chest, Link looked from Phantom Ganon to the vast expanse of nature spreading around him. He froze when a radical idea struck him.
Link's heart skipped a beat. He jerked his head toward Maz Koshia. "Come with me," he said.
Maz Koshia blinked. "What?"
"Come with me, Maz," Link repeated, his voice shaking. He laid his hand on Maz Koshia's as it rested on his shoulder. "Out there. In Hyrule." He swallowed. "I want to see it with you. I want you to travel with me."
Maz Koshia's eyes sputtered with shock. He leaned back, inspecting Link, his mouth hanging open. "Link... That's… not my place," he breathed. He shook his head. "Hylia's decree was that I live long enough to train you — until you're ready to face Calamity Ganon. That was our agreement."
Link leaned toward him. "But what if I'm not ready yet?" he pressed. "What if I'm only ready — really ready — after taking back all the Divine Beasts?"
Maz Koshia took his chin back at that, his eyes widening even further.
Link's shoulders tensed. "Please, Maz, you can't leave. Not now." He gestured toward Phantom Ganon, still raging below them. "You can't leave me with… with him. I need you." He squeezed the monk's hand, pleading, "Come with me. Please."
A few moments of silence passed as Maz Koshia thought it over. Such a request was unheard of, and he knew it. He stiffened, searching the grass. "E-even if I did… Phantom Ganon wouldn't like that..."
Link's brows furrowed. "I don't care. He'll have to live with it." Maz Koshia brought his gaze back up to him as he continued, "I need you more than I need him. No matter what he says."
A bloom of gratification warmed Maz Koshia's chest at that. But even then, his shoulders sank. "It would be my honor, hero," he began. "But… I need to consult the Goddess first. Accompanying you would be a major deviation."
Link's heart skipped another beat. He wilted, his face falling.
Maz Koshia's hand promptly found Link's cheek. "I'm not saying no," he admonished tenderly. "But… I'm also not saying yes. Yet. I must ask Her first. She guides my paths." He brushed his thumb on Link's cheek, adding, "Just as She does yours."
Though his chest hollowed out at the monk's answer, Link hung his head, nodding. "Okay…"
There was a brief lull, only broken by Phantom Ganon's stomping. Maz Koshia sighted before he straightened, announcing, "I… I think it's about time we leave."
Link's head snapped up, his eyes widening. "S-so soon?"
"I know," the monk empathized, frowning. "I don't want to leave, either." He turned his head toward Phantom Ganon, adding grimly, "But the longer we keep him here with us, the more angry he'll get in reality." He shrugged. "But we can come back here as often as you like."
Though he dreaded having to wear his bone mask again, Link gave in. "All right," he said, getting to his feet.
Maz Koshia followed his suit, a hand still on his shoulder. Before he brought them back, he paused, urging Link with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Oh, and when we get back — play dumb. We don't need him knowing our little... secret."
A smile stole Link's lips. He nodded. Cupping his hand over Link's eyes, the monk whisked them out of his illusory realm and back to reality.
It was instantaneous. Link soon found himself sitting across from Maz Koshia in the lab again, as if they had never moved. With Link's request and Phantom Ganon's presence fresh on their minds, they briefly forgot the reason they had even ventured to Satori Mountain in the first place. But they never got the chance to inspect Link's Malice, as the front doors promptly burst open.
Phantom Ganon marched into the lab — back to normal and lacking his strange armor — his red eye ablaze with mania. He whirled his gaze on Maz Koshia, stomping forward and jabbing something he was carrying at him, screaming, "YOU! What the hell did you do to me?!"
Though they endeavored to maintain their composure, both Link and Maz Koshia blinked at the object that Phantom Ganon thrust at the monk. It was a pair of greasy tongs. Brow furrowing, Maz Koshia mused innocently, "I don't know what you mean…?"
"Oh, don't even go there!" the spirit spat. "You did something, I know it! Made me see things — "
Link chimed in, denying, "What are you talking about? We've been here. We just woke up."
The spirit cocked his head, snarling, "Is that right?"
"Yes!" Link cried.
The spirit looked about to fly into a rage, but something stopped him. It was Link — his face had crunched, his nose stinging against a smell drifting through the air. Maz Koshia soon followed, testing the air with a curl of his lip. The smell was dark and unpleasantly singed, making Maz Koshia eke out a brief cough.
Link looked to Phantom Ganon, wondering, "I-Is something burning?!"
Phantom Ganon froze for a split second before he suddenly jerked his head toward the front door. "Shit!" he hissed, speeding outside.
Link and Maz Koshia exchange a bewildered glance. Without a word to each other, Link came forward, allowing Maz Koshia to grab hold of his shoulders. The monk leaned heavily on him as they rose to their feet and hobbled outside. They quickly ground to a halt, choking on the cloud of black smoke enveloping the porch. Waving it away, they peered through the smog, finding Phantom Ganon reaching his tongs into a smoking wok sitting on the furnace.
He pulled something out of it, inspecting it for a moment, before sighing to himself, "Ahh, saved it!" Looking over it, he added, "A little crispy, but that never killed anybody…"
Link squinted at what he was holding. Through the smoke, he couldn't tell what it was. "Phantom! What are you doing?!" he cried.
The spirit turned his head, a grin on his fangs. "Making you breakfast, of course!"
Link gawked. He couldn't believe his ears. He could only gape as Phantom Ganon squatted, dragging over a shield and a tall glass of milk that sat in the grass at his feet. He gingerly grabbed the glass of milk before plating whatever-he-was-cooking onto the shield with a juicy slap.
Flinging his tongs, he stood, swiveling and hovering over to Link. He shoved the meal into his face. "Here. Eat up," he encouraged, his eye glinting with anticipation. "You need your strength."
Link took his chin back, aghast at what the spirit presented him with. An enormous skewer lay on the shield — wait, not a skewer. It was a sword, speared through thick, crudely-cut slabs of meat and mushroom caps. The mushrooms were ruddy-brown and sweating, the meat salt-crusted, charred. The ensemble still spat in the shield, red juices pooling beneath it.
Link's stomach spontaneously crushed with desperation, his mouth flooding. This… copious skewer of meat — it smelled incredible. But... Phantom Ganon had made it? Though Link's mind spiraled with confusion and suspicion, his stomach nearly climbed up his throat, scrambling to taste it. He almost reached for it, but stopped himself, giving pause. He couldn't comprehend why he so inexplicably needed this.
Swallowing his rampant hunger as best he could, Link stepped back into Maz Koshia, choking out, "W-what is this?!"
"Your breakfast!" Phantom Ganon beamed. "Here." He pushed the meal forward again.
"What did you do to it?!"
"Cooked it."
Link's eyelids fluttered. Squinting at the meat, Maz Koshia added, stealing the words from Link's mouth, "We don't have any meat. Where did you get that?"
Phantom Ganon puffed out his chest, shooting the monk a smug look. "Oh, y'know, I saw that mushroom soup you made yesterday," he began airily. Turning to Link, he added, "You seemed to really like it, so I thought I'd make you something, too," he paused, sneering at Maz Koshia, " — something better — to get you ready for tonight." He pushed the skewer into Link's face again. "The razorshrooms I found down in that forest will do you good. The little doe that scampered by was just a bonus."
Link and Maz Koshia eyed the meat with a newfound shock of horror. "...Doe?!" Link stammered.
"Yes, sir!" Phantom Ganon trilled. "Beauty, that one. Didn't put up much of a fight, though. But I reckon she'll taste amazing."
Link's stomach rolled, his eyes flying between the skewer and the spirit. "Why would you do that?!" he wheezed.
Oblivious to their horror, Phantom Ganon replied, his gaze fixed on Link, "I do it all for you, Master. I live to serve you — you know that." The spirit again pushed his meal into his face, urging, "Here."
Nobody moved for an eternal moment. Link swallowed, his eyes falling onto the spirit's offering. His stomach churned with a bizarre cocktail of disgust and desire. Phantom Ganon's gesture was nothing short of disturbing. And yet… it was thoughtful. Albeit in a rather grotesque way. Clearly, he had put quite a bit of thought and effort into it. But the gesture only made Link's skin crawl — Phantom Ganon… being nice to him.
Nevertheless, the rich, charred aroma curling off of the meat was absolutely intoxicating. Part of Link was possessed with the desire to snatch up the skewer and sink his teeth into the thick, tender meat, to lose himself in the sizzling flesh —
Link gave a violent shudder, his hand flying to his stomach. He tangled his fingers into his undershirt. As famished as he was, the knowledge of Phantom Ganon's… niceties sent a nauseous spike into his gut, wrenching him from his strange lapse in control.
"I-I'm not hungry," Link lied.
Phantom Ganon stiffened, his eye glazing over.
A brief, yet heavy, pause followed before Maz Koshia stepped forward, his hand tightening Link's shoulder. "How about we run a scan of you, Link," the monk stated. It wasn't a suggestion. "Right now." He scowled at Phantom Ganon, snarling, "We find that it works best on an empty stomach."
Link gave a mute nod, backing into the monk.
Phantom Ganon stared at them for half a second. They jumped when the glass in his hand exploded beneath his grip. Glass shards and milk rained onto the grass. With a manic giggle, the spirit launched the shield and the skewer over his shoulder. They soared through air before disappearing over the cliff's edge.
The spirit's chains rattled as he stood before them, shaking. "Y-you're not hungry?! That's fine!" he squawked. "Not like I slaved for two hours to make it for you, or anything!" He threw his hands up, shrugging, "Hahahaha! Silly me! Who needs to eat, anyway?!"
Link and Maz Koshia watched his meltdown with bated breath. But he had no sooner spiraled before he clapped his hands, rubbing his palms together. The spirit prowled toward Link and Maz Koshia, barraging them with rapid-fire questions, "So, what's the plan, then? Scanning, right? Can I help? I love to help. I'm done with my prep for tonight, anyway." He leaned into Link's face, holding the Sheikah Slate aloft, adding, "You're gonna need this, right? Right?!"
Breathless, Link reached for the Slate. His fingers had just grazed the device when Phantom Ganon's hand shot out and clamped around his wrist, giving him a start. The spirit fed his eye on Link's arm — on his Malice. With Phantom Ganon's earlier intrusion, Link and Maz Koshia hadn't taken a moment to see if their visit to Satori Mountain had affected Link's Malice.
But now that they were looking at it… something was different. The viscous poison had thinned and retreated noticeably, becoming less of a carpet and more of a patchwork on Link's skin. His bones were exposed in places; though not completely gone, their time at Satori Mountain had definitely withdrawn Link's Malice somewhat.
Link and Maz Koshia almost erupted into a fit of jubilation at the sight, but Phantom Ganon's subsequent reaction kept them from it — thankfully. Had they showcased their delight, they would have no doubt incurred Phantom Ganon's suspicions.
"What the — ?!" the spirit sputtered, pulling Link from his reveries. Phantom Ganon turned over Link's arm, baffled beyond belief. "What's this?! Y-Your Malice…?! It's gone down?!"
Link snatched his hand out of the spirit's grasp. A smirk teased his lips. "What's wrong?" he sneered. "That a bad thing?"
The spirit stiffened at Link's tone. His jaw twitched. "Of course it is! We can't train you on using your Malice if it's not there." Shrugging, the spirit then leaned into Link's face. "But no matter — I can always tease it out of you." He walked his fingers up Link's chest, toward his throat, purring darkly, "I have my ways…"
Something inside Link writhed at that. He gave a guttural grunt, flinching away from the spirit's touch, the remaining Malice on his arms giving a distinct spasm, flashing with light. Maz Koshia's eyes flew to Link's arms, his lips firming. He had to step in — he couldn't let Phantom Ganon undo all their hard work.
"Is that right?" Maz Koshia interjected, wrenching Link away from Phantom Ganon, stepping between them. The spirit drew his face into Maz Koshia's, but the monk was unmoved. His eyes glittered with cruel intent as he lured him, "Please, spirit, regale me with your methods. I'm dying to know."
Phantom Ganon snickered. "Excited, are we? Well, you of all people should know to exercise patience, monk." He gestured toward the cliffside. "Midnight. The beach. You're welcome to watch. Oh, and bring a notepad — you might learn a thing or two."
"I plan to," Maz Koshia snarled. Backing up a step, he seized Link by the shoulder, still locking eyes with Phantom Ganon. "C'mon, Link," he said, turning. "Let's take a look at you."
Argh, what a great chapter! I had tons and tons of fun with this one. We're building up to something big with the Blood Moon, and I hope I was able to capture some of that growing tension here.
I hope Maz Koshia's injuries weren't too much to stomach. Possession by Phantom Ganon would definitely leave some last damage…
But I especially loved the Satori Mountain scene. Gah, it's one of my favorites I've written. I've enjoyed delving into Maz Koshia's back story, getting to know him. The relationship he has with Link makes me feel all sorts of warm fuzzies, if you couldn't tell. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
But what of their progress with Link's Malice? And the Blood Moon? We'll just have to find out…!
Anyway, a few items of business before I leave you — are you comfortable with the cursing in this story? I tend not to write too much of it, as I don't like gratuitous swearing, but I think it was appropriate in a few places. With Phantom Ganon especially. I imagine he'd have a bit of a mouth. Let me know if you find the cursing unsuitable and I'll make some tweaks.
Also, how are you liking chapter lengths? Should I shorten them in the future? Next chapter won't be quite as long as this one (don't want to keep you waiting too much longer) but let me know what you think.
P.S. I'm having tons of fun playing Age of Calamity. It's seriously one of the most fun romps I've had in a game for a while. It's been as inspiring for me as it has been thrilling. Keep an eye out for that inspiration… I might include something or other from it in this story… ;)
Anyway, thank you SO MUCH for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know your thoughts. I'd love to connect with you.
I'll see you next chapter…