Chapter 9
The next day blessed Castle Town with gentle rainfall, a boon after a week of stifling summer heat. Meadows and forests that surrounded the capital shrouded themselves in cool mists while birds took a merited rest in the treetops, their heads tucked under their wings. The resulting peace that spread across the land made that bleak afternoon seem like a moment frozen in time, and only the steadily dropping rain hinted at the minutes ticking by.
Link stood by the closed weaver's quarters opposite the barracks, his blistered hands stretched into the spatter of water spraying from a hole in the eaves gutter overhead. Raindrops drummed onto the pommel of Rusl's sword on his back, creating a ring so faint and subtle that Link only heard it when he turned his head. From the mental confines of his canine twin came the Wolf's steady snoring. Both sounds reflected the calm that had settled in his soul at the welcome change of weather.
For the first time in what seemed like weeks, he felt like he could breathe easy again. He suspected it to be the vacancy of the streets – the townsfolk having sought shelter from the downpour within their homes – but his ease of mind seemed to reach deeper than that. Ashei had greeted him that morning with a firm handshake and a rare smile. Millie had given him a light hug, and Shad had taken him aside to slip him his own copy of Legends of Hyrule to read on the journey into the desert. Exiting the washroom, he had been assailed by Peet the streetboy who insisted on escorting Link all the way to the barracks while gushing over Sir Garril's deserved butt-kicking and subsequent dispatch to Eldin.
But it took a pat on the cheek and a knowing wink from Telma to realize what he had been too sullen to see for the entirety of the week; they had been treating him with kindness from the very beginning. Small gestures of care had been directed at him from all sides – Leena giving him an extra helping of stew with a girly wink, Sir Mezer holding out a tiny wooden whistle he had made for Link in an afternoon, or Bat showing him the shoe Rusl had found in South Hyrule Field, putting once more into focus why Link had decided to join the Resistance. They had shown him their affection in the only way he allowed it; by small gestures they hoped would make him smile.
He had been too busy feeling miserable to care. So as the hole in his stomach – burnt in by distrust and doubt – was mended thanks to Auru's encouraging words the prior evening, he felt a new mental energy flow through him, energy to mingle with the group's members, share courtesies and interests, allow their mellow banter to widen his smiles, and spend the time he had previously wasted with gloominess on getting to know them a little more.
His free day given by Auru was the perfect opportunity to start. After waking up feeling physically sore but mentally energized, he sat with Shad in his minuscule study beneath the tavern discussing stories and tales while pouring sand onto the wet ink on letters that the scholar pumped out with astonishing speed. He finally gave in to trying a sip of Millie's creamed café, chuckling with the elderly smith and her two Goron co-workers as they watched Berner traipse through the courtyard to stretch his legs. The late morning was spent cooking and baking with Agus in the kitchen, and Link found a whole new level of affiliation in a person who spoke even less than he did. Gestures and nods were the only means of communication needed between them, and the needlessness of having to translate thoughts into words settled Link's mind like no meaningful conversation could.
At first his resolution to befriend the group members seemed to come as a natural response to feeling more positive – and actively seeking for reasons to smile. However, Link soon found the underlying cause for it, one that had formerly been hampered by the raging spirit of the Wolf. One he had not even paused to earnestly consider until now, as the day of departure drew near.
He would be travelling not into an otherworldly temple, but to another world entirely. He would be facing Zant again, the demon who had orchestrated Hyrule's Moblin invasion, machinated the systematic elimination of all sovereigns of the main races, defied the light spirits and the goddesses to establish his power and his god, wrenched Hyrule's and Faron's children from their parents' arms.
The monster that had nearly murdered his companion.
Like the Fused Shadows before, Zant was another piece of the puzzle needed to bring peace back to Hyrule. Link knew there was no other way; he had to be the one to take him down.
However, there was always a chance he would not make it back at all. If he failed once again to summon up the necessary skill, strength, speed, to match Zant and eventually defeat him, this next week could very well be his last. Only a couple days to spend with the people he belonged to now. Only a few last opportunities to seek redemption from his foster father.
He caught his mind trying to slink back into pessimism, and focused his mental energy on the scolding he would likely get from Midna if she could read his thoughts. By the absence of the Master Sword's gentle humming, he knew she was not around, possibly at the College to make one last sweep of the history section at the library. He was grateful for her devotion to search for as much knowledge as she could about their destination, but he had grown to miss her daily presence. In a group where trust and openness were a condition of acceptance, having a secret companion in his shadow was both unnerving and deeply gratifying. He wondered what Auru would have made of her.
A girl carrying a basket hurried by and flashed him a timid smile. He saw a tuft of dyed wool slip from the basket, and watched it sink to the oily cobblestone where it became another wet glob of filth in the mud. Instead of lingering on that sad sight, he forced himself to look up into the grey sky and allow the rain to trickle onto his face. He felt better after a moment.
A figure came through the gate by the training grounds and headed in his direction. Swallowing his nervousness, Link pulled on his gloves to hide the red blisters and walked out into the street. He had not pulled up his hood despite the rain soaking into his hair, and the figure recognized him instantly.
"Link, there you are!"
Rusl hurried towards him and wrapped his arms around his adoptive son, though he pulled back after a few seconds.
"How long have you been standing here? You're all wet! Were you out here all night?''
Link gave a start at the smith's words and shook his head. It had not occurred to him that Rusl would still believe him to be missing. As instructor, he usually left the tavern at dawn to prepare the training grounds for the first batch of recruits. Link had still been soundly asleep, knackered after half a night spent under the Wolf's influence.
''I was at the tavern. Auru gave me the day off. I wanted to wait until you got off duty, to… apologize for everything I said to you.''
''Come now,'' Rusl answered, giving him a gentle squeeze. ''A blacksmith can take a few hits. No harm done. But why did you leave so suddenly after… Well, I'm not sure what exactly happened yesterday. Where in Farore's name did you learn all that? I mean, you were good before, but this… When did you become so limber?''
Link contented himself with giving the same reply as to Auru; in truth, he had no idea. The fight with Garril had been nothing but a blur of motion and surety. Each step, each swing of his sword had felt as if an invisible hand was guiding him. Time had slowed to make sure he could correct minor mistakes, fall in with the template his mind projected into the room. And over it all, the multitude of voices from the skeleton in the woods had goaded him on, revealing secrets he had once known, centuries ago, and forgotten over the span of lifetimes.
Link pulled up his hood while touching the leather pouch at his waist – and the angular bulge of Zant's arrowhead concealed within. "I think I'm ready to talk about what happened at Kakariko, if you still want to.''
The smile Rusl gave him was subdued yet relieved. "Nothing I'd rather do. I know a good spot that's dry and private. Let's get you out of the rain."
The smith led Link through the streets, for once uncharacteristically empty and lifeless until all Link could hear was the splashing of their steps in the muddy puddles of the weaver's quarter. Cooper Corner joined Butcher's Row, vacant today but for a couple of vendors huddled into their rain coats. Their destination was Fountain Square that Rusl traversed before stopping at the wrought-iron gate leading to the Temple of Time.
''I'd wanted to save it for last, but I think now's a good time to show you Castle Town's most sacred place of worship. And it's just after midday mass, so we should be mostly on our own.''
The temple's dirty outside – rendered sooty grey in the rain – left Link sceptical of the monument's inside grandeur Rusl had so lavishly praised before, but he was proven wrong after passing the heavy oak doors into the sombre serenity of the temple's inner sanctum.
They emerged on a kind of balcony with a majestic set of stairs leading down to the main floor. The stone railing that spanned the length of the gallery was heavy and wide, a rectangular handrail supported by vase-shaped balusters each carved with lozenges and circles. The floor and walls were marble, a material Link had never seen before. Grey lines crossed the polished white tiles like diluted streaks of paint, causing him to stop in his tracks just to watch their swirling course change and shift beneath his feet.
Then a sound arose from the temple's chancel. At first Link mistook it for the wind howling through the building's wooden rafters high above his head. It rang clearly across the room, without fluctuation or hitch. When it changed to the next lower fifth, the temple's echo held the first note like a memory, briefly giving the illusion of two notes playing at the same time.
It was a man who had created the sound, his voice crystalline and pure. With eyes closed he stood by the side of the main hall, singing to a small statue of Hylia set upon an altar and surrounded by flowers and candles.
''Come, let's sit down,'' Rusl whispered, and Link followed the smith down the stairs, trying his best to muffle his footsteps so as not to disturb the singing monk.
The single nave held rows upon rows of wooden benches that Rusl navigated until he chose a seat near a marble column to the right of the room. His solemn face was lit by the milky light shining through the colossal windows that spanned the length of the walls. Link saw wrought-iron grates behind their spotless glass, each a mass of perfectly symmetrical swirls and curves.
Rusl did not speak until the monk had finished his song, and Link found himself answering his father's muttered words in an even softer whisper that barely disturbed the temple's peaceful stillness. They talked in this manner until the clouds darkened outside and a pair of monks passed beneath the windows to light the wall-mounted torches. They talked until the temple's single bell rang from its square tower, calling the populace to service. They sat in silence while the priest held his sermon, reading the word of Hylia from a large, leatherbound book. And as the entirety of the room began to sing, Link felt their words resonate within himself until his left hand prickled with warmth.
Oh youth,
guided by the grace of the goddess,
unite earth and sky,
and bring light to the land.
The rain had ceased and allowed the crickets to resume their chirping. When they exited the temple with the crowd, Link turned towards Rusl and hugged him. As he did so, the leather pouch pressed against Rusl's leg. He leaned backwards ever so slightly to ease off on the touch, giving Rusl no reason to ask about it.
Today Link's courage had sufficed for the first step in reaching redemption; he had found hope that Colin would forgive him; resolution to eventually return to Kakariko and try to reform their brotherly bond; humility to ask for Keme's forgiveness.
Today, the crystal remained in its pouch, untouched, unmentioned. One day, surely, he would be ready to reveal its existence and purpose to Rusl. One day, he would hold out the Master Sword to his foster father, the sacred weapon glistening in unison with the mark that branded him a hero.
But today was not that day.
0
Link was woken by Telma early the next morning. There were no windows in his sleeping quarters to show him the time of day, but as he shuffled out the washroom door for a quick face rinse in the courtyard well, he saw it was not even dawn.
"Auru wants to get out of the city before daylight," Telma explained, herself puffy-eyed and somnolent as she shared breakfast with him in the meeting hall. The mug of café she held on to sent its nauseating smell into the air. Ashei came in a moment later with a bowl of porridge, looking uncharacteristically frazzled and unkempt. They were the only ones up.
''That overachieving drudge could have said something, I would've gone to bed earlier,'' she grumbled. ''Or just spent some of last night packing instead of gambling. Where's our gear anyway? Auru said something about desert equipment.''
Telma just shrugged, but as they filed out of the tavern half an hour later, each toting a hastily packed bag, they discovered their two saddled horses in the courtyard being watered by Peet at the well. Epona nickered at Link in greeting and sauntered over, burying her snout in his waiting hands. Her saddle had been outfitted with a folded tarp, a bedroll, and two large bulging saddlebags.
''Don't look so sour, Captain,'' came Auru's voice from the darkness. He was leading his own mount, a calm destrier with a caramel coat, to stand next to his black powder crates by the smithy's double doors. ''It's into the warm, sunny west we are heading, after all. And a tan will do wonders for those bags under your eyes.''
''And a good morning to you too, Sir,'' Ashei said in mock deference. ''Thank you kindly for neglecting to inform me of our premature takeoff.''
''Ah, that's a relief,'' Auru grinned. ''You're very welcome! I had feared you to be somewhat peeved about it. Wonderful. Peet, would you mind helping the Captain with her belongings?''
''And go near that deranged nag again? Fat chance!''
Auru quickly intervened as Ashei's jaw hit the ground, her hand shooting to the pommel of her sword.
''He means your horse, Captain. We've had a bit of trouble getting him ready this morning. He's quite spirited.''
The nag in question was a nervous black stallion twitching at everything that moved. Its saddle was hanging somewhat askew on its slender back, the strap halfway undone.
"Step aside, I'll take care of my nag," Ashei snapped and ran a gentle hand over the horse's neck. "Did you kick him nice and hard? Good boy."
Turning away to leave the bickering pair to their arguing, Auru approached Link. ''A mighty fine beast you have there,'' he said. ''You never told me how you came to own a Hylian Draught Horse.''
Link had already been given approving comments about Epona from the other Agency members; thus he had learned that Epona's breed was a cross between an Eldinian Jouster and a Sprinter horse from Lanayru. Perfectly balanced in speed and strength, it was supposedly a very sought-after breed for knights. Certainly not a horse a humble goat herd from Ordon would ride.
''I found her in the woods as a filly,'' he answered, filling out the short tale with some vague details; in truth, he did not know much about Epona's origins himself. Very much like him, she had no biological parents anyone knew about, and their fate seemed to have been linked by destiny.
''She'll do just fine across the desert,'' Auru answered. ''I apologize for the short notice, but the latest report I received from Nayrunis spoke of yet another bulblin raid near the mountain pass. I did not want to wait any longer. How is your wound doing?''
Link could hardly feel it any more; Doctor Lysh clearly knew his trade. ''I'm feeling great. You shouldn't have delayed on my account.''
The leader slapped a hand onto the crate stack by the smithy, his impish smirk widening. ''Couldn't leave without my explosives, could I? They're the key to brokering an alliance with the Gerudo. We'll depart as soon as I've finished packing them, so I'd suggest you go wake your father and say goodbye."
But Link needed only turn around to see the blacksmith jog out of the washroom, a lantern in his hand. The sight of his foster father's snug travelling clothes sent a shiver of fright down Link's spine. Had he decided to join them after all? Slipping away from Auru to head for the Mirror would be difficult enough, and that task might just have become impossible with Rusl's overbearing presence added to their group.
He was halfway into coming up with a list of arguments to convince both Auru and Rusl of the smith's need to stay behind, when Rusl's night stubble pressed against Link's cheek as he hugged him tightly.
"I don't think I have to tell you again to be careful," he said, holding Link at arm's length. "So instead I'll say something else: have fun. Do what you believe is right. I'm letting you go."
Link raised his eyebrows, lost for words, but whatever answer he could have given was muffled by another bone-crushing hug from his foster father.
Scratching his neck, Rusl stepped back. "Now, if it's all right with you, I'll go back inside before I change my mind and commit an act of insubordination." To Auru, who was standing behind Link observing the farewells, he said: "You know what I'll do to you if he gets hurt."
"An act of insubordination far worse than the first, and it would be justified," Auru replied. "I'll take good care of him, Rusl. I promise."
And just like that, Link's worries walked back inside with a wave of their lantern, leaving him to face the red rim of dawn free and unshackled.
Quickly Auru had filled his two large saddlebags with explosives, leaving the rest of the black powder within the crates, and secured them so they wouldn't jostle during a full gallop. Ashei had already mounted her horse, now as docile as a lamb with his mistress on board, and was busy tying back her short hair with her barrette. Epona gave Link an impatient clout, turning her saddled back to him expectantly, and scraped the pavement with her brand-new horseshoes in anticipation. The thrill of the coming journey made Link's heart pump with excitement. He stooped to touch the shadow behind his boot, a secret sign that prompted Midna to squeeze his finger for just a second, assuring him of her wellbeing.
''Onward then," Auru said and mounted his destrier. ''May Hylia bear us on our way."
Hooves rattling, the three horses hurried through the streets and across the lowered drawbridge of Castle Town's western gate.
0
Cloudless summer days accompanied the trio on their dash across the land. Speed was at the forefront of Auru's mind; managing their horses' endurance therefore became vital. With a careful juggling act of speed bursts and timed breaks, the miles melted away.
They reached Nayrunis by nightfall, and during an early supply run the next day Link learned – rather pitilessly – that Sir Nahamani did not appreciate loose ends. Epona was still seen as stolen property by the township cavalry, a bureaucratic issue the Resistance leader resolved first by luring Link to the barracks in question, feigning nonchalance, then casually dropping the coin that pilloried Link as an unearthed criminal. With shackles still being locked into place around Link's wrists, Auru then magically drew from his sleeve a deed of ownership he claimed Link had possessed ever since finding the Hylian Draught Horse as a filly in the woods.
''Now wait a minute,'' the captain of the fort grunted and snatched the parchment from Auru's hand. ''We found the beast wandering the plateau trailing two dead Moblins behind it. According to Hyrulean law, the finder of a wandering animal may lay claim to it if the owner does not make themselves known in the month following the find. That delinquent broke into our stables long after that.''
''You got that right, Sir,'' Auru answered. ''This is the law that allowed Master Link to keep the horse in the first place. However that same law also says that, by the end of said month, the appointed bailiff of the region must officially record the ownership. Eight-year-old Master Link – with the help of his foster father whose signature you shall find at the bottom there – travelled for three days to reach Palaguard where the appointed bailiff produced the writ you're holding. So unless you have procured your own deed of ownership upon your acquisition of this Hylian Draught Horse, Link had every right to reacquire his lost property from you. Well?''
Auru left the city an hour later still laughing at his own whimsy – and Link rather faint-hearted for the remainder of the day. There had been no cause for worry, according to the exhilarated leader, who claimed to have visited Nayrunis' bailiff in advance to leave some messages and casually inquiring about a potential deed of ownership tying a sorrel Hylian Draught Horse to the township cavalry. Link felt deep gratitude upon hearing this, and not a small amount of guilt for having been the source of yet more trouble to the Agency leader.
''Whatever results our endeavour in the Gerudo Desert will yield, Nayrunis is the closest city to the mountain pass,'' Auru later explained back at their camp outside the city. ''Once that is closed, the Moblins will be shut off from their supply line and most likely turn to even more raiding. The bailiff was on my list of people I needed to inform of that potential threat. So don't feel like you've inconvenienced me. It actually rather made my morning, our little standoff at the captain's office.''
''Sir, I never even filled out such a form,'' Link answered, indicating the deed of ownership Auru had handed to him for safekeeping. He already had an angry lecture ready for when he saw Rusl again; any passing merchant could have snatched Epona away from him just because his omniscient foster father had failed to check his outdated lawbook about bureaucratic procedures.
''Shad and Garril did, on my orders,'' Auru replied. ''Never underestimate the power of signatures, my boy. Even forged ones sprayed with bleach to make them look eight years older. Just promise me to bridle your spontaneous acts of law infringement in the future, or I might prioritize my other errands before convincing them to remove your shackles.''
With Ashei snickering in the background, Link went back to work dismantling the tents, bashfully silent.
The vast shoreline of Lake Hylia accompanied them on their way to the western mountain range. Like a yellow cape flowing behind them, a steady cloud of dust followed their horses as the land gradually turned arid and rocky. Humidity dispersed and left the summer-sharpened air parched, the hot wind slicing across their faces like a fire-trailing whip. Whatever sweat their pores produced was sucked from their skin, leaving it checkered with a crust of dust and salt. Only their desert gear of breezy white linen provided some relief.
With the blue waters of Lake Hylia flattening the horizon behind them, they reached the narrow canyon dipped into shadows by overhanging ochre cliffs.
"Gather round," Auru said, dismounting by the canyon wall. It was early in the morning, so early that the sun had just peeked over the lake's smooth surface. In the distance, the smoke from their camp's fire was still visible as a thin line ascending into the dark blue, cloudless sky.
"We have about another day's travel until we reach Ashinon. The town of Ayloch Bazaar is at a straight shot west of here, however I am almost certain it is overrun. That means we have half an army's worth of monsters between us and our destination, and they'll be patrolling the perimeter.''
''Can't we go south, around them?'' Ashei asked.
''That would lead us through the rock islands, and those are crawling with Lizalfos. Our horses won't be fast enough to outrun them. I was thinking about going north instead. Into Molduga territory.''
Ashei's expression turned sombre, and she remained quiet.
"Molduga?" Link asked.
"They are the apex of all desert monsters,'' Auru said. ''Think of them as giant, thorny sand whales. They can breach sand like a fish breaches water. If you have no firm ground to stand on, they'll chase you down then come up beneath you and swallow you before you have a chance to bid the sun goodnight. Even Moblins steer clear of them.''
''You don't mess around with Moldugas,'' Ashei snorted. ''I'm for tackling the bulblins.''
''Bulblins would be easier to outrun than Lizalfos, for sure, but they might follow us all the way to Ashinon. I'm sure the Gerudo king wouldn't be pleased about that.''
Link thought back to his encounters with the Fused Shadows' monsters; Diababa in its pool of acid water, Cursed Darbus flinging his glowing chains at him, the Eel's massive bulk slithering through the water. Compared to them, a thorny sand whale sounded more or less tame.
''If a Molduga were to spot us, could we outrun it?'' he asked Auru.
''If we stay on firmer ground, then yes. The road leading to Hasana has a well halfway through at which we can resupply. Then its just a straight shot south-west to Ashinon. If we're lucky and tread carefully, we won't even encounter a Molduga. But most importantly, it is easier to keep track of one giant monster ploughing through the sand than five hundred mounted bulblins. I always prefer it when the odds are even. That sound agreeable to you, Captain?''
Ashei waved her hand about. ''I wouldn't call six tons of sand whale to three lightweights like us even, but if we get into a chase it'll be you or the young sport, because my horse is the fastest. And those who get left behind will be eaten first. Just keep that in mind.''
She spun around and returned to her horse, flinging herself into the saddle. Her matted black hair fell around her cheeks as she patted the stallion's neck before sending him into a quick trot down the canyon.
''She's never one to beat about the bush, much like her father used to be,'' Auru chuckled. ''Though I think it's the heat that's affecting her mood, and not our imminent death as sand whale appetizer. You better stay close to me until we've crossed the canyon. This is dangerous territory. See those prints?''
There were tracks in the sand, and plenty of them. Link recognized the Moblin ones; deep child-like prints belonging to bokoblins and similar, more oblong ones showing hundreds of bulblins passing through. Hoof gouges made by their overgrown boar mounts. But Auru was pointing at a line of tracks to the side of the passage, the owner sporting three abnormally long, clawed toes. He had seen Berner leave similar prints in the muddy city streets.
''Are those from Dodongos?'' he asked.
''A distant cousin, the Lizalfos. Ever seen one?''
Link shook his head.
''Odds are we might soon enough, although they tend to be at their most active at night. Lizalfos look like overgrown lizards with horns, and their skin can change its colour to blend with the environment. This is a common spot for them to congregate and prey on travellers like us. I've been keeping my eye on the crags above, but they don't seem to fancy a long drop just to land on our heads.''
''If they can camouflage, how do we spot them?"
''They're not Gorons who can change the very composition of their skin to look like sand or rock. You'll notice a Lizalfos if you look directly at it. And our horses will sense their presence long before we do. Stay alert."
Auru once more took the lead after they caught up with Ashei, and together they continued through the echoing gorge. Link noticed how the leader had stretched out his hand to hover near Epona's reins; that sight unsettled him more than the geographical trap around them did. If Lizalfos were dangerous enough to make a hardened battle master this nervous, Link dared not think about what a whole group of them would do against the three of them.
A sudden shift in colour appeared in the distance, and Auru's hand instantly closed around Epona's reins, causing her to twitch nervously. Behind them, Ashei's black stallion fidgeted and snorted.
"What is it, Sir?" she called. "Are we being attacked?"
"No, this looks like the battle was already fought. And lost. Be careful, there might still be some around."
They dismounted, weapons drawn, and approached the bloody mess heaped close to the canyon wall. Five Human corpses lay piled on top of each other by the side of the road, rocking morbidly as vultures plodded across them to pick at their sand-covered flesh. Three men and two women; blessedly, no child. Link turned away, tears stinging in his eyes, and caught sight of another cadaver that Ashei was approaching cautiously. A Lizalfos, its massive claws and serrated teeth glistened with blood in the sharp beams of sunlight that filtered in from above. It was even larger than Link had anticipated; standing before one, it would easily be half his size taller than him.
''Curse those wretched lizards,'' Ashei mumbled, kicking away from it. ''These people were trying to get out.''
''Now we know why no Gerudo or desert people sought refuge in Nayrunis,'' Auru answered, his face lined with sadness. ''The monsters have been keeping them bottled in, either as hostages, or to prevent them from bringing Nayrunis' garrison back with them.''
Link quickly turned away as he felt Auru's eyes on him. The leader's hand settled on Link's shoulder. ''You all right, son? I should have warned you about this possibility.''
Once I find them, I'll tear them apart limb by limb! the Wolf screamed.
''I'm fine, Sir. It only makes me want to destroy them all the more.''
''Surely, but hatred makes you blind, and you need to see the path ahead clearly,'' Auru answered kindly. ''Turn your anger into willpower and your hatred into courage. They'll keep you going much longer than if you give in to hostility. And you won't regret your actions, for you'll know you've done the right thing.''
Link looked up to meet Auru's eyes, a single tear diluting the dust on his face that he hastily wiped off. ''Wouldn't the right thing be to track down their killers and bring them to justice?'' he asked, forcing himself to look at the corpses.
''Prayer that their souls reach the Sacred Realm safely, that is all we can do for these poor people now,'' Auru said. ''Remember the bigger picture, Link. We're here on a specific mission for which we are prepared. If we succeed in convincing the Gerudo to help, they will form a militia that protects this canyon and escorts people like them to reach Hyrule. But for this to happen, we have to deliver our negotiator, the esteemed Captain, safely to Ashinon.''
''Revenge might taste sweet, boy, but it leaves you starved for more,'' Ashei joined in, approaching the pair. Her countenance had softened with solemnity that warmed her dark brown eyes. ''The Lizalfos who did this will likely be waiting for us at the mouth of the canyon. Let's not give them the satisfaction of a second killing spree. Listen to your mind instead of your heart. It'll keep you alive longer.''
Their palms tapping on Link's shoulders were meant as a gesture of camaraderie, but Link felt as if being jostled awake. The Wolf's angry growls, demanding that the fallen civilians be avenged, grew quieter, less significant. His own mind replayed Auru's words instead, focusing his attention on them entirely. Anger into willpower, hatred into courage. The path ahead seemed clearer, less daunting, as he mounted Epona and followed the leader through the passage. Wanting to help, he scanned the zigzagging ridge above their heads, then noticed Ashei doing the same while Auru's eyes were pinned forward.
Listen to you mind instead of your heart. Think logically.
Was their rear covered? He turned his head to glance back the way they had come, where the remains of the dead travellers could still be seen mingled among stones and sand. He forced himself to look back even further, as far as the canyon allowed; waiting for the heads of their reptile enemies to appear over the path's crest. Epona felt his shift in posture but kept her pace with the other horses, staying in line, knowing his intention through instinctual understanding.
It'll keep us alive longer.
0
As the desert expanse was finally revealed an hour later, Link heard two distinctive sighs of relief next to him. His eyes struggled to take in the vast scenery as they darted from side to side, searching for their Lizalfos ambush. But the ochre wall they emerged from was deserted.
''By Din's fire…''
He turned to look forward, his own gasp of wonder joining Ashei's muttered oath.
Never before had he seen a stretch of land this vast, this dry, this… barren. The ground was nothing but a sea of sediments teeming with rocky islands, not a single strand of grass to be found. Only the occasional olive-coloured bush gave the predominantly orange landscape a splash of colour. Heaps of sandstone protruding from the dust rose to create monuments so abstract a divine hand might have shaped them; bridges looming over winding stairs, platforms carved and hollowed by the wind, heat and rain having sculpted the very effigy of the goddesses into the mountainsides.
He felt utterly insignificant in the face of the sheer artistry that a couple millennia of raging elements had conceived here.
The horizon, however, was broken by a mound that looked too regular to be another sandstone island.
''Overrun, just as I thought,'' Auru said. As Link turned towards him, he saw the leader had donned a beaked mask with two protruding lenses acting as eyes. Auru was leaning forward, fiddling with the lenses. A mechanical whirring could be heard from the headgear.
''That's Ayloch Bazaar, isn't it?'' Ashei asked.
''Yes, and it's teeming with bulblins. More than I can count at this distance. We'll keep the town at the horizon, and they'll think we're just another three mounted bulblins on our way to the stronghold.''
He stowed his hawk's mask back into his pack. ''Let's not linger, Captain,'' he said, urging his horse into a trot down a mild slope, turning north. ''You'll have plenty of opportunity to admire the scenery on the way.''
''A fast-moving mound of sand whale does not count among my ideas of an admirable scenery, Sir Nahamani,'' she responded. Yet she followed suit, waving at Link who fell in line behind her. They stayed close to the mountain ridge that acted as a natural cover, Link letting his gaze sweep left over the seemingly infinite desert expanse.
The sun had reached its zenith when they stopped at a large sandstone mound to refill their waterskins in the little underground well. Ashei studied her map and placed them at twenty miles from Ashinon while Auru stood in the shadow of the overhanging rock, looking through his hawk's eyes at the northern dunes.
''What does that mask do, Sir?'' Link asked, and the leader unclasped it and held it out to Link with a smile.
''It's a Hawkeye. It lets you see distances as if they're close by.''
He bent over to help Link strap the feathered contraption to his head. ''Gently turn on the lenses until the image becomes sharp, then find that spire over there. If you look closely, you'll see a sand dune pass under it at regular intervals.''
Link searched the landscape until the tower-like rock came into view. At its foot, a bony spine streaked with red membrane made a brief appearance before sinking back into the sand.
''Will it come over here?'' he asked, removing the mask and handing it back.
''Not if we stay on the path. The sand is packed here from centuries of caravans passing through. Moldugas can only swim in deep, grainy sand. Nonetheless, we should keep an eye on the dune fields. Moldugas are excellent jumpers.''
Link accepted a piece of dried meat from Ashei's pack along with his refilled waterskin, and while his two companions sat in the mound's shade talking quietly, Link slunk around the rock until he was out of sight. Bending down, he touched the shadow at his feet.
The sight of Midna's chapped lips and hungry eyes caused him to grimace with guilt; slipping away from two vigilant warriors was harder than he had anticipated, and his imp companion had had to suffer through a whole morning without food or water.
''Drink first,'' he whispered, helping her in steadying the large waterskin while she gulped down its content. He gave her the whole jerky piece despite his churning stomach, brushing aside her half-hearted protests.
''Ashei said it's another twenty miles to Ashinon,'' he muttered while she worked her teeth around the stringy meat. ''Will you be all right till then?''
''I'll make it,'' she answered. ''This air is… awful. How do you stand being out here like this?''
Link positioned himself until his shadow shielded her from the sun's harsh glare. ''I'm holding on to the thought that it'll be cooler at night. But I'm glad you insisted I come along with Auru instead of going alone. Even he had trouble finding this well, and he's been here many times. This place is barbaric. I'd take the Goron Mines anytime over this.''
Footsteps cut their hushed conversation short and forced Midna back into the shadows where, to Link's relief, she could not feel the intense desert heat. They mounted their watered horses for the last stretch of the journey, Auru once more in the lead, Ashei monitoring the sporadically resurging Molduga spines in the dune fields, and Link keeping an eye on the small dot that was the occupied town of Ayloch Bazaar. They weaved through nests of domes and mounds, each a unique monument of eroded sandstone, keeping themselves in the open just enough to see what lay ahead.
And what lay ahead was a city made entirely of clay.
The first thing Link discerned upon spotting Ashinon was its monstrous, soaring wall. And it took another twenty minutes of strong gallop to come close enough for the glimmering air to reveal structures behind it. The city was built on a shallow hill, its centre marked by a large, natural monolith of charcoal-coloured basalt. Palm trees lined the outskirts and followed small channels of water like posts. Only few flat-roofed buildings reached higher than the city ramparts, and the hill's peak was marked by an imposing, smooth-walled palace hugging the basalt monolith.
''What in the name of Nayru…?'' Auru muttered and ordered his followers to stop. Ashei came up next to him, eyeing the leader with confusion.
''Should they be clustering outside the walls like this?'' she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
Link took in the sight of the extensive encampment that had congregated around the city walls. Thousands of colourful tents sat between firepits and carts, their insides glowing weakly with filtered lamplight as the sun disappeared behind Ashinon's bulk. A steady buzz of conversation and clamour rose from the camp – it was more like a small city in its own right – complemented by the bleating of goats and the barking of dogs. He saw livestock kept within fences, horses tied to pickets near a small oasis. And a good distance away, in the shade of a knobbly desert tree, a large pit blackened with charcoal and soot.
''I think we've found the survivors of Ayloch Bazaar,'' Auru grunted, his wrinkled face twitching with anger. ''And those wretched Gerudo won't let them into their city.''
0
General Alvise Farrow looked up from the crumpled piece of paper in his hands and out the fluttering tent flap at the rain-darkened mountains. His tent poles creaked as the wind pressed down on them, but he knew good old Hylian oak would hold. There were no oaks in Dalagra, though, only pines. Long, straight, arrow-shaped pines.
''What does it say?'' the young man behind him asked between bites. He was muddy and famished, devouring a bowl of porridge as if it would run away if he didn't hurry. ''I didn't dare open it, but I sure would love to know.''
''That's none of your business, Courier, and had you opened a messaged marked with this seal – a knight's seal – you'd have been flogged on the spot. Now get back to the kitchens until I call for you.''
Ducking under the flap, the courier disappeared into the rain.
Farrow sighed and turned to his map table. ''I've been such a fool,'' he muttered. ''First they take the sun, then the monarchs, and now the castle itself.''
He had no means to meet Sir Auru's demands, not while his sixty thousand men sat fenced in by the mountains and the Moblin batteries scattered around them. He was surprised the courier had found him at all; it took no small amount of bravery to make the long trek from Panacle Cove across the Zora River and through the Eldinian Ridge on their own, and a ridiculous amount of luck to make it past Lizalfos scouts.
Hopefully he could do it again. Him and ten others of his choosing. Anything to raise the odds of being heard.
He whirled around and sat at his desk, hastily sharpening his quill before dipping it into his pot of dwindling ink:
Sir Nahamani,
we have been surrounded in Dalagra since the Cloud hit. We are facing a breed of monsters never before encountered, abominations that can corrupt our soldiers to become monsters themselves. The Moblin armies are moving at speeds that defy reason; I have reports of an enemy battalion defending awestern stronghold appearing at a skirmish a hundred miles north in the same afternoon. The possibility of magical involvement you speak of is therefore confirmed. Most of the King's army has been herded to the city, and only a single regiment remains in Forgaru.
Every attempt at breaking out of Eldin Ridge has been met with the full force of our enemy and hundreds of hostages on the front lines. I dare not engage, for these hostages are children. Some as young as four years of age. My terror for these children's lives runs deeper than my desperation to break free. I fear any aid you send would either be trapped as well, or risk the children's safety. Stay your hand. Hold position in Castle Town.
That is an order.
High General Alvise Farrow,
Commander of His Majesty's Army, King Rhoaban Gustaf Hyrule
He leaned back, already aiming at calling his scribe who sat with the remainder of the general's staff devouring what little supper had been scraped together that evening. But then he shook his head and grabbed another paper, copying the message himself.
000
Author's note: my husband, who is a devoted strategy game player, has been very helpful in devising plans of action and army coordination for both Hyrule's and Zant's army, of which you can see some glimpses in this last part. Though this chapter isn't as long as my previous ones, for me it was a good practicing ground for "picking up the pace", which is just as important in writing as character development, world building, or excessive descriptions. But most importantly, it was a very welcome pastime to bridge an uncomfortable sickness period (your kidneys are important, take good care of them!). In this strange time of ever-changing health-and-safety laws, children yearning for their social contacts, and craftspeople like me drowning in orders from home-officed businessmen, a little respite is a desperate must. So a big thanks to my body for forcing me to take a break and giving me time to finish this chapter.
Stay healthy, but most importantly: stay sane!
DR