Chapter 22
Link and Rusl were roused out of their half-sleep the next morning by the frantic rattle of bells.
A swarm of monster bodies littered the ground around them like leaves on a forest path; Wolfos, Chillfos, and Keese, the bulk of which had attacked at midnight and destroyed the hide tent in their attempt to reach the Mirror shard, forcing the two men, after slaying the last of their foes, to huddle close to the cliff wall for a semblance of shelter.
Auru rushed to their side and placed into Rusl's outstretched, trembling hand an insulated bottle with hot tea. "Let's get you both warmed up, shall we?" he said with forced cheerfulness while he handed out dry blankets. "We've a long road ahead of us. But I've organised a carrier and a crate, which should make things easier."
"Look, Link," Rusl murmured, gently shaking his son out of his fitful snooze. "It's Epona."
At the mention of his horse, Link's cheeks flushed pink with weak life and joy as he gazed at his beloved mare approaching at a trot across the white plain. She and Rusl's stallion were tethered to a large wooden cargo sleigh upon which rested an iron box, still steaming with heat from the forges it had sprung from. Their tack had been outfitted with little bells that rang happily as she sauntered forward, pulling the other horse with her, heedless of Ashei tugging at their reins to stop her. The female captain was subjected to rough seas when Epona mindlessly dragged the sleigh over the monster corpses and finally buried her snout in Link's white, bloodless hands.
"Hey g-girl," he muttered, pressing his face against her muzzle. "It's g-good t-t-to see you, t-too."
"Sweet Mother Din…" Ashei mumbled as she took in the sight of the many monster corpses. "If I'd known it'd be this bad, I'd have stayed behind, as well." She began laboriously extracting herself from the lopsided sleigh and crouched next to her three colleagues by Link's side, placing a bundle of cheesecloth on top of the young Hylian's drawn-up knees. The spicy fragrance coming from it coaxed Link's eyes wide open.
"My mother says goodbye," Ashei said. "She hopes you'll enjoy another taste of home." The smile she gave him was graced with subtle, but genuine kindness as she lifted the cloth to reveal a large pumpkin pie slice. Epona leaned in further and sniffed the treat with very apparent interest.
"Thank you, C-captain." Link exhaled a small chuckle and gently pushed his mare's large head aside.
"Eat it," Auru commanded. "It'll help warm you up."
Link didn't have to be told twice, and broke off a large wedge before handing the rest to Rusl. The creamy orange filling came apart with gooey ease, bringing instant moisture back to his parched mouth before he'd even had a first taste.
"We also explained to my mother the overall situation, as vaguely as we could, and without mentioning your position in it," Ashei continued more somberly. "She has given the Agency access to the Silver Brigade in case it is needed. It's about five hundred men of elite training scattered around the townships. They are hardy and loyal. And, for what good it will do, I have asked her to send a scouting party into those Yeti territories we know of."
"If they can be reasoned with, as we managed with Yeto and Yeta, they would be formidable allies," Auru added. "We should not get our hopes up, but it's worth a try."
Link nodded, blinking back his exhaustion with effort. After a moment of slow, silent chewing, he looked up at the three faces regarding him and frowned. "What is it?"
Ashei cleared her throat. "Auru has put me in charge until we reach Hyrule, but, well… You technically outrank us all." She gestured vaguely at the purple-hilted sword resting upright in the snow beside Link, an ever-vigilant sentry.
"You are my captain, Ashei, and Sir Auru is my commander," Link said firmly. "My… identity doesn't change anything about that. I'm far too inexperienced to be of any use in a leading position."
He noticed Rusl turning to him with a mild smile, and Link couldn't tell if it was of pride or objection.
"I'm honoured," Ashei answered with a bow of her head. "But we will also honour your position. You know more about this invasion than any of us, and you predicted that the Mirror shard would still hold a form of malicious intent and attract all those monsters. I'm not going to make a decision without asking for your counsel first. Any insight you can give us will be invaluable, and significantly raise our chances of success."
The unspoken reprimand within her words reached all the way to Link's core, darkening his eyes once more with his now familiar, stony resolve. "Of course, Captain."
Nodding grimly, she gestured at the cargo sleigh. "I had our fort blacksmiths work through the night on that crate there. It is completely impenetrable once sealed and can be easily carried with those side handles. Once back we'll exchange these padlocks for some of Mistress Gobinet's high-security ones. I believe it will be sufficient in keeping monsters away from it, in case it does hold a remnant of power. What do you think? Will it be enough to contain it?"
Link took a moment to reply, his stiff neck twisting back and forth between the crate and the Mirror half-concealed within the shredded tent. "I think so. I hope so."
"Then, with your approval, we'll load up and move out. We thought it best that you ride in the sleigh and stay close to the shard to protect it. Rusl will be driving, Sir Auru and I will be escorts. We stocked up on arrows and crossbows as well if, or rather when, we have to defend ourselves again."
"Sounds good," Link said as he and Rusl were helped up by Auru. "Only, this is a sleigh, and in Hyrule it's summer."
"Aye, very observant," Ashei grinned and pointed proudly at the base of the sleigh. "It's a special carrier we use to ferry goods between the high- and lowlands. It has wagon wheels stored underneath it and retractable axle stubs to replace the skids."
Link, shaky on his feet after little food and even less rest over several days, tried and failed miserably to lift the heavy Mirror shard from the ground and into the tailor-made iron crate, but his three companions proved resourceful. Using the shifting snow to shove two solid wooden staves underneath it, Auru and Rusl lifted it easily and set it down over the open box, where Link then held up the sides long enough to remove the staves and let gravity do the rest.
With the road beckoning, the quartet drove their horses along the deserted path and settled into a contemplative silence. Link curled up on the cargo hold and, wrapped into three blankets, let himself be lulled to sleep by the tack bells ringing calmly from the horses' vigorous trot. Every once in a while, when a jolt woke him with a start, he'd steal a nibble from the delicious pumpkin pie and fill his palate with its nostalgic taste that brought tears to his eyes; tears he frantically concealed from Rusl's periodic glances back.
Clear skies accompanied their descent from the Snow Peak mountain range as if the region voiced an apology of beauty and brightness for the many troubling events they left in their wake. The snow blanket gradually filtered through gravel and soil, and the air rushed with spring warmth in a timelapse of passing seasons goaded by the decreasing elevation, until the first summer flowers cavorted tentatively by the roadside in the mild breeze. For the first time in more than two weeks, the Resistance members were given an ovation by birds and crickets that clamoured and replaced the sounds of crackling ice and windy snowfall, congratulating them on their accomplished mission, oblivious of the price that had been paid.
Oblivious, the Agency members were not. Neither were the monsters they trailed behind them. The rocky mountain range above the crags forming Zora's Domain was home to crab-like Tektites Link had read about in Bestiary I, which were also common in the hills around Ordonafawn. Easily disposed of, they nonetheless kept the group occupied and challenged when a dozen of them threatened to swarm the now-converted sleigh. A few stray Bokoblins waddled down the mountain as well, attracted by the Mirror shard, and those who slipped past Auru's and Ashei's blades made attempts to hop onto the cargo hold where they were met with Link's disgruntled face and his likewise angry sword.
Ashei sounded a frantic alarm when, finally, a dreaded group of Lizalfos whizzed down the mountain and surrounded them. Everyone knew what was at stake and fought with renewed vigour to keep both their horses and the cart out of reach of the aggressive lizards. The fatigue nonetheless showed, and Auru failed to heed his own warning from all those days ago at the Zora outpost and found himself entangled within an armoured Lizalfos' claws. Before the weakened and immobilised Resistance leader could be decapitated by a Lizal sword, the weapon promptly dissolved into black speckles and disappeared, to the monster's profound confusion. Link swept in from behind and finished it off before it could recover, then caught the reappearing blade in mid-air and chucked it at the last lizard's throat so hard the monster whirled in place before collapsing with its tongue lolling out.
"What happened?" Ashei asked, stooping over the now inconspicuous blade sticking out like a mislaid toothpick. "Did the blade just disappear?"
"I don't know what you mean, Captain," Auru retorted, wheezing, but Link could see the strain of the deception on his wrinkled face. "Maybe it was a trick of the light."
"No, I did that," Link replied tiredly and, now silently pressured by his confused companions, alleviated Auru's discomfort with his own deception; a partial truth with a diverging root, but he hardly cared. Midna's wish to remain anonymous was more important to him than his exposure. And though they hadn't come to any conclusions regarding her magic being openly used by him, this cut any doubts short and settled the matter simply by circumstance. It was the better choice, and he had to be better.
"You are full of surprises," Ashei murmured, and let the matter drop just as quickly as it had arisen. Her single wagging brow, however, promised a more thorough interrogation further down the line, when they had finally reached the safety of Castle Town.
The night found them too close to Zora's Domain and the unlicenced roadside marketplace they had passed on their journey northward to risk a stop and put the people in harm's way, forcing them to cross the many closed stalls and booths in a hurry. Several shouts of alarm were called by Zora guards as bony masses rose from the street and clacked after the cart; Stalhounds, the bane of the night in Hyrule and the only Stals to be found outside tombs and graveyards. According to Auru, the night was enough to conjure their appearance, and cleaved in half a canine spine with another wheeze of exhaustion.
By morning the hours of wakefulness had taken their toll on them all, and the horses were stumbling. They rested within a small, secluded forest using the high cart as shelter against the light rainfall that the northern Lanayru fields greeted them with. Link, wielding his sword now obscured from recognition with a fresh bandage around the iconic purple hilt, paced restlessly back and forth, too nervous to sleep, his eyes peeled on the unshaped horizon that leered at him with the promise of battle but never indulged in an alleviation of his worries. The morning passed suspiciously without incident, and in the early afternoon hours Ashei called them back to duty.
The expansive fields of Lanayru brought with them the ultimate threat they had all been dreading; they appeared on top of a hill nearby as a cluster of small dots of blackness, dots that soon closed in with a drumroll beat. Blazing arrows pattered like sparks from the small Bulblin patrol, spiked horns glistened in the summer rain, their points two parallel promises of shattered spokes and perforated horse flanks.
"Blast, just as I left my mortar at home," Auru muttered grimly while running their options through his head. Horseback battles did not count among his greatest strengths, but he doubted they had a choice lest the arrows, shot haphazardly from pea-brained foes, injure the cart horses.
Ashei led him head-on into the fray and, shield raised, heart hammering, the two escorts whirled their sabres into the Bulblin riders and across Bullbo haunches. Behind them, the cart raced with clunking axles and rumbling wheels down the Western Road. Link, standing with one foot on the Mirror's metal crate, shot down whatever enemy made it past them. And while a few blazing enemy arrows grazed and charred the wagon's side, the rain made quick work of extinguishing any ensuing glimmer.
The cartwheels came to a blessed stop hours later, dragged more than pulled by the two spent horses, as the hybrid wagon stopped by Auru's secret cache in the shadow of the capital; a solitary farmer's shack that hid within its bowels a trapdoor and a cellar, wide and fortified, that tapped into one of Hyrule's many cave systems.
Dismounting, Auru waved his retinue closer and addressed Link, though seeming particularly careful that the younger Hylian was not singled out. "I had plans to give the shard into safe hands here. They're extremely capable and even more secretive, so we can trust them." In a breathless whisper, he asked Link directly, "We're being watched, so be subtle with your response. Do I have your permission to go ahead?"
Link caught on at once; the Agency leader openly asking a lowly squire for such permission would cast an instant spotlight of suspicion on said squire. He blinked once with a minute bob of his head. You have.
As they heaved the heavy iron crate down from the cart and into the shack, a silhouette wreathed in darkness shifted beneath the thatched roof. "What does the Gossip Stones say about the Shadow folk?" a soft voice said.
Link, Ashei, and Rusl spun around in search of the sound and found no one.
"They say Princess Zelda's protector is one of the Sheikah, who many thought had died out," Auru replied into the darkness.
A satisfied hum resounded, followed by a whisper of cloth and black smoke as the two figures lowered themselves from the rafters. Their silver hair was bound to tight buns upon their heads and shimmered like nacre in the lamplight. They were dressed rather peculiarly in tight suits of dark blue linen and white shawls that covered their faces, displaying a filigree symbol upon their chests—a red eye shedding a single tear.
"You're very late, Auru," one of them said, though not unkindly, as if it was merely an observation and not a reproach. Link couldn't quite tell if the voice was male or female. "We expected you a week ago."
Auru apologised, bowing with his hand upon his heart. "We were delayed by adverse weather," was the only explanation he disclosed, before introducing the two shadowy figures as Starad and Kuyi, agents of the mystical Sheikah tribe, secret servants to the royal family, and two of his very good friends. They were of equal height and build, muscular but lean, and while Starad was utterly vague in their bodily proportions, Kuyi showed subtle curves that hinted at her gender. Their blood-red eyes pierced the twilight like blazing cinders.
"Why doesn't it surprise me that you've got ties to the Sheikah as well, Sir?" Ashei sighed and studied the two individuals with interest.
"Well, after the king tactfully retired me from service in my late twenties, my potential was exploited by people with a little more common sense. Where do you think I learned all of this undercover plotting, Captain?" Auru, too tired to be modest, led the newcomers into the shack.
"This is the cargo I mentioned," he said to the two Sheikah. "It must be kept hidden and defended at all times, and I will need daily security reports." Stiffly he detailed the many monster attacks and insisted on the danger the parcel presented, and when Kuyi asked about the nature of the cargo, his refusal to give insight as to what was hidden inside the box seemed to faze the Sheikah very little. She simply nodded nonchalantly and beckoned for her partner to follow.
"We will keep it like we keep our secret, Auru," Starad assured, in their uncanny androgynous voice, and to the other Agency members silently watching, they raised a silver eyebrow. "I expect the same from your companions. All of them," they added, regarding Link coldly. Link silently revelled in the frown, the first unbiased look that he had been given since the battle.
"They all swore an oath of secrecy and have proven their integrity," Auru assured. "Even the squire. You have nothing to fear."
When, at last, the party was freed of its otherworldly burden and lumbered down the road towards nightly Castle Town and the promise of a hot meal and real beds, Link chanced a glance back at the solitary shack and watched it slowly disappear within a shroud of mist drifting from the moist ground. Soon, it was entirely obscured, and would remain so to human eyes and monsters alike, veiled in Sheikah magic that, centuries ago and within a future that had ultimately been undone, had concealed the princess of Hyrule from her many enemies for seven long years.
0
Link traced his finger over the sombre stone wall of his monastic sleeping quarters to disturb his mind's image of Yeta's blurry face, hoping the gesture would get rid of it gently. His head still throbbed and his back pulsed with a knot of pain; no position he twisted into alleviated the ache. It was a pitiful search for relief he soon gave up when the reason for his anguish became clear once more. These wounds had been no accident. He had to power through the discomfort… and be better.
Be better, the mantra crooned.
He was exhausted, but like every night since their return to the tavern, sleep was hard to ensnare. Like smoke, it glided through his fingers each time he thought he had finally caught it, and wakefulness once more dragged his burning eyelids apart. Whenever he slipped into unconsciousness for more than a few minutes, in his half-sleep, a gentle purring rode upon the murmurs of his rushing ears and made him bolt up, wide awake again. Nothing. Silence but for the snow layering itself on the tent canvas, making a sound like seafoam. He had to blink a few times to dispel the illusion; this was his room within the secret depths of the Resistance headquarters, not his solitary tent boxed in by looming cliff walls. Though, if he was being honest, he hardly found a difference. The cold persisted, as did the loneliness.
The shard was gone, and with it the responsibility. And yet, he felt no peace.
Doctor Lysh had been perplexed, or rather astounded, after his extensive examination of Link's body marked with old, tan bruises, perforations from the wood slivers, and newer lesions from the many monster battles, had revealed remnants of what the field surgeon unsubtly described as: "—an infection of the meninges, in other words, the brain lining. You, boy, have been bleeding germs through that crack in your skull and right into your brain, and walked away with nary a stiff neck and some higher temperature to account for it. You must truly have been born within the goddesses' cradle; such a disease is fatal, always. Or so I thought."
He wove out of their confusing tale a hypothesis that the reekfish soup might have been responsible for neutralising the infection, but would have to consult his books to be sure, in which case the fish might see an increase in popularity that would eradicate the species almost instantly. The sacred nature of the crimson stink fish thus became a little clearer, and Yeto's beastly wisdom all the more baffling.
Thankfully Rusl, after having staved off a first spell of faintness, brought the doctor's attention back to the matter of treating whatever remained of Link's injuries, and ushered him out the door as quickly as was courteous. The few days Link had been told to stay in the infirmary passed uneventfully, feigning sleep half of the time, and feigning wakefulness the other half. But during his last visit before dismissing Link, the doctor seemed a little too concerned with the vacant stare Link held and asked for a moment alone with his patient.
"Feeling alright, laddie?"
Link knew any reply even suggesting negation would find him back in the sickroom for Nayru knew how long, and nodded with a weak smile that left his eyes untouched. The doctor wasn't fooled.
"Auru didn't exactly give me much information concerning your last mission, as most of it seems to be classified, but it can't have been easy. You were caught in an avalanche, and you were in your first real battle."
Link scoffed inwardly but didn't attempt to correct the surgeon. "I had a lot of support from the others," he replied.
"I'm sure you did. You still seem a little… off to me. Are you sure everything is fine?"
"Yes, Sir." Link could see that it was not convincing enough, so he decided to be a little lenient; the doctor only wanted to help, after all. "I mean, I've had a bit of trouble sleeping lately, because of the pain. But it's getting better every day."
Dr. Lysh tapped two fingers on the bedside table, making a sound like a woodpecker. "If you need something to help you sleep, you need only ask. I'm just a Peet-errand away."
"Thank you, doctor," Link assured, watched the surgeon leave, and promptly forgot the meeting had ever taken place.
The Resistance was back to the drawing board concerning the second Mirror shard, elusive in both its whereabouts and the clues that were meant to lead them to it.
"Surrounded by sacred walls…" Auru had muttered to Rusl and Ashei shortly after their arrival. "That just about sums up the entirety of Hyrule's religious infrastructure. The only narrowing factor we have is that the sages pointed south, which could mean temples and churches stretching from Ashinon as far south as the Ordonian border into Labrynna."
He delegated the task of unearthing and listing all religious plots of land and stone departing from the Gerudo canyons to poor Shad, who—severed from his passionate research about his questionable Oocca population—lurched himself into the tedious work with angry gusto.
When Link had finally extracted himself from his infirmary duty, he sought out Ashei Amauger first. The captain of both the small Agency forces and one of Castle Town's elite infantry units had displayed, unsurprisingly, the littlest adaptation towards Link's revealed identity and had long come to the conclusion that reverence was the last thing Link needed to fulfil his task. She met with him in the evening inside the training hall at the east barracks and listened unsmiling to his request to be trained.
"So Garril was right after all, in a certain oblique way," she chuckled glumly. "That bastard is too clever for his own good, and too arrogant to notice. No wonder you froze up during his first proper attack, if Zant used the same technique to outsmart and stab you. The body remembers such things, believe me." She passed a light hand over her shoulder and fell for a short moment into silence and remembrance.
"I still find it hard to understand why you kept all this from us for so long, Link," she continued, more harshly. "Surely it must have crossed your mind that our resources could only benefit you. Instead, you played this deception game and gave us nothing but small scraps of paint from this vast mural that is this ridiculous war of twilight and shadow magic."
"I was wrong, Captain, and I will bear the responsibility and all its consequences willingly."
She shook her head with a blast of breath. "There's no mortal alive who could do that. How old are you, sixteen? Instead of bearing it all, why don't you try sharing it?"
"I am," he replied with a feeble gesture at her. "I need your help to learn fencing so I can counter Zant's attacks. I need to become better at everything I do. That includes… leading people, I reckon."
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she studied his slanted posture and darkened, downcast face. "Pardon my forwardness, but you don't exactly radiate imperious lustre. And if we want to make full use of your… other form, as well as that vanishing magic you have, I predict that a more hidden approach would likely suit you better. You might still be put into the situation where your mythical authority could rouse the right people to action, but until that happens, perhaps it is for the better that the world remains in the unknown."
"Those were my thoughts, and Auru's, prior to our mission. Look what happened."
"Yes, because you went on that mission with two more people who knew nothing of it and should perhaps have been included—"
"That lesson will stick, Captain. I guarantee you."
She nodded, but a slight frown betrayed she had finally caught on to the deeper reaches of his melancholy. Her words became softer, laced with, for her, a rare feminine touch that almost sounded motherly. Harshness would work to discipline delinquents and egocentrics, but Link was neither of these things, and in his case, it would likely do the opposite. Ashei knew a traumatised soul when she saw one.
"No one is perfect, Link. Making yourself choke on that lesson over and over again will not change that."
"I have to be better." His never-ending mantra, uttered in a whisper.
"You have to own your mistakes, and realise that they happened not because you meant for them to happen, but because you had good reasons for your actions and things got out of control. Though it might have sounded like it in the beginning, I never have, and never will, blame you for Hum's death. Because blame is meaningless and only leads to suffering. By all means, try to become better, but don't let guilt be the only drive for your betterment. Instead, try to find meaning in what abilities you already have, and expand on them. I will help you with your shortcomings concerning blade work, as will Auru and Rusl, I'm sure. We'll shape you into the warrior you need to be. That responsibility will be ours now and no longer yours. Agreed?"
Her words joined the vast amount of wisdom, support, promises, and encouragement he had already been given, and coursed through his mind endlessly in the long hours he spent without sleep. Slowly they worked on his consciousness, hammered steadily at the mountain of guilt and shame he had amassed, the mountain which he knew had to vanish if he meant to finally fulfil his appointed duty. But no matter how much he told himself he had to break it, level it, bomb it into oblivion, Yeta's and Yeto's anguished faces, Humley's vacant stare, Auru's uncharacteristic distance, Rusl's struggle with balancing fatherly love and soldierly respect, sturdied its stone and amplified its weight.
Only time and success would erode its jagged edges and soften the intrinsic cliffs of doubt he harboured.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He felt Midna's tiny palms upon his arm, drawing him out of his head and back to the lulling darkness they lay in.
"No. Sorry I woke you."
"If you want, I can tell you more about the politics and hierarchy in the Twilight realm," she said hopefully. "It's so boring that it's bound to make you fall asleep."
Though the offer was tempting, it hadn't been made voluntarily; he could discern her reluctance already. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. I'll just… wander the hallways a bit again, or read something mundane."
"Shall I come with you?"
He declined again and urged her to stay in bed, locking the door to his room behind him so Telma or Rusl, the people who usually woke him in the mornings, wouldn't barge in and discover her asleep in his bed. She could use the shadows to slip beneath the door if she needed to get out.
His destination was not the meeting hall at the end of the corridor where the many chairs and the three looming bookshelves had, in the beginning, given him a place to spend his restless nights; no longer were books sufficient to pacify his mind. His soul yearned for betterment, for change, for progress, in any way he could get it.
The door next to Auru's office opened into the unassuming broom closet, and the ladder at the end led up into the hidden storeroom behind the cheap guest quarters. He passed the trapdoor, rimmed by a camouflaging crate, and quietly swung open the back panel of the third guest room's wardrobe, emerging within the cramped room that housed, to his left, a three-layered bunk bed. To every other uninvolved tenant in the tavern, he officially occupied the top bunk with Rusl and Shad below him, and thus needed to leave the hidden quarters through that third room door to keep up the ruse.
He slunk through the deserted tavern hall and out into the night. It was hot and humid. Somewhere in the distance a faint bell chimed frantically, accompanied by clanking plate armour as guards rushed to the southern drawbridge. Monster skirmishes, though harmless against the city's defences, were growing more frequent each night. He made for the tight cluster of warehouses near the market, slipped into the shadows, and began climbing the side of the largest building. Up on the rooftop he knelt and observed the ruckus, watched as crossbowmen wound up and fired their instruments, listened to the rattling bones of Stalhounds that imploded with bolts. Higher-pitched screeches indicated one or two Lizalfos among them. Lizals could climb walls, too. A shifting shadow in the fitful torchlight revealed a Kargarok, its bat-like wings sending waves of air at the shouting guards. An explosion, blasting a crater into the ranks of men on the wall; its Bulblin rider was throwing bombs at them.
He brought out his crystal, and the blue-eyed beast sprang from his huddled form and bounded across the rooftops and over the battlements to soar like a cannon shot straight at the Kargarok, ploughing into it, teeth ajar. They whirled to the ground in a flutter of torn wings outside the city wall, the Kargarok's throat ripped bare.
On his desperate search for a chance to help, his path that night led him through the farms and fields, the villages and the monasteries, until he heard interspersed alerts and whispering arrows. A maiden of Hylia from a neighbouring convent, her white ceremonial dress caught in the claws of two Bulblins, was freed with a precise snap of his powerful jaws that harmed none but her attackers and left her stunned long enough for him to make his escape. A refugee group camping among the trees, in the midst of battle with an encircling Moblin party, was assisted discreetly until one of the bowmen noticed the black predator and shot at it, mistaking it for an enemy. The canine disappeared and secretly, from within the darkness, it escorted the covered wagons to the nearest village, snapping the spines of emerging Stalhounds before they could ever approach the firelight.
The rosy rim of dawn brought him back to the tavern and the third guest room, the trapdoor and broom closet, and finally allowed his body to shut down for longer than an hour. Three, to be precise, after which a seismic knock on his door roused him to another day of kitchen duty and sword training.
His body's sluggishness, and the hovering fog within his head, was brutally pushed aside whenever he trained with Ashei. Drawing from the wells of power that the Wolf and the Master Sword seemed to provide him, he bridged the gap created by his insomnia with resolve and grimness. The attempt was there, each day he learned a new form and was given genuine praise by Ashei, to feel pride about his quick progress and to enjoy the feeling of surety that crystalised out of his innate dexterity. For he was talented, as the female captain often pointed out, and far more agile than any of her regular students.
But it became harder and harder to focus as hours of movement blurred together and Ashei's words became devoid of sense. He stumbled often, failing to summon what strength he had left as it was used simply to keep him awake. When Ashei sent him home, however, and he collapsed onto his bed ready to surrender, the mantra resumed dutifully, images arose and greeted him grimly, fractions of dreams pushed him over the edge and he awoke screaming, sweating, shivering, until he felt Midna's arms wrap around his middle to calm him down.
During another sleepless night, he couldn't take it anymore. The tears flowed and would not stop. Midna cooed and stroked his back but it did not help. He was accosted with images that urged him to simply smash his head against the wall until he passed out. And he almost did, if he'd had the strength for it. His forehead rested against the cool stone, hot and moist, while he tried to make out what Midna was saying.
"I'll go get Auru or Rusl. Link, this is not normal."
"No, don't," he commanded, finally able to tame his tears and stumble towards the door. "I know what I have to do." Be better.
"I'm coming with you."
He had no stamina left to argue, only enough to struggle his way along the convoluted passages through the tavern innards until he was outside on South Market Street. Doctor Lysh's home was close to the barracks on account of his former profession, for which he received a modest pension. Link stood before the plain wood door and grappled with his resolution to knock—it was long past midnight, and the doctor would be asleep. Midna, after arguing with him and unintentionally breaking his determination, pounded hard on the door for him instead. It opened before Link managed to scurry out of sight.
"Aha, the medical wonderboy," Lysh said in surprise, but his countenance grew hard when the moonlight fell on Link's ashen face. "Dear Nayru, did you bash in your head again?"
"I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Hard to pull off when one wasn't asleep. Is that not what you should be? Hm? Asleep?"
When Link entered the radius of his lamp, Lysh's myopic eyes told the doctor everything he needed to know. "Good gracious. Come inside."
Not listed as a proper infirmary but often mistaken as one, the doctor's home held, through necessity, a small room furnished with shelves of medicine bottles, cabinets filled with abhorrent-looking equipment, and a spare bed upon which he sat Link down. His first instinct prompted him to run seeking fingers along the boy's temples, but the break had long since closed and the raccoon eyes were no longer of bruising.
"Days without sleep, hm?" he reiterated thoughtfully, absently correcting himself when Link spoke of single hours at a time spent in a daze, not truly asleep, but still resting.
"Those are naps, boy, not sleep. What took you so long to seek me out, hm? I'll give you a strong sleeping draught and keep you here for the night, but this warrants a deeper analysis. Was I correct in assuming that your first battle and that avalanche took more out of you than you thought?"
He was hardly prepared for what Link's mantra incited him to answer with.
The doctor was a neutral party, neither on Auru's level of conspiratory fellowship, nor Ashei's role of mentor, nor shared Rusl's close familial bond, and thus presented a comfortable dissociation, a blank canvas upon which Link could paint a fresh image of his troubles. He was also a risk, which gave Link no reason to disclose his entire truth. But, haltingly at first, Link found himself opening up, laying bare the deeper, obscurer images and thoughts that coursed through his mind, goaded and amplified and too subtle to be destroyed by his mantra or recognised as threats. The doctor listened without interrupting, his face attentive and nodding as if it was hardly the first he had ever heard of this. Link didn't expect it was. Still, it felt blissfully liberating not just to spread it all out on a metaphorical table, but to be heard without judgement and by someone who seemed to have experience with it.
His mantra had been right after all. Being better needn't be a pressure, unless it was to seek what his mind, body, and soul truly needed to keep functioning. Then that pressure, that constant repetition, was essential.
"You know, there is a good reason why soldiers enter the service at the age of eighteen," Joralph Lysh, retired army surgeon, said after a long silence. His minuscule spectacles squished his face but also rendered it benign and wise. "And even some battle-worn blademasters, after witnessing what you have witnessed, might find day-to-day life difficult. There is no shame in that—war is a tragedy and affects the entirety of a nation, and most cruelly its young generation. I am impressed but ultimately not surprised to hear you had joined the Resistance to help find the kidnapped children, if you tell me you had been kidnapped yourself. Understandable. What I find less understandable is why Auru insists on bringing you on his missions. I have always been in strong disagreement with him regarding his use of children to do field work—little Peet comes to mind here, and those two sweet barmaids, Batreaux two decades ago, and now you. Because of this, you now find yourself responsible for that creature's death, and for this other man's fate. This is certainly not your burden to carry, but Auru's, by virtue of him being the commander. He put you into that situation and you must now reap the consequences. I'm not sure that is entirely fair."
Perched on a stool, the tall surgeon was at eye-level with Link sitting slumped on the bed, and was quick to discern the exact opposite conviction in the younger Hylian's eyes. Although he couldn't explain it, his experience made him accept it out of principle; what went on in a wounded mind could not always be explained rationally.
"Post-traumatic stress, which is what's keeping you from sleeping, by the way, is different for each person, and which can happen to anyone."
"It shouldn't have happened, not to… me," Link murmured. Not to the hero chosen by the goddesses.
"And yet it did." If Dr. Lysh found Link's comment slightly confusing, or saw beneath the waves a glimpse of the deeper parts of that iceberg, he made no mention of it. "I've spoken to countless soldiers before you who suffered from the same affliction. Again, it's nothing to be ashamed of, and it can be treated like any other disease. It will require a bit more time and effort, and sadly there isn't a potion or herb I can give you that will simply erase it. But I think, if we get you the sleep your body needs, that's a good place to start. After that, we'll see how you feel and discuss what else we can do to get rid of those images and thoughts. How's that sound?"
It sounded… exhausting; like more time spent preparing when he should be acting. These thoughts, as dark and unpleasant as they were, had kept Link going all this time. They were his fuel no matter how much they polluted his sanity. Unless he found a different kind of drive, he doubted he could afford to be rid of them anytime soon. Not that he wanted to; the most fundamental part of it was simple yet critical. If he tried to forget Humley and Yeta and the tormenting impact their deaths had on him, it would be the worst form of disrespect he could show them. If his holy duty did not allow him to punish himself adequately for his actions, holding on to this torture had to be sufficient.
"I'll start with some sleep," he replied, dutifully obedient, secretly evasive.
"All right, enough chatting, then." The surgeon proffered a small flask and popped the cork before handing it to Link. "Bottoms up."
The sleep that took Link a few minutes later wasn't a god-sent liberation, or a sudden release of tension like letting go of a spring that had been held apart for too long. It eased him into its embrace, a little like Yeta's arms when he had been shivering with cold, but felt more like a choking force imposing upon him something he would have fought and shunned otherwise. This time his body had no choice but to sleep. It made him feel like he was drowning; like coils of gooey tentacles pulled him deeper and deeper, augmenting the pressure around him, staring at him with a single massive eye that could see right into his soul. He writhed and gasped for a moment until the doctor's voice—so much like Rusl's—told him to let go. A moment later it was finally over, and he knew nothing more.
0
The list of sites with sacred walls was soon finished, scouts were sent to investigate, and Auru grew more desperate with every passing day they discovered nothing out of the ordinary.
"Why do the sages have to be so frustratingly vague?" he muttered to the handful of members he had gathered in the meeting hall that evening during which he was once more, supposedly, cavorting within Telma's upstairs bedroom. "The Hylian language has adjectives and adverbs for a reason."
"Any reports of unusual monster activity, or people acting strangely, or, I don't know, large footprints?" Ashei asked, mindlessly scattering the many scribbled papers Shad had brought up from his downstairs study, to the scholar's rising panic.
"None that pop out of the usual heightened monster activity, which, at this point, is alarmingly high," Auru said.
"The problem is that—Captain, I implore you, those are sorted alphabetically—is that the parameters of our search lend themselves to all manner of interpretation," Shad wheezed, gently pushing Ashei's hand aside. "Sacred walls could be existing temples and churches, of which we have many, or scattered ruins of such monuments, of which we have even more. The landscape is quite literally dusted with remnants of our forebears."
"It would have to be hidden, though, right?" Rusl interjected. "Zant hid the first shard in a cave on Snow Peak, the most remote place he could possibly find. Only through chance… or rather, through very bad luck, did the Yeti find it and bring it to his home. Which places are remote and susceptible to natural disasters similar to avalanches?"
Shad, his spectacles matted with grease stains, blinked and pointed at a particular sheet of paper, then at the map of Hyrule that was spread out before them. Red crosses, amidst blue, green, and yellow ones, formed a rough cone departing from the Arbiter's Grounds. "All of these red ones, Master Rusl," he snapped. "I already made that distinction."
"Oh. My apologies."
"I sent scouts to several of these locations, so we'll have to wait until anything abnormal is reported," Auru replied. "The only option we have is to wait."
"What was the last location the sages mentioned?" Ashei asked.
"The heavens," Auru and Shad both answered, followed by a unified sigh of annoyance.
"You have my research," Shad continued, his voice atypically frigid. "I cannot do more than what I've already done. Unless you want me to go out there and actively search for signs, which would end badly for the mission, and worse for me."
Auru chuckled diplomatically. "No, I'll let you go back to your own research for the time being. Thank you, Master Shad."
Auru quietly closed the door behind the scholar and sat back down. Because Shad had been the first in the meeting, he had not been able to speak of more sensitive topics to the rest of his enlightened companions overtly. And Link, being a squire and humble kitchen boy to everyone else, had no place in a meeting of such sensitive topics. "Has anyone seen Link?"
"He didn't come to our training today," Ashei said. Her temper was curbed because Rusl was present, but Auru knew she was not happy. Being busy with blacksmithing and training, Rusl hadn't seen his son either, and the instant fright upon the Ordonian's face drew an eye-fluttering sigh from Auru.
"I noticed he was not at his best yesterday," Ashei continued. "Do you know anything about that, Rus'?"
"He's extremely cryptic about his feelings. He's always been that way."
"Well, it doesn't help. If there's something holding him back, he needs to tell us so we can work through it. His progress is quick and impressive, but since we don't know how long that barrier will hold, I'd like it to be quicker still. We haven't even glanced in the direction of Gerudo stances and tactics yet."
"Give him time, Miss Ashei," Auru muttered. "He'll get there."
Tucked into his tunic's folds was Dr. Lysh's message informing him that Link had spent the night at the doctor's private domicile. It was highly contemptible, he knew, to keep such information from Link's mentor and his foster father, but… Secrets were the only ammunition he had left. With the mountain of paperwork his absence had heaped up, among which King Ralis's first letters asking for counsel had warranted immediate research and response, he hadn't found much opportunity to speak to Link privately in the evenings. This was his chance to straighten some things out.
He gathered the many sheets of paper and rolled up the map, dismissing the other two and once more assuring Rusl that Link had the right to take a day off if he needed it. He was slowly growing tired of all that unnecessary drama.
Joralph Lysh opened his door at Auru's knock twenty minutes later, and said, "Shouldn't you be pandering around for secrecy's sake?"
Sir Nahamani was not in the mood for banter. "An old man like me sometimes has trouble regarding… that. I found it acceptable to call it an early night. May I?"
"Sure, but if it's our wonderboy you're looking for, he left this afternoon."
"What?! Where?" Suddenly Auru felt faint. No, not again! Fool me a third time, shame on all of us!
"Don't lose your grammar, Auru. He said he'd be at the stables looking after his horse."
"Yes, well, I know him a little better than you, and that could mean anything!" Fuming, Auru whirled around and stomped off, but the doctor called him back.
"My personal medical practitioner's recommendation, Auru: I would cut that one loose. He's seen enough of this war."
"He's seen not nearly enough of it," Auru muttered and went off to find the delinquent who called himself a hero.
And found him, humming quietly to himself, sitting on a haybale within Epona's stall in the process of greasing her saddle, the massive red mare nibbling at the carrot sticks he teased in her direction. The stark contrast to the brittle shell of a young man he had been during the laborious trek back to Anouki Township before made Auru pause, take a deep breath, and look down at his portfolio thoughtfully. Dr. Lysh never lied about the severity of his patients' troubles, even if he was bound by law not to disclose any direct information about their ailments unless they gave their explicit consent. But Auru could hazard a guess as to what had incited Link to seek the surgeon out last night.
Seeing the boy once more before him, that small possibility returned, nibbling as it always did at his heartstrings, conjuring Yesha's elliptical face next to that younger, similarly round one, silently comparing it. Fifteen years of waiting and searching, hoping and praying… To finally find some sort of release…
But, no. How selfish would he be to use this moment for such an inquiry? They had a job to do, a divine task. This was what he needed to focus on, not… not that.
"There you are," he chimed happily and tried his best not to barge in. "No one could find you all day. I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Actually, you are bothering us," came Midna's sneer from the shadows beneath Auru, making him jump and Link stiffen with shock.
"Midna," Link hissed. "What was that f—"
"'He's seen not nearly enough of it'?" she mocked. "Enough of what, Sir Auru? Go on, tell us."
"You know, my Twili friend, you could put those shadow-merging skills to far better uses than taking other people's words out of context," Auru said calmly. "I'm not here to do anything more than discuss our options concerning the next Mirror shard. After all, aren't we gathering them to free your realm from its usurper?"
"We are gathering them to free your monarch from her prison, Sir Nahamani," she shot back.
"Midna, it's okay," Link cut in warmly. "Sir Auru, I had trouble sleeping and Doctor Lysh gave me a sleeping draught, which knocked me out till early afternoon. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." He rose and heaved the large saddle onto a trestle close by, wiping his hands on a towel. "What is it you wanted to show me?"
They knelt on the straw-sprinkled ground and laid out the map, framing it with the many sheets of notes.
"Shad believes the Mirror shard might be hidden amid the ruins instead of an active church or monastery since we presume that Zant's primary goal was to hide the shards. Their ability to corrupt living things might just be a self-defence mechanism. The sages said 'Surrounded by sacred walls' and pointed south. But a lot of places are sacred in that direction."
Link pulled one leg up and rested his chin on top of it, chewing thoughtfully on his lip as he studied the cone of crosses on the map. He stretched out his left hand and traced a line from the Arbiter's grounds down towards the enormous Faron forest.
"Have you been properly discharged from Dr. Lysh?" Auru asked softly. "If you need another day of rest, you have every right to take it. I know things haven't exactly been easy for you recently."
Link nodded without looking up. "It's mind-boggling what a good night's sleep can do for you." His finger shifted to the Forest Temple by the Southern Road, then hovered northwest to an unmarked spot within the trees. "I mean, it does the opposite, really. The mind becomes much clearer. Especially if you haven't had a good night's sleep in a week."
Auru felt a pang of guilt, and regretted his harsh comment to the doctor instantly. "You should have come to me. We could have talked about it."
"You should have gone to him," Midna snarled.
"It served its purpose," Link replied absently, tapping that empty spot in central Faron devoid of any mark made by Shad. "I think I know which temple the sages meant. Midna and I came across it, mostly by accident. The princess told us of it just before she imprisoned Ganon. It's where I found the Master Sword."
Auru frowned. "You said you found it simply in the forest. Which temple would that be?"
"I don't know what it's called, but it looked like a cathedral crumbled into ruins. And the Master Sword was inside a pedestal behind the main altar. There were walls all around, but no ceiling."
"I mean, that sounds like sacred walls to me. How can you be sure it's the right one, though? I doubt someone like Zant would know where to find such a place."
"Call it a… feeling? Zant may not have known of it, but Ganon might have. Those letters mentioned that he asked to visit many of Hyrule's holy places. Maybe he went there. I had a dream last night, about my ancestor. He spoke to me, though I can't remember what he said. That place," he tapped the empty space on the map with a finger. "That's where I met him, too."
"When you were there, did you feel any sort of magical—"
"No, but then again, Midna or I didn't feel anything of that sort at the Snow Peak ruins, either. If it was somewhere in that area around the cathedral, we wouldn't have known."
"Not unless you disturbed it, which I reckon you didn't. That is more progress than I anticipated. I'm willing to give it a shot. How…"
He regarded the expression on the youth's face; calm, perhaps a little detached, but coloured with healthy warmth once more. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm good, Sir. We can leave tomorrow, if you like."
"The doctor pronounced you fit to fight?"
"I've been training with Ashei for a week, Sir. I'm good as new."
"Not every condition has physical roots, Link. How are you holding up… mentally?"
A snort of indignation sounded from the shadows that Auru frowned at, and Link acknowledged with a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"As I said, Sir, I'm good. Sleep was all I needed."
Auru finally realised it; he was standing before a fortress, with high walls and higher battlements reaching all the way to the sky, giving away no glimpse as to what was behind it. He'd been denied access and was calmly, politely, being asked to turn around and head home. Gone was the shaky monument of desperate strength that had protected them on Snow Peak. Gone was the vacant stare, watching unseen events unfold below the limelight created by churning snow particles. That look of placid resolve, no longer grim but composed, with trace elements of something positive but unknown, was what Ashei had been demanding, Rusl had been hoping for, and Auru had expected. It was the look of a man unaffected by past hardships, only looking ahead towards his next target.
It was the look of a hero.
Why, then, did it nearly break his heart?
000
Author's note: Joralph Lysh, the field surgeon OC I added to bolster the Resistance numbers a bit, took on in this chapter a role of support and counsel that I found imperative to include. It is a small letter of thanks to all therapists and counsellors out there who dedicate themselves to helping people who suffer from wounds you cannot see. It is true that, often, those wounds need a lot more time and effort to heal than physical ones, and often people find themselves wishing they could exchange mental issues for physical ones; I have been guilty of that desire before. Often, mental problems manifest as physical ailments on their own. Often, people feel ashamed for having to "resort" to psychotherapy; Link thinks he is not allowed to feel this way because he is the hero. I have long believed that my mental issues were unfounded and "invalid" because I had the privilege of growing up in a loving, supportive family, while around me other people who weren't so lucky seemed to be doing fine.
My husband once told me this: pain is relative. It means that, what one person feels as pain might not be the same for another. That does not necessarily mean the suffering of the former is any less.
If you are someone who suffers, you have the right to ask for help. You have the right to receive it.
Part of the process of betterment is, sometimes, to change your point of views, your way of thinking, to open your perspective to other possibilities or methods. That process is not always easy, and may feel wrong. It is very easy to simply swing that pendulum in the opposite direction and hope that'll do the trick. It likely won't. The solution is somewhere in the middle, hard to spot, and even harder to keep a hold of because that pendulum likes to move around. In Link's case, he is doing exactly that and needs to realise that his solution (taking on all responsibility, pushing himself beyond his limits, indulging in selflessness that borders on self-harm) is not working. But he accepts Lysh's help of his own accord (with a little help from Midna), and that is a vital step in beginning the healing and betterment process; to accept the help you are given.
I hope I didn't sound patronising. I'm not a counsellor, and I certainly will never claim to have all the answers, but I have had the privilege of speaking to counsellors before, and found out: most lessons of life seem to be founded in common sense. And that is a promising thing.
See you next month!
DR