A/N:
As per usual, the grandest of all thank yous to Norkix (here on FFnet) for beta reading this chapter! It was a doozy, but with continual calls and revisions, we made it in the end. This chapter wouldn't have even been a fraction as coherent as it is now if it weren't for all the amazing notes and suggestions he provided!
I had hoped to upload this chapter shortly after the last one, but there were a number of outside forces that ended up preventing that from happening. Either way, I'm glad I was able to release the continuation at the start of 2024, and the next chapter truly won't be far behind (it just needs a few more tweaks, but both my beta and I have finished the bigger edits already).
Either way, I hope this is still enjoyable for anyone reading. Here's hoping for a lovely 2024, as well!
XXXXX
Just as Zelda had feared, the hallways and open rooms that littered the Palace of Winds were similar to the bedroom she had awoken in: dreary, decrepit, and utterly lonely. The exterior frame of the floating building appeared to be constructed from some specialized ore, or possibly a fossilized clay substance that the Wind Tribe had harvested long ago. She could hardly digest how this colossal palace was suspended in the sky by seemingly nothing, and a myriad of questions remained clear on her face as she strolled the somber grounds.
The dull tones and unimaginative passageways made the trek throughout it loathsome, with the entire palace appearing as if it had been dipped into a vat of pure gray and rust. The only things that stood out were the crimson rugs that lined the floors, embellished with lavish, tempered gold trims. The tassels of these rugs brushed against vast bevies of chipped ceramicware that had been strewn about the floor, highlighting the only scraps she had any luck finding. Everything that Zelda had seen within the palace confines looked to be of poor quality–an ancient scattering of obsolete goods that no longer possessed liveliness or glamor.
However, despite the mediocre scenery, one notable feature continued to spark wonderment amid her scrutiny. Certain areas were specifically built to showcase their transparent lack of walls in all directions, leaving only a scattering of flimsy tiles beneath her feet, and the endless flush of sky everywhere she looked. The whirling air was left free to squander her stunned breath, and the eternally cloudy, blustery backdrop forged a palpable mixture of anxiety and tension in her core. It delivered a harrowing reminder on the heel of each cautious step she took; knowing that any wrong turn or misplaced gust of wind could lead to an untimely, fatal fall.
As she explored, Zelda would occasionally find herself stumbling over misshapen and indented claw marks, besmirching patches of ground and thick rugs alike. The first time she had come into contact with these marks, she had stopped to examine their odd structure. Each gash was astonishingly thick and considerably spaced out. She visualized a monstrous talon that had scooped away the stone as though it were nothing more than malleable silt, causing fear to harden her heart. Even with her wealth of knowledge and the scraps of information that Link had divulged to her long ago, she'd been unable to put her finger on any monsters in Hyrule that could perform such a feat. Her imagination simply ran wild at that worrisome prospect. Was there some mystical beast–aside from Vaati's Transfigured form, she supposed–that had been unleashed and set free in the Palace of Winds? Is that why Vaati had pushed for her to meander around the desolate palace grounds? To have her fall victim to a brutal attack as just another way to torment her?
Despite those strange sightings, though, Zelda had yet to come across any real monsters during her short trek.
At least, not yet.
She couldn't deny that the possibility certainly worried her. Without her bow, any of the tools Master Smith had lent her, or the ability to freely use her light magic–as it had seemed–she felt sorely unprepared and saddled by trepidation.
Regardless, she had to trudge ahead. She reminded herself not to allow these deep-seated fears to seep through the cracks of her skin and transfer onto her capricious features while she was lost in the whirling air, imprisoned by her greatest enemy. Instead, she tried to focus on the sprinkling of positives that had occurred in the time she'd been exploring. For one, her all-consuming delirium had faded somewhat, and the throbbing in her head had subsided to only a dull ache. The earlier confusion and missing gaps of knowledge that had bubbled up during her scuffle with Vaati had melded into clarity, having been replaced by the grainy words that Siroc had spoken not long ago: "Once the Wind Tribe took to the skies, so, too, did the Wind Element. It was transported; placed securely in hiding and left to dwell within the Palace of Winds, safe with its people".
With those words resounding in her head and propelling the rhythm of her steps forward, a fiery revelation quickly lit within Zelda. This was the domain she'd formerly been scheming to reach and yearning to explore. The ever-mysterious and perpetually roaming stronghold that shielded the enchanting Wind Element within its walls–the Palace of Winds!
Granted, when she had initially envisioned herself above the rolling clouds, she'd imagined a thin smile pouring over her face, a neat shoulder bag crammed to its gills and held firm in her grip, her posture forced high and taut. She'd imagined the morning sun roosted at an even level to her sparkling eyes, a gentle breeze unsticking tendrils of blonde hair from her dewy cheeks as she prepared herself for yet another unknown adventure.
She certainly hadn't envisioned herself… like this! Kidnapped, leashed against a blighted stump, completely empty-handed with only a hazy idea in tow and the deceiving promise of freedom swaying before her. She was weaponless, magicless, and worse yet, alone. Everything had gone awry before it even had a chance to unfold, and now, she was truly suffering for it.
Regardless, she was still in the Palace of Winds, although the circumstances surrounding her expedition weren't ideal. She resolved to do everything within her power to uncover any items or equipment she needed in order to escape. If she was lucky, she would be able to disentomb the Wind Element in the process, returning it back to solid land and marching even closer to the finish line stretched before the perilous journey she had embarked upon.
She would still need to find the Earth Element, but at least she would have an extra foot pitched forward in her effort to free Link. It wasn't enough–Zelda knew with every passing second that what she was doing still wasn't enough, not with time running as close to the wire as it was… but it was all she could do. She refused to stand idle and bide the inevitable demise of her independence while it was still narrowly in her grasp.
She wasn't going to go down without a fight, either.
These thoughts drove her forward as she passed another mess of smashed pottery, its trove of scattered pieces forlorn and withdrawn beside an unguarded edge. Yet, this time, her steps stilled as her eye caught something akin to a sword's hilt protruding out of the scrap. She squinted, dipping her head forward to examine it closer, and then moved toward the pile uneasily. Next to it, Zelda was assured that she was staring down at the hilt of a sword, albeit a very dingy one. A lukewarm smile spread across her face as she eagerly gripped it in her hands, hardly paying mind to its weathered feel or the distinct squeak that bounded into the air upon doing so.
The sword rose from the ceramic sea, with discarded pottery and green rupees hitting the ground like a hailstorm. Her excitement mounted, the tune of ringing metal sounding like Hyrule's greatest serenade to her ears…
But as she fully examined her new spoil, a frown eclipsed her expression. The sword was unremarkable and fully tarnished, with chunks of metal missing from its short blade. Dry leather was braided around the handle that she held, crumbling and wrinkling at her touch, and the sculpted tip appeared too dull to even slice through a warm pad of butter.
It was utterly hideous; a laughably unusable excuse for a sword… but, it was also the only weapon Zelda had even come close to extricating so far. She clutched its wheezing hilt in her untrained hold, reluctantly assigning it to the slot of her sole traveling companion. It'll have to do for now, she internally renounced, a bitter sigh rolling past her lips.
She hoisted herself back into a standing position, her newly acquired weapon dangling awkwardly by her side. I have to keep searching, she haplessly thought, her gaze hooked onto the dwindling light of the world around her. As the sun dipped beyond her sight, she was blown away by the muddle of colors that suffused the sky in a strange mixture. A deep amber glow pierced through the blanket of clouds below, which steadily gave way to a bright, bloody red. That ominous flush lightened into a pink, and then a quiet blue, until eventually surrendering itself to a hazy lavender: the final thread of pure sunlight. It doesn't seem like much light will be left to guide me soon enough, and this… 'sword' hardly counts as a victory.
Zelda continued forward on her unguided journey, barreling into yet another one of the many empty, lookalike hallways she'd passed through prior. Her footsteps slinked listlessly across the plush rug that lined the floor, and as she moved, she studied any odd fractures or hidden rifts that crossed her path.
In every corner of her vision, the crisp blanket of sky grew darker and darker, morphing into a cast of robust purple that reminded her of the lush mulberry wine she'd seen served at royal Hyrulian events in the past. Here, though, instead of providing comfort and eliciting jubilation with its nectar, the ever-quickening approach of night caused her footsteps to drag and her body to grow weary, feeling heavier and heavier. The crushing weight of every sleepless excursion she had endured until now crept uncomfortably into the ligaments between her bones. Her thoughts began to alternate relentlessly on the countless options laid before her. Should she retire for the night; accept the mangled sword she'd found as her lone spoil and slither back into the cotton mattress she'd dug herself out of initially? Is that what Vaati wanted her to do, though? Would she even be able to find the bedroom she'd awoken in at this rate? And even if she did, could she afford to sleep? She needed to find her way out of here, quickly. There were only two days left until the Picori Festival, after all, and she still didn't know what Vaati was planning…
The thin pathway she roamed across took a sharp left, veering into a small, structured room. Aged tiles lined the bulk of the flooring she saw, complete with mounds of pale soot and dust scattered atop the more delicate-looking sections. Directly ahead, a large, shabby door stood in waiting. Silver-embellished chains were secured on its front in a fiercely pronounced 'X', blocking most of the wood paneling from view. Beside it, there was a pathway near the right that was tucked away in the corner, and opposite that, the room bled into a yawning drop-off.
As she studied the door, memories of her excursion in Mt. Crenel's mine shuffled through her mind. She easily recalled those interchangeable chains bundled against every auspicious entryway she came across. Those metallic bindings, as inconvenient as they were huge, served the purpose of dissuading anyone from even attempting to slink past them. In truth, those aspects only made Zelda's curiosity stretch, and it pulled her forward with determined reverie.
However, her trance was broken just as quickly. She felt a tile beneath her foot falter, causing her weight to sink. Frantically, she craned her head downward. Chalky debris scattered upward in a puff, and a web of thick, inky fractures exploded atop the surface of the tile she stood upon. Her eyes widened and her muscles tensed, a gasp lodging itself in her throat.
She maneuvered backward on shaky legs, retracing the first few steps she'd taken into the room. Safe by the entrance, she watched in horror as the tile she'd stepped on moments prior wobbled in place, sputtered a dissonant crackling tune, and then sunk into the infinite sky below, perishing into a rain of severed pieces.
Ages seemed to pass as she stood in place, oil-blue eyes anchored to the now perfectly square hole in the ground right where she had been. She couldn't head back, though; this door might lead her to the answers she sought, or potentially hold a valuable clue for her escape.
An idea struck her, then. Stiffly, she toted the sword she'd dredged up in front of herself, its blunt tip scraping against the floor. She forcefully struck each tile with the weapon, step after step, watching as chunks of the floor broke apart and tumbled downward with little more than a faltering whine. A stable path gradually formed, and she allowed the muscles in her jaw to relax at the sight. There was still a way forward.
She maneuvered across the sturdier tiles that stayed afloat, grateful that the sword had turned out to be useful after all. Without it, she could only imagine that it might have been herself tumbling to her demise, and not just broken chips of rock. She grimaced at the thought of plummeting into the starry depths, caught between a broken slab of flooring and the inevitable crust of land that awaited at the end.
As she finished crossing the room, the hammering of her heart stilled as the ground became thicker and sturdier by the edge of the mysterious door. Her body eased into a sanctum of restfulness, and she lazily brought the sword back to her side, a sigh of relief slipping past her lips. From here, she began studiously inspecting the metal and wood of the door before her; scanning each indent and tapered scratch that defaced its surface, as well as the bulky construction of the framework that supported it. Her eyes briefly darted to the sword that hung loosely in her tired hand, the prospect of shimmying it under the gap at the bottom of the door fluttering to the forefront of her mind. However, she quickly scrapped the idea, figuring that the sword's blade would likely split in half if she tried to use it to lever the door open.
Still, she pondered, her gaze now glued to the bottom of the door, I wonder if I can see what's inside some other way. In a moment of rash curiosity, she dropped to her knees, pressing her eye against the gap. It was hardly an inch, forcing her to squint terribly just to block out the tiles and roughhewn doorframe that swallowed most of her sight. Her vision gradually sharpened against the backdrop of nothingness, primed to pick up any noticeable sparks of light beyond the shadowed abyss that lay in front of her.
At first, all she could see were negligible swatches of black. For a moment, that was all that truly seemed to be stowed beyond the door–just a cold, inky hollowness. Yet, the longer she maintained her hunched posture, the more she swore she could see a faint glow slowly come into focus. The colors of jet green and muddled purple harmonized together, swirling beyond the stocky barrier that prevented her from peeking any closer inside. The tones were seeped in dullness and utter obscurity, and yet, somehow entirely too familiar and bright.
Is my vision playing tricks on me? Hurried images of the Fire Element and Water Element's overwhelming, illuminated presence surfaced in her mind. The sight of a red much too bright and undiluted, scrunched next to a blue more vibrant than the oceanic depths of Lake Hylia and just as breathtaking shuttered the gnawing thoughts she had.
There was no doubt.
A quiet gasp tumbled from Zelda's lips, her ears twitching subconsciously. Could that really be…?
Before she could even digest the revelation, a sudden, gurgling howl rent the unbroken atmosphere, filling the cramped space with echoes of its rippling cry.
Zelda shrieked, all but masking the horrifying noise. An overwhelming surge of panic swelled throughout her body, with adrenaline weakly pulling her from her crouched position and onto the soles of her feet. Feverishly, she cast her eyes around the tight-knit area, her hand absentmindedly tensing around the frayed leather of the sword's hilt. A distorted, shadowed mass approached from the pathway shouldered to her right, its movements stiff and unnatural. That definitely wasn't there earlier, she thought nervously. Her brows knit together as she raked her gaze over the curdled darkness.
Slowly, faint smears of scarlet became visible, unevenly clustered against the black backdrop. Zelda could feel her blood pounding in her ears, icy terror constricting her heart. Transfixed, she stood in place as the shadowed mass seemed to expand, blockading the pathway it poured out from. Dark, spindly lines and forked contours sharpened into view, converging together until the thing emerged into the room. She squinted, quickly taken aback by the sight of not just one strange monster, but a flock of monsters trickling in. Moonlight bounced off of each of their exposed figures, and her breath hitched in her throat at the sight.
They lacked flesh of any kind, hobbling forward on only thin, bony legs. Rings of burning red light clung to their joints, coating their hands and feet and contrasting with their empty eye sockets, which were sloped downward in barren hostility. Short claws protruded where fingers should have been, a gaping hole was fashioned on their face where a nose should have been, and their jaws were uselessly held open, occasionally snapping closed and emitting a repulsive crack.
It frightened Zelda that there wasn't any evidence of their once-beating organs. Even as they were now, these monsters appeared almost… Hylian in stature, in the way they were held together at their bony seams. That mental connection made an unrestrained chill climb her spine.
As she watched them slink forward, bones chittering and clattering together as they went, the burning realization of what these monsters were dawned on her. Stalfos, she horridly thought. From the hours upon hours of stale royal lessons she'd been forced to take, along with Link's fantastical retelling of his adventure, she was almost certain that was what these horrific monsters were.
She glanced at the sword in her hand, blinking away any remaining doubt. Given the shape that it was in, she knew it would be better suited as a club. There was absolutely no way for her to use it as a proper sword, even if she tried. Stalfos are pure bone. In theory, their bodies should shatter if hit with enough force, she considered. I can only pray that this sword doesn't shatter first, though.
Amateurishly, she brandished the steel blade with both hands, twisting her expression into one of false confidence. A bite of conviction colored her tone as she muttered, "You don't scare me." Drawing in a breath, she gathered every remaining scrap of strength she could muster before doling out her first swing at the nearest Stalfos' skull. Her arms felt heavy with the airborne weight of steel, and her close-range position was surely off-center and imprecise, yet even still…
A grisly crack resonated throughout the room as tarnished metal collided with bone. Surprise sprung onto Zelda's features as she glanced at the blade in her hands, finding that it had miraculously stayed intact. Immediately, she realized that the noise had come from the Stalfos instead, its skull having been cleanly sundered from its neckbone. She blanched as she faced the sight of its headless body, a pillar of jagged bone jutting up where its head had been only moments prior. From the corner of her vision, movement caught her attention, and she turned her head to find the Stalfos' lone skull barrelling across the floor. It rolled over flimsy tiles and lifted particles of dust and debris in its wake. A hollow thunk hit her ears as it finally crashed into the opposite wall, a web of paper-thin cracks prominent on its entire surface.
She couldn't hold back the satisfied grin that snuck onto her face–imbued with the swelling realization of her triumphant feat–as she directed her enthusiasm toward the rest of the creeping Stalfos. I'm lucky the sword didn't break… I guess Link's influence has certainly proved useful after all, she mused, noting a trivial, bristly pinch that burned her shoulder from the brief scrimmage.
Her success was short-lived, though. All too soon, a towering shadow appeared behind the remaining Stalfos, moving forward at a terrifyingly deliberate pace. Zelda's smile faltered as the approaching form slipped between open blotches of space, emerging from the narrow depths of the pathway. A single, willowy ribbon of moonlight illuminated its features as it moved, and Zelda could see that this enemy was not only enormous, but was also fully cloaked in thick plates of polished gold armor. A clear-cut vent in the center of its helmet revealed beaming red eyes that seeped beyond the darkness and glowered down at her. It carried a red buckler and dragged behind it a massive, spiked ball-and-chain weapon, held firm in the beast's grip by a stocky handle connected to a jangling chain.
Its weapon cleaved away pristine clumps of ground with each heavy stride, carving wide gashes into the sturdier tiles that managed to stay afloat whilst stamping droves of thinner tiles downward to their earthly demise. The deep grooves left in the weapon's wake struck a chord of vague familiarity in Zelda. She scrunched her eyebrows in concentration; carefully searching her memories. In seconds, she elicited a strangled gasp, a sudden thorn of fear splintering between her veins. When I was investigating the palace earlier, those markings I saw weren't claw marks at all, she hastily remarked. Those gashes must have come from this Ball and Chain Soldier's weapon; trailing its movements just like it's doing now.
There was hardly any time for her to chew over that revelation, though, as the Ball and Chain Soldier's unsettling eyes fixed directly on her, burning a hole through her with its unblinking stare. Every chilling noise–the rattle of bone, the howl of wind–seemed to taper into a dull thrum as the beast wordlessly cocked its head to the side and widened its stance. It effortlessly slung the spiked ball of its weapon into the air, and she watched as it almost seemed frozen in stasis, suspended by dull strings. Without a pause, the Ball and Chain Soldier brazenly whisked the handle above its head, and the spiked ball began to twirl in a crooked circle around it on command. It steadily gained more and more momentum in the air, traveling at a pace she could hardly keep track of. Then, in one abrupt motion, its hand slid to a higher section of the chain, pulled back, and hurled its weapon straight at her.
She went rigid, her vision rapidly consumed by the growing, deadly outline of the gargantuan spiked ball. A fleeting thought of Link surfaced in her mind, and with it, she moved on impulse. She ducked, scrunched into herself, and wildly rolled to the side, her whole body stiff and fatigued. She heard the clay tiles clink beneath her as she staggered to a stop, the sound quickly overshadowed by a deafening thud that slammed into the ground beside her at the same moment, ringing between her ears.
She cracked an eye open, straining for sight through a haze of unsettled soot. She saw the heavy outline of the Ball and Chain Soldier's weapon beside her, hooked into the flimsy ground. It had only just missed her. Most of the tiles surrounding the impact had collapsed, and the few remaining looked far worse for wear; splintered pieces protruded in all directions, and deep scratches blemished the floor.
Covering a dry cough with her arm, she poked out her free hand to circle the ground around her, attempting to map out her new position. Her stomach sank as she felt the rough grain of the tiled floor give way to nothingness, her hand floundering uselessly in the open air. I'm right by the ledge, she thought. She turned her head, confirming her fear as she stared down the endless sky.
Dread now nipped at her skin, rocketing a coarse shudder between her spine and her skull. If one of the Stalfos so much as pushed her, or the Ball and Chain Soldier swung its weapon at her again, she'd definitely fall off of the palace. But there was nowhere for her to move. As the gaggle of Stalfos closed in, she was effectively trapped in that spot. She blanched, watching as the Ball and Chain Soldier dragged the spiked ball back toward itself, threading through a line of Stalfos and scoring the floor as it did so. So much strength had been compressed into that single throw, Zelda didn't even want to think about what would've happened to her had she not instinctively rolled out of the way on time.
She stood halfheartedly, dusting off her disheveled clothes. Before she could even catch her breath, an unusual, sickening rattle emanated nearby. She quickly tensed again. The sound grew, reminding her of the horrid crunch of bone or freshly shattered glass. Except, it sounded more frenetic than that. More ominous. With dust-clouded vision, she examined her surroundings, hastily searching for its source…
But she was too late.
The rattling amplified into an abrasive hum, overtaking the meager space. She raked her eyes across the room in a desperate hunt, finding only flecks of dust and gray walls and navy sky. That quickly changed as a dense object came into view, whirling toward her at a breakneck pace. A row of solid teeth and pitch-black sockets stood out to her, and as she recognized the tinge of yellow-white bone marred by interlacing fractures, she realized with dread what it was.
A loose, airborne skull. Flying directly at her.
Her eyes slammed shut right as the skull crashed into her face, followed by a revolting crack that bit into the air. She felt its sharp teeth graze the hollow beneath her eye and an instant burst of pressure seeped onto her skin from the impact, banishing any crumb of thought that filtered through her brain.
Zelda could hardly register the chaos that followed. She'd been struck headlong, completely knocked back. Faintly, she heard the apologetic howl of the sword she'd been holding kiss the ground, her palm having unfurled from its ironclad grip. A sour cry bubbled up her throat, but she hardly registered the desperate sound as her own. It was only as she felt the cold wind pucker beneath her, whipping her knotted hair into a long sheet above her head, that she realized she was falling.
Her hands shot into the air, senselessly clawing at the sky as if there was some invisible ledge she could dig her fingers into. Panic rose, lodged in her throat like bile. A thick weight felt as if it had settled atop her, pushing her further and further down at greater speeds. Her body began to feel impossibly heavy, but she knew there still had to be a long, empty stretch left ahead of her. How much longer did she have to fall? How high up was the Palace of Winds?
Without warning, her back slammed into something flat and dense, all of her speed curbed. She let out a soft grunt, her breath squashed from her lungs. From wherever she had landed, she could just barely make out a blanket of clouds dappling the sky beneath her, with no hint of land in sight. Where… am I? I can't have hit the ground yet, she thought, groggy. Her shoulders stung from the harsh impact, and it was as she went to move her hands to massage the aching joints that she realized… her limbs wouldn't budge whatsoever.
A cold sweat cocooned her body. Why couldn't she move? It struck her, then, just how uncomfortable she was–tangled in the darkened sky like a miserable, dejected ragdoll. Maybe she was caught on the surface of a dense cloud? Link had told her stories of his adventure navigating the Cloud Tops, after all; even describing moments where his boots had sunk into loose pockets of the clouds he traversed, yet never fully fell through. That would make sense, considering the Palace of Winds was presumably somewhere near the Cloud Tops.
Still, that wouldn't explain why she couldn't move. She frowned. At least she could still do that.
Suddenly, the strange platform she had landed on began to shoot upward. Her body flattened against it, with gusts of pale wind stretching down her skin. She turned her head, trying to determine what she was fastened to–but it seemed to be of no use. Beneath her, she could see a glimmer of red and amber light intertwined together if she strained her eyes, but there was nothing else in sight. Wait. That looks like… magic…?
She was flung back onto the anchored ground almost immediately. Back onto the Palace of Winds. She landed with her palms pressed against the coolness of the floor, her spine curved into the shape of a weathered boomerang.
All of her momentum stuttered to a heavy stop. Drenched in quietness, her eyes hesitantly peeled open. The world spun into color as Zelda cautiously peered around, noting that she was in the same room with her back now angled against the corridor she had initially entered from, mere inches from a cluster of thin, rotting tiles. There was a decent scrap of space between herself and the imminently approaching monsters, dispensing her with a much-needed interlude to recollect her bearings. She was in awe–though not quite surprised–at just how far she had been flung from her original position.
Or rather, pushed off and then yanked back, she supposed.
How did I… how did I not fall off? She glanced to her side, staring into the sky's limitless mesh of navy and gold. Her pupils dilated, and a sickening knot of panic bunched in her core. I was right by the edge. I know I fell off; I felt it… so, how can I be back here?
Her stomach churned from the off-and-on tumultuous motions she had endured, even more so as she finally caught her breath and felt the familiar, caustic burn of a fresh wound spoiling her face. It howled above her cheekbone, drumming hot lava through her weeping veins. Her hand flew up to cup the deep gash beneath her eye, wincing at the bruising pressure that followed.
She settled her vision forward, longing to take her mind off of the scorching sting that branded her skin and the confusing slew of questions regarding her displacement. She watched the monsters march toward her, the armor-clad giant in the lead. The moon had risen high above the Palace of Winds, its cratered surface casting ribbons of gleaming argent light across the room and granting her a clearer view of her surroundings.
Amongst the silver armor, piercing red eyes, and white bone marrow that she drank in, she saw a strange glimmer of crimson so deep that it almost appeared black. She narrowed her eyes at the sight, watching a pool of blood–her blood, she realized in horror–drip from the jaw of a lone Stalfos, who stood tall amongst the pack with a crooked head lodged atop its slanted shoulders. The Stalfos seemed to notice her frightened expression, as it suddenly gripped its head with its jagged, bony hands and swiftly cracked its skull to the side, recentering it. A tinge of amusement seemed to broadcast from its hollow eye sockets, which were sloped ever so slightly in the best sneer it could attempt. All Zelda could do was watch as a trickle of her viscous blood wept from the corner of its jaw, splashing against its open ribcage before oozing onto the ground below.
Her forehead wrinkled in disdain, all of her earlier adrenaline returning in full force.
She hoisted her body to a stand, hearing her bones fizzle and pop from the strain. Hunching over slightly, she pressed her cold, clammy palms onto her knees before scanning the room again. A rough idea formed in her mind as she glanced at the locked door taunting her from across the room, at her mostly-just-scrap-metal sword abandoned on the floor inches away, and at the monsters closing in on her. She could just dart out of the room and head backward–she was right by the exit pathway, after all–but she could also try to use her foes' stronger suits to her advantage. Visions of reflective, shining green and purple clouded her mind, convincing her.
She promised herself that she wouldn't give up without a fight, after all.
She closed her eyes for one final moment, sucking in a brittle shred of air to center herself. Then, just as quickly, her eyes snapped open again, hooking her determined glare onto the red orbs of the towering Ball and Chain Soldier that loomed before her. It glared back at her, challenging her. As if prompted, its metallic footsteps came to a screeching halt. Zelda quirked an eyebrow at the peculiar display, wondering if it had decided to retreat, before it quickly hefted the handle of its weapon into the air–straight above its head, letting the sharp, spiked ball hang just above its feet. Its wrist twirled in hulking circles, poised and adept as if it were parading a deadly ribbon in some demented play. It slung the barbed weapon around itself with a fierce buzz, consuming the atmosphere with fervor.
Zelda's skin paled, with tacky, slimy trails of fear slinking across her body. Of course this couldn't be easy.
Keeping her head low to the ground, she bolted forward, calling upon her many, many lessons in defense, combat rehearsal, and agility to guide her from harm's way. With her feet teetering atop the stable pathway she'd carved out earlier, she dashed underneath the swinging, swirling madness of the Ball and Chain Soldier's weapon. Each frightful loop that the weapon completed added to Zelda's growing apprehension; the whirring hiss of crisp metal singeing the air above her.
In almost no time, she closed in on the sword she'd discarded–a cornerstone in her frantic scheme. She pressed a rogue hand to the ground and pulled it up urgently. Once steadied, she squeezed it in her grasp, a determined smile blossoming on her face. One down, she privately cheered, now beelining to the locked door.
As she ran, skeletal limbs jutted out from the sidelines, scraping against each other in a crude attempt to grab at her. Loose threads from her muddied and frayed dress were tugged, yanked by the Stalfos' cadaverous hands, and Zelda automatically lifted the sword she held in front of her body as her last string of defense. She refrained from slamming her eyes shut in fear, instead maneuvering the blade across her body in order to fend off the greedy Stalfos. She cringed as she tore past them, using the sword to bat away the wayward, claw-like fingers primed to rip at her flesh. They weren't deterred, though, still mindlessly reaching for her; ever hungry and yearning for pure, malefic destruction. Afraid, yet ever diligent, she plowed ahead, hope creasing her tattered shoes. Finally, after pushing through the gaggle of Stalfos, she reached the door, pressing against it as her mind pooled in a sea of quiet victory.
She turned around, panting with effort, and her gaze immediately drew toward the viscous, imposing beast once again. Rage swirled behind the glass windows of her eyes, building and churning and daring as she watched its weapon scrape against the walls above her. She held the sword up in a loose diagonal pattern across her body, using it mostly as an unwonted target, but also as a strip of meager protection. Link had taught her how to guard herself with just a sword once, years ago. The fleeting image of that sun-warmed memory made a thin smile weave across her face, but the chaotic reality of her current situation erased it just as quickly as it had appeared.
Zelda kept her sights pinned on the Ball and Chain Soldier beyond the crowd of encroaching Stalfos, tracing each lap its weapon completed with her eyes, trying to parse out the exact moment that it planned to strike. If it was going to strike. Her entire plan hinged on it attacking her and taking the neatly laid-out bait she had offered up: herself. Now, she could only hope that it would follow through with that, and that her entire plan would go off without a hitch. She didn't want to dwell on the potential of failure at this point in time.
Several uncomfortable seconds passed in that state, with the Ball and Chain Soldier swinging its weapon freely and Zelda observing–restless–as if she were a concrete statue. Like Link is now… or like I had been, all of those years ago, she reflected. The group of Stalfos' had continued to close in on her, creeping forward with little care. If the armor-clad beast didn't swing its weapon soon, she'd have to abandon the singular hope she'd cultivated. She'd have to run with nothing to show for any of this.
But then, finally, it did happen.
It happened so suddenly that Zelda hardly had any time to react. The Ball and Chain Soldier's weapon bobbed behind its head as it completed another airborne lap, and then, instead of spinning further, it merely launched forward. In a wobbly flash, the spiked ball was barreling toward her, propelled on the reins of invisible lightning.
Her mind solidified and then burst, scrambling into pieces. Too slow, she fumbled out of the way, pressing herself into the open pathway where the monsters had first poured out from. The din of clattering bones picked up immediately, with crack after crack leaking into the air from Stalfos that obstructed the weapon's pathway. She heard the spiked ball whirl just past her cheek, her ears rapidly clogged by the sound of shattering bone and whistling metal before a denser, chalkier clang thundered in the room, signifying the sweet sound of steel colliding with wood. Or, at first, Zelda had thought the noise had arisen from steel colliding with wood, but as she peered closer at the door, she was taken aback. There looked to be a faint, shimmering sheet that blocked it, with waves of purple, red, and gold rippling across it in an intricate and indistinct pattern. She couldn't examine it further than that, though, as she was forced to squeeze her eyes shut and turn her head away, fending off the invasion of airborne debris.
A still beat followed, with Zelda soaking in the chaotic rush of events. Her ears rang, and her arms felt like boiled fruit preserves; jammy and smelted together. Opening her eyes, dust particles sprinkled her vision, clogging her nose and scraping against her throat. She sputtered a dry cough, and her arm shot up on impulse to cover her mouth.
Through the smog of chittering debris, she quickly scanned the room. Piles of yellowing, chipped bones from the Stalfos were scattered everywhere, with some even tumbling off of the open edge and sinking into the sky far below. A large chunk of tiles had been broken, with the floor more closely resembling a bizarre chessboard now. Deep, thick cracks blemished the few walls in the room, illuminated by the leftover Stalfos joints strewn about; unmoving, yet somehow still emitting a bright, glowing apple-red hue. Frowning, her attention turned to the door that the Ball and Chain Soldier had struck, exactly as planned. However, as she'd feared, she didn't see caved-in wood rife with splinters, or black-tinged steel lining the ground. Instead, she was met with the sight of an unblemished, albeit still run-down, door.
That strange magic I saw protected it, she quickly realized. With her stomach in knots, she moved to examine the door further, intent on weeding out any possible weaknesses she could exploit. Without a shadow of a doubt, the remaining Elements had to have been imprisoned in the room that lay just beyond. There would be no other reason for a magic barrier to have been conjured, protecting the door from harm's way. Now, more than ever, Zelda was spurred on to find a way into that room.
As she inspected the large, silver-plated lock, she caught a pathetic glimpse of her warped reflection on its surface, stealing her breath. She looked even more wild than she'd imagined, with her hair tangled and clumped with bits of dirt, and her skin dull, sallow, lifeless. The cut she'd sustained earlier looked much angrier than she'd expected, perched beneath her left eye and pooling sticky, deep blood in its place.
But her expression was the worst. She wore defeat and despair in her eyes, as if her fate had already been sealed.
As if she had already given up.
Her eyebrows knit together, disgust venomously on her tongue. She straightened her posture and dusted off her dress, hastily peeling her gaze away from the reflection she saw.
The sudden sharp, familiar whirr of steel whisking the air caught Zelda's attention, and she looked up from the internal fog she'd been tangled in, catching sight of that persistent Ball and Chain Soldier twirling its weapon again. Its ruddy glare locked unblinkingly onto her, challenging her a second time, and her heart sunk into the bowels of her chest.
A strange and heavy frustration suddenly weighed her down, and a rush of blistering tears swelled above her bottom lashes, infused with all of the failure and misery and suffering she had endured. Every encounter she reflected upon burned at the frail wisp of sanity she still had left, frantically raising a wave of exasperation to the surface of her mind. Vaati's escape from the Four Sword and Link's stone-encrusted state that had started this tireless quest. Her continued lack of sleep. The stress from planning the Picori Festival; the stress bestowed to her by her father and her kingdom's people. 'Rorro's' grand reveal and subsequent betrayal. Getting kidnapped. Incurring injury after injury. Vaati's wicked scheming.
Everything boiled over all at once, and she succumbed to the feeling of helplessness, branding her with crippling dolor.
Zelda flicked her watery gaze from the state of the room laid before her, to the armor-clad beast that swung its deadly weapon, to the still-standing, locked door. What is there even left for me to do? she thought, brooding. I've exhausted all of my options.
Uttering a miserable sigh, she chucked the sword she'd been holding onto the ground without a second thought, its tinny whine warbling a hymn of concession. I've no need for this anymore. It's just a reminder of my failure, she thought, surrendering a final glare to the weapon as it clattered against the remaining tiles. It was silent after a moment, lying defeated beneath the dappling moonlight.
She turned around in one smooth motion, the edge of her frayed dress swinging in a crooked circle around her. Before the Ball and Chain Soldier's heavyset weapon could be hurled in her direction a third time, clobbering her, she dashed into the caressing shadows of the unfamiliar pathway, a trail of dirt-smudged tears hailing silently in her wake.