Author's note: this chapter was heavily condensed to keep the pace going, but I took a little more time to refine our (and Link's) first look upon Hyrule and to add a little more human life to it in the form of villages and farmsteads after I went through the tedious work of calculating realistic demographics, which I know I should have done 8 years ago when I wrote this :P I am also focusing heavily on an increased monster population and especially on Shadow Beasts and the danger they pose, to showcase more the physical growth Link has to go through. I never stop learning with this story and improving upon it.
When I first wrote these lines back in the day, Breath of the Wild had just come out and had filled me with teenage wonder at the sheer size and detail of it, which I had tried to capture in this chapter. Back then, this was the height of my writing skill; it is funny and interesting to compare it to now, and how much more I've grown and learned about the craft.
Chapter 12
Of all the dreams he'd had of Hyrule in the past, of how his woodsman's mind had tried to imagine what Hyrule Field would look like, not one of them could have possibly illustrated the scenery Link was regaled with.
"By all the gods in the world…" he breathed as he sat astride Padraig atop the very last of Faron's hills, a veritable ocean of grass stretching out before him.
The young sunlight glowing in the east shone upon wallowing meadows and pastures, creating vogues of gold that heaved up and down in a rhythm known only to the mysterious conductor presiding over this spectacle. Winding through the dancing verdure, the road continued down the hill, curving, rising, and falling with the land as if carried and swept along by the soil to discover the wonders hidden in the distance ahead. A little creek broke its path but was tricked by a bridge that joined the landscape, bathed in the long shadows of swaying willows and blossoming cherry trees that stood watch at either side.
Sprinkled about the countryside, thatch rooftops formed man-made deposits amidst patches of tilled land. He heard cow bells jingling and found the animals, as he swept his gaze further afield, grazing in the wilderness unsupervised like their undomesticated ancestors aeons before.
Hills and mountains of a washed-out grey lay in the distance, battling against the lingering mists that tried to erase them from sight. Breaking the horizon, a single lone peak, due north and too uniform to be natural, rose into the sky and contrasted with the wild calm of the landscape.
Squinting to make out what it signified, Link hummed in recognition as he realised it was the tallest and mightiest of Hyrule Castle's towers, standing like a faded piece of decor in the background as if refusing to be forgotten. Seeing it there, still struggling to stay upright while Twilight devoured everything around it, was like bearing witness to a lone soldier surrounded by the enemy, not giving up on hope be it as small as a dagger in his hand and a glimmer of courage in his heart. As long as there was one man fighting…
"Are you done staring?" his companion's voice rose from beneath Padraig's hooves and yanked Link out of his thoughts.
With a terrified scream the stallion backed away in fright as she appeared in his line of sight, forcing Link to curl his feet around the horse's unsaddled belly; riding with only a blanket was certainly not ideal.
"Woah, Padraig, calm down," he soothed, glaring at the smirking imp.
"Which wonderment are you taking in so intently?" she asked with a nasty undertone. "The sweet copper glow in the west, or the orange brilliance shining to our east?"
She spread a hand at the unmistakable stigma that had blemished his first look upon Hyrule; like an oncoming storm that refused to come closer, Twilight towered and shimmered like a cloud spanning the horizon, stopping short where Faron's light held it at bay. While the top was of a bright orange lined with silver, the lower part was black as coal smoke and swallowed everything in its path. The field stretching before him contrasted heavily with the darkness in the background, augmenting his lingering headache induced by Midna's mere presence.
"You're no use to this land if you don't do your duty," she said before her voice became mischievous. "The Twilight is calling. Shall we unleash the beast once again?"
He looked at her hovering in front of him, and nodded silently. It was time to rid this wondrous land of its defilement.
With a click of his tongue, he sent the horse into a canter down the hill to join the sea of green foaming with gold. He did not look back at his companion.
The cool wind whipped at his face and lashed at his cloak, and he was glad for its woolly protection; spring was still chilly out in the open. Wide fields of hip-high grass stretched out at either side of him, whizzing by as he drove Padraig onward. The dread he felt as he approached the eastern Twilight cloud clashed with the exhilaration of racing across this seemingly endless stretch of flat, flower-sprinkled meadows.
But the enchantment was short-lived. This was invaded territory, and the evidence of it was, if not immediately apparent, explicit when stumbled upon.
Monsters roamed or sat gathered in small camps, snorting and gargling when they saw him ride by. He chose his battles carefully and engaged only when he had no choice. Bokoblins, which were much weaker than their larger kin, posed little threat to him now, but whenever he glimpsed a pack of Bulblins marching in the wild, bows nocked and ready, he gave them a wide berth. His greatest worry, however, was the few Shadow Beasts that shuffled in solitude through the countryside. It was much easier to fight them in wolf form, and his bow was lost. Padraig was, thankfully, fast enough to outrun them, and whenever he glimpsed another coal-black silhouette soiling the radiant green turn towards him, he bolted in the opposite direction until it was no longer in sight.
He passed several abandoned villages and even skirted a larger settlement encircled by a palisade, a charred church tower visible behind it. Several cow carcasses lay half-devoured in the high grass. The absence of human life was oppressing. Nothing but stray cattle remained in the wake of the invasion's devastating passage through the once-settled parts of the land.
Worst of all were the bodies. Most were monsters, felled by unknown hands and left to rot by the wayside, but Link did not fool himself with hope when he glimpsed, strewn haphazardly among farmsteads and fields, human corpses twisted into gruesome heaps of cloth and flesh. It was, of course, not his first time seeing a slain body, but the brutality with which these people had been struck down made him queasy. His sense of duty quarrelled with him, demanding he pick up each body and bury it. Though he couldn't possibly take up the role of grave digger for them all, he spent some time—ignoring Midna's protests—sifting through the now lifeless houses to gather blankets which he spread over the cadavers, weighing the edges down with stones.
But when he blindly entered another house and was greeted with a wave of warmth so foul it made him retch, he lost his courage. The farmstead reeked with dried blood and decay, flies creating a buzzing tempest in the dark. He could barely make out an amorphous shape spread wide across the corner, bits and pieces of it scattered everywhere. He lingered just long enough to conclude it had once been human, and hurried back out into the field before his stomach lost its hold on his breakfast.
He knelt in the high grass a moment longer, stubbornly suppressing his youth's natural response to the imagery of the massacre. He wished, now more than ever, to be free of his skulking imp companion who observed impatiently from the shadows, if only to allow him a moment of peace for his grief.
She disagreed.
"I don't know what you expected, really," she grumbled in her annoying, high-pitched voice. "That's what war looks like. Casualties on every side. Life matters little to monsters, you should know that."
What does that say for Colin's safety, for his survival? Link thought bitterly, glaring at her. "I do know that."
"You seem to keep forgetting it."
"I'm just not used to this much violence."
She folded her arms crossly. "Then get used to it. Because this is hardly all you're gonna see."
"No, it won't be," he muttered, looking back at the ransacked village with a sinking heart.
He was numbed with relief that, in the little time he'd spent in the abandoned villages and the bodies therein, he'd not yet seen a felled child. But that didn't mean anything unless he searched every crack and crevice to be certain. The carnage, and Midna's pitiless comment, showcased and described what he'd still been too innocent, or too naive, to properly internalise: they were indeed at war. This was real, all of it. And he was smack in the middle.
He rested for the night in a cluster of oaks by the roadside, hidden from view but central enough to hear if he was approached. A well had been dug at the junction close by where he allowed Padraig to get his fill. He lit no fire and ate his evening meal cold, which suited him fine. He still had plenty of preserved fruit left over from Harish's storage.
As he was about to pack them away, he glimpsed Midna's shadowy form observing from afar.
"Do you really not eat anything?" he asked, extending a slice of dried apple.
She narrowed her eye. "I told you already, we evolved out of physical needs."
"I know, but… How do you live, then?"
The question was clearly taken as an insult, and for the remainder of the night he was soundly ignored.
When he awoke the next morning, he was startled by a large beak reaching across his field of vision. "Woah!" Bolting up, he groped for his sword.
But the beak was made of stone, as was the rest of the imposing bird-like statue it belonged to, which he had unconsciously moved closer to in his sleep and not noticed in the dark. Link studied it, some of his despondency from the day before driven out by the discovery. An inscription was carved into the moss-covered, weathered pedestal but, regretfully, almost illegible.
"Something…between the… something… the heavens…" he read the Ancient Hylian words, and stepped back with a sigh, stumped, until his eyes fell once more on the bird, which looked uncannily familiar. "Hang on."
He fished out of his pack the only book he'd refused to leave behind, hero's journey be damned, and opened Hyrule Historia at an earlier page he'd dog-eared. His memory did not forsake him, and soon he saw the same shoe-billed bird drawn crudely on the page below a transcript of an old song, with a primitive tablature showing the notes as ink dots on five parallel lines.
"Leoð þæs Lyftwinge," he read. "The Ballad of the… loft wing?"
"You mean the Ballad of the Fool who took too long and the entire world was once more engulfed in Twilight?" Midna called angrily, startling Padraig grazing in the back. "You do know it's steadily spreading, right?"
He clapped the book shut and sighed. "Right. Sorry."
As he secured the clasp of Padraig's saddle blanket, the trees in the grove shook with a sudden rustle. A flapping sound erupted in the foliage, growing closer. Link ducked under as a thud rang out beyond the treeline, followed by a loud, shrill screech.
Padraig whinnied and reared.
The creature cawed and started after the spooked horse, revealing wings coated with a thin membrane of blue skin like those of a bat. Long thin legs and razor-sharp claws raked the air and made a grab for Padraig's back. A dirty-yellow beak snapped at the horse and yanked a few tufts from its mane.
Link dashed forward and reached back blindly for his bow, but touched the wooden shield instead.
Bow dissolved in acid, he remembered with a grimace and drew Rusl's sword and Jaggle's shield instead. "Hey!" he called in an attempt to draw the monster's attention away from the stallion, when he noticed something abnormal: the bird creature wore leather gear and a cap over its small eyes. It had been used as a mount.
Different monster species are truly teaming up! he thought frantically, recalling Harold's teachings which had always claimed the opposite while he ducked under to evade a groping claw. The wings swirled up fallen oak leaves and made his hair flutter.
With it being airborne, he had no way of reaching it with his blade. He hurled a rock at it out of desperation and used the brief distraction to leap onto Padraig's back, sending the horse out into the open.
The sun was blocked by the bird monster's approach as it swooped overhead and disappeared into his blind spot. He snapped Padraig's reins to the side, but he had miscalculated the bird's position. It ploughed into them from the left and was wedged in place by his body. The claws grappled blindly and lodged in the saddlecloth and his tunic. In a panic, Link slid sideways just enough to keep his balance and brought up his sword, finally meeting the soft flesh of its underbelly. Blood sprayed in his face and covered Padraig's back. The monster screeched and snapped at him a final time, clipping his shoulder. Then it went limp, and the dead weight unbalanced the stallion and dragged them both to the ground.
When Link peeled himself from the enormous winged carcass, he was met with a staccato of shrill laughter.
"You just might be the worst hero to ever be chosen, by anyone," Midna brayed. For poor Padraig that was the final straw. With his saddle blanket reeking of blood, Malon's stallion galloped south down the road, leaving Link staring in disbelief at the plume of dust he left behind.
"And now your horse is gone, too. Wonderful. You're pathetic."
Anger boiled hotter, fuelled by his heart's frightful drumming, and Link turned towards her ready to hurl it in her face when a hollow screech cut him off. The sun disappeared behind a black shadow, the true reason for Padraig's flight; moments later Link felt himself scooped up and hurled through the air.
He landed on his side and rolled through the dust, gasping, before he splayed his arms to stop himself. Quicker than lightning the Shadow Beast followed with bouncing leaps, its massive arms whipping forth to pin Link to the ground.
Miraculously, his sword was still securely in his grasp and Jaggle's shield was strapped to his arm. He bashed the snaking hands away and shielded his face just before the beast hammered its masked head down against the shield with a jostling bang. Sudden pain radiated from Link's shoulder. For a moment he saw only stars. Then the beast howled and released him.
"Get up, idiot!" Midna called as she struggled to keep her hold on the beast's throat. Link tried to comply, but his right arm would not obey him. The shoulder pulsed with flaring pain so sharp it made his eyes tear up. He bit through it, hurtling to his feet to slice cleanly through the beast's throat. The monstrous creature crumpled to the ground.
Midna's furious voice accompanied him as he sank back to his knees, whimpering in pain and cradling his right arm. "You are worse than pathetic, you are a disgrace. Fighting these monsters is your job, not mine…! Should your shoulder stick out like that?"
He glanced at his arm and grunted at the nauseating distortion in his upper tunic. The pain made his head spin. He delicately unclasped the shield while he ransacked his brain for how Uli would go about this. Arm down, elbow in, relax, slowly lift the forearm…
He cried out and rolled onto the affected side out of instinct, causing it to burn even more.
"Talk to me, idiot! What happened?"
"Stop calling me that! It—my shoulder!" he called through clenched teeth, fighting to stay calm as he staggered to his feet and glanced around him, scanning the area for any more foes. Silhouettes bobbed in the distance but seemed yet unaware of his presence. He hurried into the shelter of the bushes where the Shadow Beast had sprung from and lay back down, instructing Midna to grab a hold of his arm.
"You're not ordering me around," she huffed.
"I can't do it by myself."
"Can't you just put a bandage on it?"
"No!" He gave up and held his right arm up at an angle, gently bending it sideways until the popped joint hindered any further movement. "It's dislocated. The joint came out of its socket. I've seen Uli treat Moe like this a number of times. Just—Press down on here, slowly."
She grudgingly complied, using a strand of her hair like a thick string that she looped around his wrist. It felt coarse like straw and moved in an odd fashion, like it had a will of its own. Link watched, teeth gritted, how she moved her outstretched finger downward, the hair following obediently. Small wisps of magic floated in between like misty tethers.
"Stop tensing."
"That's the shoulder joint, not me. Push it down."
She did so, and he screamed. Then the pain lessened. Shuddering, he sat back up; the feeling in his fingers returned and prickled fiercely as he flexed the appendage, waking it from its dormancy.
"Thanks," he breathed, looking crookedly at Midna.
"You're pathetic," she hissed, and disappeared.
Bolting to his feet, still dizzy from the adrenaline rush, he pointed an accusing finger at his shadow. "What is your problem, Midna? This is all new for me, you know? Do you think I want to get hurt?"
She stayed silent. "Midna!" No response.
At that point he knew it was futile to strain his voice any further. Stranded in the open without a horse, with a sore arm, and a partner who ignored him, Link had no choice but to go the rest of the way on foot. Thankfully he had passed the night closer to the Twilight border than he'd thought, and the road led him to the shimmering black wall within the hour.
When he stood before it, his heart seized with painful remembrance. The day that still haunted his sleep, the day his brother and his friends had been taken before his very eyes, replayed in his mind and brought a wave of new emotions upon him; loss, doubt, guilt… Coupled, as he approached the shimmering black wall, with the phantom pain of his first transformation; that blazing agony as his limbs stretched, the fur sprouted, as his nose exploded and was pulled into the shape of a muzzle, his nails growing and burning as if being wrenched out with tweezers. The false sensations were amplified by the constant vibration that wallowed from the towering barrier.
Involuntarily, his body grew stiff, and he had to push himself forward to battle its terror-induced lethargy.
"Hurry up, already!" Midna called, reappearing beside him. "All you have to do is go in. What's taking so long?"
He cast her shadow an angry look, cradling his sore arm. "I'm coming. Just… give me a moment."
"We spared enough moments. Don't you care about your miserable little friends at all?"
"I do," he growled, growing frustrated with his body's unnatural weight. Come on, you have to do this. For Colin. He needs you!
He pushed his left hand through the wall, breaching it easily, and the sensation of prickling wrongness assaulting it rooted him in place. He tried to pull it back out, but it wouldn't move.
Suddenly he felt a shifting, hairy touch on his hand that engulfed it and pulled him off of his feet. He cried out as the Twilight enclosed his body and was instantly racked with tremors, catching only a small glimpse of Midna's restored body flicking back her hair-hand which she had used to drag him in. She sneered at him as he curled up, locked in the throes of transformation and giving voice to the intense pain with weak screams and whimpers. There was not an ounce of pity on her face.
Finally, the torture lessened. Slowly, he opened his eyes, scrunching his nose when a strong smell of sewer, soot, and wet dog overcame him.
You stink, Midna, he thought dully.
"You want to know my opinion? I think you look much better in this form than in those dusty old clothes. Now, at least, no one will mistake you for a pathetic little boy, hehehe."
Link growled and pushed himself up, testing his right front leg. It throbbed dully, but the muscles seemed less strained than he had expected. In the distance, he saw red mountains and hills and Hyrule Field stretching out before him, subtly changing its hue in a slow gradient from green to yellow. The air smelled of dried grass and burnt wood. Black speckles floated in the vibrating air, pricking him gently as they moved across him.
This was the Eldin Province, home to the olive-skinned folk and the Gorons of the east. His few history books had made many mentions of this wondrous region of ochre sandstone, lavender fields, and sheep pastures and spoke in great length of its mineral and metallurgical industry. If Faron was the land of greenery, Eldin was the land of stone. Temperatures were arid and hills were almost entirely replaced by jagged mountains. The great plains that reached for the irregular horizon were flat as a pan. In the flecked Twilight air, he could see as far as Eldara and its environs spotted with vast tilled fields.
He growled as Midna jumped onto his back and put more strain on his aching shoulder.
"Don't you snarl at your master," she said.
He lifted his right paw. You're making my arm worse!
"I healed it, didn't I?" She folded her arms.
A short clash of wills and a painful slap on his head later, it was Link's—slightly exaggerated—limping that settled the one-sided argument. "Ugh, fine! Didn't expect anything else from a pathetic weakling like you."
Finally unbothered, he followed the old road eastward until, rising like shapeless monuments from the dusty ground, rust-red rocks gently guided him into a long canyon. They passed a sloping sign with the inscription Kakariko, charred and loose.
Another raided village, Link sighed, trotting past broken gates until the first crumpled buildings appeared in the distance, when a breathy whisper echoed along the deserted road.
"Come… to my spring… oh Divine Beast… I seek… your help…"
"He sure does," Midna scoffed beside him.
He approached the natural alcove within the ochre rocks in which the large spring was snugly tucked. A domed clay building sat in its vicinity in a style he had not seen yet. Eldin's soft wailing suffused the air, the sound of a suffering Light Spirit who had lost almost all the essence of its existence. With his head lowered, Link approached the soiled-looking water where a few sparkles of light floated aimlessly about. His throat produced a quiet whine of sympathy, and the orbs slowly flew towards him.
"Seek… my lost Light… oh brave youth… and put an end to… my land's suffering…"
The orbs melted together to form a shining, golden vine and landed in front of him where Midna grudgingly took it in her hands.
As they quietly set off, Link's heightened senses prickled with an acute feeling of dread, even more so than what the vibrating Twilight brought on. The air was laden with the smell of death, but he found not a single corpse. Debris from burned and smashed houses lay scattered about, as well as—
He started forward suddenly, ignoring his leg's stiffness. Before a large building with a long front porch, pressed against the high canyon wall, lay a half-burnt cart, the broken remnants of a cage resting beside it. No, no, Colin! Please!
For better or worse, the cage was empty. He sniffed the splintered wood frantically, but the charcoal stink overwhelmed any scent he might have uncovered. He glanced around, fully taking in just how much destruction had been wreaked here.
In Hyrule Field, the villages had been pillaged but remained mostly intact. Kakariko was in shambles; almost all the timber-clay houses sitting along the single main road had succumbed to a smouldering grave. Rubble littered the dusty ground and cattle stood bleakly among the wiry bushes. He saw no spirit orbs floating around, as he had in Bando. Despite finding not a single body, his senses were certain; death had taken a heavy tribute from Kakariko.
Oh, dear goddesses… he whined.
"This happened before you even made it out of the forest," Midna murmured. "There's nothing you could have done to prevent this."
Her uncharacteristic tone made him look at her, and he saw her child-like face scrunched up as if in pain. He hadn't even thought she could feel empathy, let alone to such a degree.
"Look, over there," she said and pointed to the remains of a warehouse.
There was a single orb of light floating at knee-level next to a human shape stretched out on the ground; a body, after all. The fact that Link could see the prone figure instead of a spirit sealed the person's fate instantly. Link concentrated, and soon a long-haired man kneeling next to the deceased appeared. He reeked of leather, blood, and rotten eggs.
"What's he doing?" Midna asked, her tone soft and meek.
The man, mumbling something Link could not make out, was busy stitching a linen blanket around the corpse, making short bowing movements with his torso, again and again, and upon looking closer Link could see that he had his eyes almost closed.
It's a ritual of burial… he thought, mesmerised by the man's trance-like movements. He's praying.
Suddenly the man stopped and started out of his stupor, looking back and almost straight at Link.
Can you see me? Link thought, racked with hope, but the slow shuffling that rang in the vibrating air behind them made his fur stand on end.
"Shadow Beast," Midna muttered. "And I think it's here for our little spirit friend."
Not if I can help it, Link growled and jumped into a run, leaving Midna with the spirit. Pushing through his leg's acute discomfort, he bounded along the street through wood splinters and hay bales until he saw the horrifying beast lumbering through the dust. It let out a screech and charged, impossibly fast, winding through the debris like an eel on legs. Link met it head-on and lunged for its neck and saw, from the corner of his eye, how it lifted its arm to stop him. He prepared to be swatted aside, but nothing touched him. A heartbeat later his teeth closed around its throat and ripped it apart.
When he landed and spit out the black lump of flesh, he realised why the monster's right, serpent-fingered hand had not made contact; it was missing. A gnarled stump was all it had.
"Huritt…" a breathy whisper echoed across the clashing worlds and to Link's ears. The long-haired man passed him and knelt by the fallen creature, holding its plank-like face delicately, suddenly racked with sobs.
What the… Why…?
"Did Din hear my prayers?" the man cried softly. "Did She strike you down and deliver you of your cursed fate? Goddesses be praised, They heard me… I'm so sorry."
Realisation hit Link like a flush of cold water as Midna joined him and voiced his thoughts out loud. "You just killed a beast that had once been a Human," she told him, her tone unreadable, before she added more sympathetically, "You did them a favour, believe me. Unlike you, they can't be turned back to normal."
He allowed her words to suffuse his aching heart, but his attempts to convince him of his action's righteousness were insubstantial. Nothing but Midna's word gave him the certainty that these creatures were beyond saving; if the light's return could bring him back, could a different power return them to normal as well? How could he be sure he had not just forever ended the promise of deliverance for an innocent man?
Suddenly mortified, he recalled his other encounters with the nightmarish monsters. How many of those I killed were transformed spirits that had once been human? Oh, Hylia…
But what choice did he have if they mindlessly attacked others and him? Just like the two drunkards who had assaulted Malon, he had to be unwavering in his aim to protect the innocent. Drunk men could perhaps be reasoned with; Shadow Beasts could not.
Silently they watched the spirit fetch another oilskin tarp and wrap it around the massive beast, his movements slow and reverent. They followed him as he went back to the first body to finish his ritual. They stayed close, guarding the shadowy perimeter like silent sentinels, as the man took hold of his dead neighbour and dragged the body along a side road where the canyon formed a high-walled yard. The Kakariko cemetery, its crooked old headstones loosely assembled like a crowd of bowed onlookers, bore in its centre a shallow pit in which were cradled Kakariko's fallen villagers. There were dozens of them.
Link stared at the pile of linen-wrapped bodies stacked crisscrossed like logs. Ordonians commonly buried their dead at a location of the deceased's choosing, usually in the forest or atop lonely hills. The knot in his stomach, formed by grief and anger, forced his body into a curl of agony. Never before had he witnessed so much unjust loss of life.
Why wasn't I awakened earlier? he thought desperately. Why didn't the goddesses lead me here sooner? I could have stopped this, somehow! All this death…! He wished he was back in his Hylian body so he could shed tears silently.
"If you need any motivation for your journey: this is it," his Twili companion snarled. "There's no point in whining about it. Get up and do your damn duty!"
For once he agreed with her. The wrath that bloomed in his heart turned into a crushing need for revenge that made his fur stand tall. Shaking on his paws, he turned his back to her and growled, tossing his head. She nodded, and they dashed off into the monotonous, orange radiance sprinkled with black speckles, on the hunt for the parasites holding Eldin's light hostage.
When Link stumbled back into the cemetery hours later, covered in Shadow Insect goo, torn-off bug legs, and wing membrane, all that was left of Kakariko's victims was a dark crater in the ground. He'd been able to spot the sooty smoke column for miles and miles, a constant morbid presence spurring him to find the elusive insects. It had taken him far too long to track them all down, and his strength was depleted. His arm was giving him hell, stinging so intensely that he could no longer put pressure on it. He'd been hopping for the past hour on three legs only. Even Midna had slowed considerably, floating beside him with her arms hanging limply; despite her claim that bodily needs had been bred out of her, sleep seemed to be a vital need she'd retained.
The pit was empty and most of the ash had been scooped out. The smell still hovering in the yard made his sensitive nose sting and his stomach churn; never had he ruminated about what a human body smelled like if set on fire, and he was certain the olfactory imprint, acrid and vile, would now and forevermore haunt his memories.
The spirit of the long-haired man was gone as well, and Link at once felt nervous. Had the survivor been reasonable enough to shelter in one of the intact buildings, or had a Shadow Beast caught him? Link tried finding his rotten-egg-trace, but the hovering smoke from the cremation eclipsed every scent.
"Come on," Midna mumbled, holding the filled vessel of light with her fingertips. "Let's give him back his light. And… if that man is still around, don't get caught up in your samaritan urges. He's only one of thousands who have lost their homes and their loved ones. You're here to fix the big picture, not to save every little soul that survived the onslaught. Okay?"
Too tired to argue, even only mentally, Link nodded and hobbled towards the spring where Midna tossed the vessel harshly into the water before diving for his shadow. Link was propelled back to face the village by an explosion of energy as the light spirit breathed to life at last.
Just as for the holy creature it was a long-awaited salvation, equally was it a torture for Link. He cried out as the blinding light rolled over him and banned the shadows from his body. Gyrations of agony wallowed through his body, drawing screams from him until he could no longer catch his breath.
Finally, it ebbed away.
A thin ray of red sunlight warmed his cheek.
"Hero… chosen by the gods…" Eldin's voice, soft yet powerful once again, murmured in his ears. Link turned just enough to look at the platformed spring burrowed into the amber rock, its telltale monoliths of carven stone glowing with aureate veins. "I thank you… for ridding this land of Twilight."
The spirit remained unseen and only a shapeless, cloud-like entity encircled by chiming sparks hinted at its restored presence. Link didn't mind; a cold ache persisted from his transformation, adding its burden to the rest of his body's soreness. He doubted he would have been able to show adequate appreciation for the spirit's blinding radiance in his current state. All he wanted was to lay right there, fall asleep beneath the glowing sunset, and allow his subconscious to absolve his mind of the horrors he had seen.
"The dark power you seek … lies in the sacred grounds of the proud mountain dwellers," Eldin whispered more urgently. "But already those grounds have been defiled, draped in shadow and seeded with evil."
For a short moment, Link's eyes were privy to the spirit's bright outline; a hawk-like creature, splaying enormous wings, perched on top of its pulsing light orb. Owlish, the face was small and bearded with two hanging lapels.
"Cleanse them," it commanded, retreating back into darkness. "Fortify yourself for your battles to come. Your power must grow stronger."
The ringing grew silent as the spirit returned to its dormancy. Sighing, Link prepared to do the same, when a quiet gasp sounded in the distance.
"Link…?"
He would have recognised that voice from anywhere.
This was not possible… He must be dreaming.
He pushed himself up to his knees and stared ahead at the domed clay building neighbouring the spring and the figures that stood within its open doors.
Their clothes were torn and dirty, but their eyes reflected such monumental happiness that Link forgot to blink. His breath caught in his throat. He choked on a name, his mind struggling to confirm what his eyes showed him, and still, he could not believe it.
Blond cropped tufts, a red headscarf, a pair of purple trousers, and a long orange skirt.
He'd made it.
He'd found them.
"Colin…" Link breathed.
Arms flailing, his little brother ran down the small hill to the spring shore, and Link tried to get to his feet to meet him. His brain was still wired to walk like a wolf and abandoned him in favour of confusion, but Colin reached him before he could make another attempt. With a harsh sob, Link closed his arms around him.
"You're safe, you're all safe," he whispered, tears of joy flowing over his dirty face and wetting his brother's blonde hair that he mindlessly tussled with his fingers. Colin wrapped his tiny arms around his middle and crushed the air from Link's lungs, but Link hardly minded.
He had not failed. They were unharmed and safe. All of them.
He had finally found them.
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