Chapter 16: Drowning in Guilt
After an eternity of silence except for the wind whistling through the tower, Noah released a defeated sigh. He walked to the edge; the Sheikah Slate holstered on his sides. Resting his foot over the side and glancing out of the Tower, Noah felt an odd sensation of comfort.
"How's the serenity?" Noah spoke quietly with a depressed smile.
Leaning over the railing, he gazed at the vastness before him. The distant Hyrule River snaked through the landscape, meeting the imposing Duelling Peaks that pierced the horizon. A strange sense of peace washed over him, a stark contrast to the turmoil within.
But the peace was fleeting. As the wind tickled his ears, his heart ached with the overwhelming question: How is his family? Did they miss him? Knowing them they were all probably deathly afraid of what happened to their little boy. But did they blame themselves, believing they had failed him? Or did they think he had abandoned them, unable to handle the burden of his life?
With each thought, the weight in his chest grew heavier. He had only intended to stay in this bizarre reality for a few hours, but days had slipped by in the blink of an eye. 'Perhaps I'm the one who failed them?' he thought sombrely. 'No, they wouldn't give up so easily. They'll search every corner, refusing to believe the worst.'
Noah felt a newfound determination. He owed it to them to find a way back, just as they wouldn't rest until they found him. With a resolute sigh, he tore his gaze from the breathtaking landscape and focused on the raft bobbing below, where Christa sat patiently.
"Guess I kept a beautiful lady waiting," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips as he crouched down, ready to descend.
But as he prepared to climb down, another peculiar thought wormed its way into his mind. 'What if I just...jumped?' The idea sent shivers down his spine. He used to be terrified of heights, but since arriving in this new world, that fear seemed to have vanished.
Had his entire sense of fear diminished? he wondered, a thought to ponder later.
The thought of jumping was terrifying, yet a thrill bloomed in his chest. 'Screw it,' he whispered, the fear still clinging to him.
In a burst of adrenaline, Noah raced back to the Sheikah Terminal. Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, he sprinted towards the edge of the tower and leaped into the abyss.
As he plummeted towards the water, the fear returned with a vengeance. He shrieked, a primal scream of terror escaping his lips. 'Why did I do this?!' he screamed internally, regret flooding him.
He hit the water with a bone-jarring impact, the cold enveloping him instantly. Ignoring the stinging pain in his face, he fought the current's pull and swam towards the surface, breaking through next to the raft.
Neph, alerted by his screams and the splash, was already at the edge of the raft, her face etched with concern. "Noah! Are you alright?" she cried out.
But Noah, despite the lingering fear, surprised himself and everyone else by bursting into laughter. "That was incredible! ...Though, definitely not doing it again," he managed between his chuckles.
He truly felt a sense of liberation, a feeling he'd never experienced in his previous life. Christa, however, looked on with a mix of relief and exasperation, a sigh escaping her lips. Her expression softened slightly as she prepared the raft for their departure.
She probably doesn't even understand what this tower is, hence, their curiosity,' Noah thought, trying to make sense of her reactions. 'Or maybe she's just annoyed I got her wet,' he mused humorously.
Knowing they needed to move on, Noah climbed aboard. They soon set off, rowing back towards the Wall where Neph awaited.
As they glided along the river, Noah seized the opportunity to probe Christa. "By the way, I wanted to ask about something," he said, focusing on his strokes.
"What is it?" Christa asked curiously tilting her head slightly.
"Back on the Great Plateau, when you, uh...had that, you know, sharp conversation with me which was pleasant," he added with a nervous chuckle, "Neph mentioned something about the King's Curse. What exactly did she mean by that?"
Christa, perhaps still feeling a pang of guilt over their initial encounter, averted her gaze, her eyes fixated on the flowing water as she answered patiently.
"When the Great Calamity struck," she began, her tone heavy, "chaos descended upon Hyrule with breathtaking speed. Guardians, those monstrous machines, emerged from Hyrule Castle and mercilessly slaughtered Hyrule Castle Town."
A shudder ran down Noah's spine as he pictured the scene – the once vibrant town, littered with the corpses of innocents, he saw a brief cutscene once but seeing it in a game couldn't compare to a reality where it actually happened.
"The attack spared no one," Christa continued, her voice trembling slightly. "From the noble houses to the common folk, all fell victim to the indiscriminate slaughter for the goddess to bear witness. In the aftermath, the remnants of the Hyrulean Army scrambled to establish evacuation points for the surviving citizens."
Intrigued, Noah leaned in, absorbing the details like a sponge. This was entirely new information, a stark contrast to the history he knew.
"Three locations were chosen," Christa explained. "The Citadel in Akkala, the Eastern region beyond Fort Hateno, and... the Great Plateau."
Noah frowned. "Why the Great Plateau, of all places? It seems an unusual choice."
A flicker of sadness crossed Christa's face. "They envisioned the Plateau, with its lofty elevation, as a logistical hub. It was meant to serve as a staging ground for a counter-offensive to liberate Hyrule Castle Town, while simultaneously providing refuge for the evacuees. Siege cannons were to be positioned here, taking advantage of the height advantage."
Noah nodded in understanding. It did seem strategically sound, given the circumstances. With limited technology and with the government in shambles communication and travel between the three evacuation points must've been difficult. However, a gnawing feeling lingered in his gut. He knew, from his own memories of the game, that this plan wouldn't succeed.
"So, what happened next?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Christa sighed; her words heavy with sorrow. "They failed. Their communication birds were intercepted and silenced, their siege cannons mysteriously destroyed, their efforts seemingly sabotaged by an unseen force. The soldiers reported unsettling whispers carried on the night wind, a chilling feeling of being watched, unseen."
A shiver danced down Noah's spine. "An unseen force, you say? What do you mean?"
Christa's voice dropped even lower. "It wasn't much later that they discovered why because... he came."
"He?" Noah echoed; his curiosity piqued.
"The reports are fragmented, but the prevailing belief is that the deceased spirit of the late King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, consumed by anguish over the kingdom's demise, emerged from his deathly slumber and attacked the Great Plateau garrison in a fit of rage and confusion believing the army was his enemies."
Noah's eyes widened in disbelief. King Rhoam? Attacked the army? It seemed absurd, yet not entirely untrue, afterall Noah already knew that King Rhoam never truly died all those years ago. But it still didn't make sense, the malice shouldn't have taken control over King Rhoam by that point.
"They fought back, of course," Christa continued. "But their weapons proved useless against the spectral king. Siege cannons, designed to decimate physical foes, passed through him harming his physical body. Yet, no matter the damage his body collected he pressed on, his form eventually resembling a macabre marionette fueled by his unyielding fury."
Noah felt a pang of sympathy for the soldiers, forced to confront such an impossible adversary. He vividly recalled his own encounter with King Rhoam when he was infused with Malice, his monstrous strength and unsettling resilience was a horrific sight. If King Rhoam was truly possessed in a similar way, the soldiers wouldn't stand a chance.
"Their resistance proved futile," Christa said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Shortly after, a sizeable horde of Guardians was spotted approaching the Great Plateau. With their defences compromised by the ghostly king's rampage, the commanders were forced to make a heartbreaking decision. They ordered a full retreat, sealing the entrance to the Plateau with a powerful explosion."
The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions. Noah pondered the story, piecing together the fragments of information. Was King Rhoam truly vengeful, or was there a deeper motive at play?
"So, the civilians and soldiers managed to escape?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Thankfully, yes," Christa replied, a glimmer of relief softening her features. "They regrouped at Fort Hateno, their training ensuring no casualties among them. The Sheikah Tribe, acting under the authority of the Hylian Great Families, then declared the Great Plateau off-limits, forbidding anyone from entering.
Noah had witnessed King Rhoam's searing displays of fiery wrath firsthand. Despite seasoned soldiers facing the onslaught, how did they suffer zero casualties? That also begs the question of why King Rhoam acted behind the scenes initially?'
After much deliberation, Noah formulated a few theories. He refused to believe King Rhoam had attacked out of vengeance or fiery rage, but rather he played a part, portraying those emotions.
A more plausible explanation was that King Rhoam deliberately lured them out of the Great Plateau. Perhaps he anticipated the guardian's arrival and recognized the imminent fall of the logistics hub. By creating chaos and causing significant damage, he might have forced their retreat to ensure their safety.
Naturally, no one alive could confirm this and Noah wasn't intending to walk back and ask King Rhoam himself. Perhaps King Rhoam also desired an empty Great Plateau to protect link from being disturbed Or, maybe, genuine rage truly consumed him after his death, and he regained sentience later.
Yet, if King Rhoam was indeed compelled to displace his own people, Noah could only imagine the crippling guilt he must have endured.
"But... where do I fit into this narrative?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
Christa met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and apprehension. "We both believed your family, unlike the others, defied the evacuation order and ventured deeper into The Great Plateau. As for the King's Curse, legend dictates that anyone who dares to approach or climb the Great Plateau will face the wrath of the King"
Noah chuckled grimly, his smile a grimace as he continued to row. "Lucky guess, yes you're right, my family ignored the evacuation order. By the sounds of it, I suppose I'm lucky."
"Not lucky enough to avoid getting that seaweed on you," Christa teased, pointing playfully at a strand clinging to his leg.
Noah glanced down, surprise flickering across his face. It didn't look like seaweed he was used to, it was thicker, a strange green with an unsettlingly pulsating quality. "Must have snagged it when I dove in," he said, reaching down to remove it. "Speaking of getting caught, looks like you aren't lucky either"
Noah gestured towards Christa neck with a playful smile, where a similar strand of the strange plant had entwined itself. As he leaned closer to remove it, something clicked in his mind. 'Since when did seaweed grow in lakes?'
His realization came an agonizing beat too late. The "seaweed" convulsed, its green tendrils coiling tightly around Noah's ankle. Panic surged through him as the plant pulsed, tightening its hold with unnatural strength as his eyes widened in alarm.
"Christa!" he rasped; his voice raspy with urgency. He lurched towards her, but a sickening feeling swept over him as the tendrils sticking to Christa mimicked his movement, wrapping themselves around her throat with suffocating force.
Her eyes widened in terror, her hands clawing in vain at the constricting plant. With a guttural scream, she fought for air, her face contorting in silent agony.
Noah scrambled towards her, adrenaline fuelling his movements. But his foot caught on something, sending him sprawling. The "seaweed" seized its opportunity, lashing out and wrapping around his other leg. He was dragged towards the murky depths, the chilling water closing in around him.
The familiar sensation of cold enveloped him after, but unlike the exhilarating dive earlier, it now felt suffocating. He knew struggling was futile. Holding his breath, he squinted through the murky water grabbing his holstered Travellers Sword.
With a burst of determination, Noah hands grabbed onto the hilt and swung wildly, the blade slicing through several tendrils. A surge of relief washed over him, but it was short-lived.
From the murky depths, new tendrils erupted. They snatched the sword from his grasp, pulling it away into the darkness. Panic gnawed at him as he felt his strength waning, the air burning in his lungs.
"Damn you!" he roared, his voice a strangled whisper. He lashed out with his bare hands, ripping and tearing at the constricting tendrils. They were surprisingly resilient, snapping back to restrain him the moment he loosened his grip.
Desperation fuelled a primal instinct. What had just happened? He was smiling and laughing just a few minutes ago with Christa and now he was being dragged to a watery death, this was unfair. It was cruel.
"Fuuuuck you!" Noah screamed in anger.
Spotting a particularly thick strand, he lunged forward, jaws snapping shut with the ferocity of a cornered animal.
He clamped down with all his might, ignoring the sharp, burning pain in his jaw. He tasted something bitter, acrid, and vaguely plant-like. With a final, desperate yank, he ripped the tendril free, spitting out the pulpy mess.
The pressure around his arm lessened, allowing him to manoeuvre. Working with a frenzy born of terror and grief, he used his hands and teeth to tear through the remaining bonds, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth.
He didn't know what this creature was, but it was clear it wasn't done. He had to get to the surface, fast. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his limbs and the burning in his lungs, he propelled himself upwards, breaking through the water's surface with a gasp.
Breaking the surface of the water he didn't waste time and quickly climbed onto the raft. He coughed violently, sucking in precious air. His heart berated against his chest as he had narrowly avoided death. But a chilling realization froze him.
He was alone.
He didn't need Navi to tell him what had occurred, Christa was dragged down shortly after him.
Panic clawed at his throat as he scanned the water frantically. All he saw were ripples spreading outwards and the tell-tale signs of a struggle – bubbles rising to the surface.
Gritting his teeth, Noah grabbed a handful of Christa's arrows that had fallen on the ground and clenched them in his teeth. He dove back into the water, the desperate image of her struggling and suffocating face burned into his memory.
The underwater world was a swirling kaleidoscope of green and brown, visibility limited by the murky depths. He swam blindly.
The water stung his eyes, blurring his vision further. His lungs burned, his head throbbed, and his limbs ached with every stroke. Panic threatened to consume him, but Noah forced it down, focusing on the faint trail of bubbles rising in the distance.
He followed them, kicking harder, swimming deeper. The tendrils of the monstrous plant brushed against him, sending shivers down his spine. He swatted them away, his movements focused.
Then, he saw her.
Christa, limp and lifeless, suspended in the water column, caught in the clutches of the pulsating green mass. Her eyes were closed, her skin pale, and her once vibrant blond hair streamed lifelessly around her.
'Damn it!' Noah groaned
He lunged forward, ignoring the tendrils that lashed out at him, wrapping around his arm, his leg, trying to drag him down.
He fought them with a renewed intensity that refused to let go. He ripped and tore at the pulsating plant equipping both of his hands with the arrows slicing through them using the sharp arrowheads, feeling the sting of its acidic touch, but never letting go of his focus.
Finally, with a herculean effort, he reached Christa. He used another arrow to sever the thickest tendrils holding her captive. The monstrous plant thrashed and pulsed in protest, but Noah ignored it, his sole focus on her.
He cradled her in his arms, rising towards the surface with a desperate urgency. Her chest wasn't moving. Her face was devoid of colour. But he refused to give up.
He broke through the surface, gasping for air, and dragged Christa onto the raft. He checked for a pulse, his heart sinking into his stomach when he found none.
The murky water blurred his vision as he struggled to think. He couldn't lose her. It was his fault she had followed him, and If the river monstrosity didn't kill him, Neph's anger most certainly would.
Noah ripped his shaking hands away from Christa's cold skin and began CPR, his hands pressing rhythmically against her chest. Each push felt like holding against the tide, a desperate fight against the inevitable.
Just as he was about to begin rescue breaths, Christa's eyes flew open, except they weren't the same eyes. Her pink eyes glowed vibrantly in the dim surroundings like embers, the reflection dancing eerily on the surface. The same pink hue began to creep through her skin, a sickly pulsating light that turned her pale flesh an unnatural shade.
Seeing this Noah begun to calm down, noticing that her powers had activated somehow, even if it was different than what he was used to.
Then, a gasp. A flicker of life returned to her chest. Christa coughed violently, water erupting from her lungs in a geyser. Her eyes stabilized, meeting his in a gaze filled with confusion and a flicker of fear
Relief washed over him; a wave so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees. He was confused, scared and also slightly terrified but most importantly he was relieved.
They had survived. However, the lake wasn't as peaceful as the two thought. The monstrous plant lurked beneath the surface, and it probably wasn't happy about losing its lunch.
As the two looked at the water, they both silently went to work Noah throwing her the Boko spear and himself using his empty scabbard to row the boat with renewed intensity
The remaining few minutes felt painstakingly long, and they had even needed to swat a few of the tendrils a few times but eventually they reached the other side.
As the two fell onto dry land again, they stared at each other before silently absorbing their relative safety painting the scene in a bittersweet beauty.
They had cheated death.
But the raft hadn't.
Moments after they arrived onshore the ocean vibrated like an earthquake had hit as an unspeakable amount of green tendrils broke the surface and wrapped around the raft until its surface wasn't visible any further.
Slowly the raft was dragged under the lake, never to return.
'Chew on that you bastard' Noah mocked, whilst still being terrified of the scene.
Breaking the silence, Noah asked, his voice hoarse, "Are you okay?"
Christa took a ragged breath, her gaze still fixed on the water where their near-death experience had unfolded.
"Yes," she replied, a hint of weakness in her voice. "I can heal, remember?" she added, a ghost of a smile flickering on her lips.
But the smile didn't reach her eyes. It was fragile, strained, and a million miles from her usual confident grin. As she reached out to touch Noah, he gently pushed her hand away.
"No," he said firmly, his voice surprisingly steady despite the pain in his body. "You don't need to heal me."
The smile vanished completely, replaced by a frown. Christa stared at him, hurt flickering in her pink eyes. Yet, she didn't have the energy to argue and merely nodded.
"We should get back," Christa said, her voice barely a whisper. "I... I don't know what that thing was."
Noah denied her help for a very specific reason, in fact once he heard of her amazing ability, he was almost certainly sure there was some kind of drawback, but he simply didn't know what it was until now.
While Christa said she was healed, she didn't look like it. Her arms were shaking and she was shockingly pale. Noah imagined that using her ability takes a toll on her in some matter most likely in fatigue and weakness.
It may have been petty, but Noah's pride wouldn't let her expend precious energy on him, not when the situation was his fault. Also, the three of them were also about to navigate through a monster filled fortress. We needed to save our strengths.
Their walk back was a slow, laborious affair. Christa's earlier vibrance was gone but as they finally reached the clearing the two of them expected to find a very impatient Neph but surprisingly there was no one.
"She's probably still scouting; we can use this time to regain some energy." Noah suggested.
"I doubt she'll be gone for much longer." Neph replied.
As the two munched on some of their rations from the previous day they patiently waited for Neph to appear. This brief respite, however, was a welcome one.
"At least we're alive," Noah mumbled, attempting to lighten the mood. "Is that another gift from your goddess?"
Christa met his gaze, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Just moments before I lost consciousness, I prayed to the Goddess for help. Look who arrived then."
"I better thank her later." Christa noted out loud.
A pang of something akin to resentment flickered in Noah's chest. He felt deserving of her thanks, not some potentially fictitious deity. But he couldn't deny his responsibility in their predicament.
Neph's voice, heavy with concern, cut through the tense silence. "Your sword, though..."
Noah's frown deepened as he glanced at the empty scabbard. The sword, entrusted to him by King Rhoam, had served its purpose for a century. While admittedly dulled, it felt reliable, a symbol of countless past adventures and vanquished foes. Now, however, it rested at the bottom of the very lake that nearly claimed his life.
He acknowledged his sadness, but retrieving the sword at the cost of further endangering Christa or jeopardizing their progress was unthinkable.
"I'll… get another one." He spoke sombrely, not even he was convinced at his attempts of reassurance.
This encounter, however, served as a stark wake-up call. 'Theres monsters here I don't recognise from the game,' he thought, a shiver running down his spine.
He was too exhausted to care, he'd think about that issue later.
As they sat in silence, the rustling of leaves sent them scrambling to their feet, hands instinctively hovering near weapons. Emerging from the foliage was the reassuringly familiar figure of Neph, her brown hair askew.
However, Neph, presented a different picture that wasn't much different to the other two. Her armour bore the scars of battle – gouges, scratches, and dents. Her hair was a tangled mess, and several fresh wounds marred her skin.
Neph's gaze hovered to Christa's condition and then met Noah, her eyes hardening. Before she could voice any accusations, Noah raised his hands defensively. "It wasn't me, I swear. We were attacked on our return."
Christa, concern flickering in her eyes, lunged towards Neph, only to be stopped by a raised hand stopping her. The familiarity of their interaction confirmed Noah's suspicions – Neph was well-acquainted with Christa's vulnerabilities.
"I was hoping you two had better luck," Neph sighed, her gaze shifting towards the distant fortress.