Chapter 5: Descent

The familiar wind blew through Link's hair as he flew, once again headed south of Skyloft. The shapes and directions of familiar islands in the distance told him he wasn't far from where he and Zelda had been flying just yesterday, and hope and fear mingled into a knot of tension in his chest. From the Academy, he'd been given his final-class outfit that marked him as a Knight almost ready to finish his training, colours chosen for his year from the traditional set of greens and browns. He'd also been given his armour, and a shield, and permission to carry the Goddess Sword, now slung across his back. And he'd been given good-luck wishes, though he'd set out as soon as he possibly could, leaving it to Headmaster Gaepora to explain what was going on.

Link wasn't entirely sure he could have explained any of it himself anyway.

A strange sound like a brief series of soft chimes echoed in his mind, seeming to come from the sword on his back, and he glanced reflexively over his shoulder. It was difficult to tell in the light of day, but the pale hilt seemed to be glowing faintly.

You have almost reached the location of the opening in the cloud barrier, Master. Descend, and you will observe a break in the clouds below.

It was Fi's voice, unheard yet felt, almost like communicating with his own Loftwing, except that the words were crystal clear and precise as the point of a sword. Smart though the birds were, they more felt than spoke, communicating with their partner in a medley of impressions and understandings. Link's Loftwing sensed his desire and dove; felt his approval at the action, his tension at the unknown ahead. Still their resolves were united: find flockmate despite danger, the clouds below an eternal barrier at the base of their world that, if Fi was right, would open before them.

The Loftwing's discomfort grew as they neared the clouds, just as it always had. Almost everyone flew low at least once, invariably finding their bird would grow so uncomfortable on nearing the top of the cloud barrier that no amount of persuasion or cajoling could induce them to go further, and quite often the birds' instinctive sense that the clouds were a bad place would be so strong as to overtake their rider, too, sending the pair fleeing back upwards. Link levelled out again, searching the seemingly peaceful billows below, a faint sense of direction seeming to emanate from his sword. Ahead and to his right – sharp eyes scanning the clouds, he finally saw it, a dip in their otherwise unbroken cover.

Wanting to hurry, knowing he had to be cautious, Link veered to fly over the gap in the clouds, he and his bird alert for the slightest hint of danger. It was small, surprisingly sudden, not quite smooth-edged as little ragged wisps of cloud strayed into it and dissolved. Below, Link could see only a deep green colour, like a wood-farmer's plot in shadow.

Down there!

For a moment, they began to circle down, looking for their lost flockmate – but the Loftwing's discomfort, already high, rose unbearably.

Cannot go not-safe – but flockmate in danger – cannot go do-not-descend-cannot!

The bird's discomfort was so intense it was almost physical: Link felt he might be sick as he relented, letting them circle back up, half-unconsciously talking in a soothing undertone and smoothing his companion's feathers.

"Easy, easy…"

He felt anything but soothing, despite the front he tried to present to his loyal, brave Loftwing. If they couldn't fly down, how would he ever get there?

Master, the voice of Fi said calmly in his mind, you are still in possession of a sailcloth. You must use it to descend further.

Of course – Zelda's ceremonial gift to him! He hadn't unpacked it from his things when he transferred the belt pouches to his new outfit, not wanting to lose what might have been his last connection to his best friend. Hastily, letting his Loftwing steer an easy circle alone, Link pulled it out, holding it in front of him for a moment as he searched for the strapping at the corners, glad he and Zelda had taken the time to refold it properly. The memory sent another pang through him, and he held the cloth close for a long moment.

It still smelt ever so faintly of Zelda.

Telling himself firmly to keep moving, Link locked his hands into the straps, gripping the folds of the sailcloth and drawing it, still folded, taut across his Loftwing's back.

"I'm going to jump," he said aloud, reinforcing the impression he knew the bird had already felt. "Don't catch me."

Before there could be any coherent opposition, he swung his leg over his Loftwing's back and dived. The distance between them grew several times a Loftwing's length in the first second alone, a protesting squawk from above blown away in the rushing wind of his fall. Link felt the frustration growing to desperation above and tried to project that he was safe, that he knew what he was doing, that he would be fine, even as the distance attenuated their link to its vanishing point. He spread his limbs, slowing and guiding his fall, as the deep green beneath him rapidly resolved: darker surrounding lighter, then brown, a grey smudge to one side but mostly forming circles within circles, or no, a spiral. The dark green looked like trees: he couldn't land there, but the lighter green and brown – some kind of spiralling hole or valley – seemed to offer a clear landing site. The same unreasoning dread he'd felt when falling before rose within him, and he sideslipped sharply, aiming to land off-centre, as close to its edge as he could.

When he released the sailcloth, slowing his fall with a jolt, he was only just clear of the branches, and only a handful of seconds later found himself landing on what felt like mossy stone, the sailcloth falling in folds around him. Link hastily released the straps, pulling the fine, light cloth off himself and sweeping it aside until he could see again. Where he stood, everything seemed… alive. From the mossy stones beneath his feet to the grass sprouting to either side to the trees taller than any he'd seen before towering above, it was the opposite of anything he'd expected. Strange, almost musical sounds came from the branches, and as he gazed around, he spotted motion – tiny miniature birds, some smaller even than his closed fist, none so much as the size of his head. They were singing, warbling sounds a far cry from a Loftwing's squawk. Even the air felt strange: thick, heavy, otherworldly with strange and familiar smells of greenery and rich soil far stronger than he'd ever known them, only the very faintest of winds to stir it. In stark contrast to everything he'd ever heard, to the nameless fear still lurking below his heart, it was alive, mysterious, and almost inviting.

Reminding himself to focus on what needed to be done, he knelt again, beginning to refold the sailcloth back into a surprisingly small, neat bundle, straps towards the outside for easy access, the Goddess' emblem half-visible on the opposite side. The whistling and warbling of the tiny birds continued as he stowed it back in its pouch, apparently undeterred by his motions; some had even landed only a few paces away, pecking at whatever they could find amongst the overgrown stones.

Link stood again, looking around more slowly – only to take half a pace back in surprise as, with a subtle chime more felt than really heard, Fi vaulted from the sword on his back to hover directly in front of him.

"Analysis confirms that you have reached the location termed the Sealed Grounds. Please proceed with caution, Master."

Link gave a slow nod, and Fi drifted to the side, just out of his line of sight as he looked around. The lip of the hollow was somewhat to his left, far enough from him that he couldn't see to the bottom. A half-crumbled stone wall separated him from the huge trees to his right, vanishing into them further ahead, and beyond that – Link frowned: was that a building, or the remains of one, shrouded in greenery somewhat less than a quarter of the way around from him? Fi vanished back into the sword as he stepped forward, venturing slowly along the half-hidden paving and leaving his landing site behind.

As he drew closer, Link saw it was indeed a building: the half-open dome shape he had seen only the front of something much larger, draped in greenery and surrounded by trees, a spired roof rising up through them. The stonework was crumbling, and whatever front the half-dome might have once had was long since lost to the ages, something of a drop in front of it shored up and the stone within extended out by worn-looking wooden planking. Something seemed wrong about it, somehow…

He jumped as, once again, Fi vaulted out of the blade with that half-heard chime, this time hovering just to his right.

"Your intuition is correct, Master. The passage of time evident in the construction of the building ahead is inconsistent with the maximum age of the wooden platform you now observe."

Link glanced at her, head tilted slightly. How had she known? Could she tell what he was looking at? She'd spoken into his mind earlier, somehow.

"It is likely that this region is inhabited in some fashion," Fi continued. "You are advised to remain cautious. There is an 85% probability that the majority of surface-dwelling beings capable of complex construction are hostile."

He swallowed, nodding again and advancing more cautiously, each step careful as he set foot on the wide wooden platform, which held his weight with barely a creak. There was a large, heavy-looking pair of double doors at the back of the half-dome, and no other immediately obvious entrance, nor any further sign of anything intelligent, hostile or otherwise. The wooden floor ran all the way across the front to the lip of the hollow on the other side, where its roughly spiralling shape offered a somewhat gentler route down.

Link's breath caught as a chill ran through him like a shadow passing over his soul, the very world around him seeming to darken for a brief moment. The faint sense of dread that had been with him almost since he leapt from his Loftwing suddenly amplified tenfold, and he knew, knew without even knowing how, that something vast and terrible lurked below. He wanted to run; he had to see; and almost without a conscious decision he found himself taking the three or four slow, unwilling steps to the edge of the wooden platform and gazing down.

As wide and deep as an inverted island, there seemed to be a kind of standing stone at the very bottom, in its exact centre. Surrounding it, strange patterns looked almost burnt into the short grass or perhaps moss: patterns of brown and death against ailing pale green. And rising from it like the opposite of a heat haze, insubstantial tendrils of wavering shadow…

Darkness seemed to rush past him, and Link raised his arms to shield himself, instinctively shutting his eyes against it as he flinched away. The sound of the world around faded to silence; the cloud-filtered light of the sun faded away; even the very ground beneath his feet faded, leaving him hanging in nothingness. He was surrounded by red-tinged blackness, slowly lowering his arms and looking around, but there was nothing to see – until he looked down. Blacker than black, a stain of gnawing void lurked below him, swallowing all light though there was none left to swallow. As he watched, it seemed to grow; to become a gaping maw wide enough to consume the world-

A sudden pain shot through his head, through every part of him, so intense he could have cried from it. Link pressed his left hand to his forehead, then his right, almost cradling his head as it began to abate, leaving behind something ominous, something worse, about to crash down on him. He lifted his head instead, trying to focus on what was in front of him instead of anywhere his feelings might have taken him, only to see the same thing, the ominousness given form in the vast maw now rising up before him, an impression of scales in red-black on blackness, of towering immensity, of a hunger that would devour him.

It bent towards him. Link made himself reach for the sword he carried, his hand locking around the hilt, but it felt so small and its light so faint, it couldn't protect him. As the impossible hunger dived upon him, he flinched, cowering back, trying futilely to shield himself with his arms though it could trivially consume him whole, helpless against the inevitable...

There was no pain.

Slowly, Link cracked open one eye.

He was standing on the edge of the pit, on a wooden platform built by who knew what, solid under his feet. He could hear the sounds of leaves rustling, of the tiny birds singing in the distance. As he lowered his arms slowly, uncertainly, he realised he was just one pace back from the edge. Had he stepped back? Glancing from side to side, he braced himself, forced himself to look down again.

The standing stone seemed cloaked in shadow.

"Master Link," Fi said from beside him, and he turned sharply. He hadn't even noticed her emerge. "Visual inspection shows that the seal below us is at minimal power. It must be reinforced."

"Right…" Link murmured distractedly. Yes, reinforcing any kind of seal, anything to stop whatever it was would be good. He blinked, forcing himself to focus on Fi. Her emotionless calm was almost reassuring. "Uh… how?"

"The pillar you observe below is the key to the seal, Master. You must approach it, and when you are within range, raise your sword skyward as you did previously in the Chamber of the Sword. This will charge the blade with power. Swing your sword as if to strike, and that power will be released. This has been termed a Skyward Strike." She paused, again seeming to mark a change of subject. "The power that charges within your blade is of the same nature as the seal itself. Applying it to the seal's key will be sufficient to provide reinforcement for a short time."

"I… I understand."

I have to do this? Link wanted to protest. He didn't want to go anywhere near that thing, even as an awful fascination drew him closer, made him look again at the shadow-shrouded pillar far below. He wanted nothing more than to leave this place forever. But if he did, if whatever was down there escaped…

Fi returned to the sword, and Link stood for a long moment, looking down at the shadowed stone. A sudden wind blew across the hollow, ruffling his hair, bringing with it all the strange, heady, heavy scents of the surface. Link closed his eyes, breathing deeply for one last moment. A leaf blew by as he opened them again, and he turned, watching it, subconsciously relieved to finally have an excuse of sorts to look away. It left him gazing into the half-dome, at the old double doors and what might have been scuff marks in the moss in front of them. Was Zelda beyond those doors, somewhere? Was she safe? Injured? In trouble?

Link turned slowly towards the roughly spiralling slope that led down into the hollow. If Zelda was out there… then he couldn't leave this behind him to break free and find her. Gathering his resolve, he started down.

The terrible fascination of the seeping shadow grew ever stronger as he descended, though he stayed close to the sheer rocky sides of the pit, well back from the eroded edge of the spiral slope. His steps grew slower, heavier, his heart racing as, finally, he reached the roughly level ground at its base, level with the pillar, a triangular stone easily as tall and wide as he was and carved with strange etchings, all of them blurred and half-disguised by darkness. Link drew his sword, glowing brighter than it had before, as he approached.

Stopping just outside the whirls and arcs of dead moss on the mossy, stony ground, he raised the sword into the air, looking at it as its blade caught the light, filled with it; as-

Light shone in the blade, light pitted against darkness and something looming over it all, something vast coming towards him through the ruins – it hurt, it hurt so much – clinging vainly to the sword, a last spark of light where it rested across his chest pushing the darkness back for a precious moment-

There was a scream threaded through it, and he didn't think it was his own, another voice screaming in uncomprehending anguish.

-driven to one knee, forced himself to stand, the images were in no kind of order, falling when he could hold himself up no longer, he could feel the evil, the hunger coming for him, pulling the sword weakly to himself-

"Young man!"

That wasn't his voice, and it wasn't the scream, pitch-perfect and unbroken, threaded through everything, somehow all the more awful in its incomprehension.

"You, who came from the sky! Swing that sword towards the evil aura, now!"

Link reacted on reflex, slashing downwards as if he could cut through the images and feelings assaulting him. A wave of light and power swept from the blade, pure as a clear noon sky, seeming to cleave through the shadows. As it struck the pillar, all the symbols on it flared into brilliant life, the wisps of shadow rising from the ground fading slowly into nothingness.

He was standing alone on the stony ground at the bottom of the pit, sword in hand, an ornately carved triangular pillar before him at the centre of a complex pattern of dead and dying moss, diffuse sunlight filtering through the clouds above. Gasping despite the thick, heavy air of the surface, Link staggered backwards a couple of paces and fell to his knees, shaking. What was that? What had happened?

There were no answers, but simple time served to calm his breathing a little, his racing heart. Whatever it had been, it was over. He focused on what was in front of him: his hands in his lap, mostly hidden by his fingerless gloves, left still locked around the Goddess Sword's pale hilt.

"Fi?" he ventured, quietly. Seconds stretched out into silence as there was no response, and he tried again.

"Fi?"

Abruptly, the sword glowed back into life, Fi's otherworldly form springing from it, floating a pace or so in front of him with her back to the pillar.

"Master Link." Her voice was calm and still as blue stained glass, her blank eyes gazing directly at him.

"Are you… all right?"

Fi seemed to consider the question. "I am undamaged. It appears that I have encountered a processing error, delaying my ability to respond to you. I apologise, Master."

"Um, it's all right. You don't have to." That wasn't what I was asking. Whatever a 'processing error' meant. Had it been her voice he'd heard? He couldn't imagine Fi screaming, even silently. "That was… whatever happened, that was awful." You felt it too, didn't you?

Fi gazed at him for a moment longer, then turned, looking at the pillar. "Your Skyward Strike was sufficient to reinforce the seal. This reinforcement has critically decreased the degree to which the evil aura is able to seep from it into this world." Was she ignoring him? Or did she just not think his words needed a response? "Due to this decrease, I am now able to detect other auras and sources of power in the immediate area."

Link listened, unsure of where this was leading.

"Amongst these auras, there is one that bears a near-one-to-one correspondence to the traces remaining on your sailcloth. I surmise that this aura belongs to your friend, honourable Zelda."

Link shot to his feet, a sudden rush of hope washing through him. "Where? Where is she?"

"Unfortunately, the aura I detect is merely a trace of recent passage. However, I can guide you in the direction in which it is strongest. There is a 98% probability that this will be the direction in which she travelled."

Link nodded emphatically. "Please. Which way did she go?"

Fi raised one graceful 'arm' to gesture upwards, towards the ruined building they had been standing outside not long before. "You will need to pass through the building above. I will be able to provide more precise directions as we grow closer."

He nodded again, turning back to head up the spiralling slope as Fi once again returned to the sword. As he climbed, he couldn't help glancing over the side a few times at the pillar, now almost deceptively innocuous amidst the strange patterns of dead moss surrounding it. Was the building above, too, connected to the evil that lurked below?

What did all of this mean for Zelda?

I've been waiting to get this one out; I hope you enjoyed the read as much as I did writing it! Let me know what you think, as always!

Patch Notes:
 - Proto-"Blade of Evil's Bane" now detects evil correctly.
- Skyward Strike tutorial moved to more suitable location.
- Loftwings now react to the loss of their rider.
- "Forcing" sequence preventing the player from running away reconfigured to more character-appropriate variant, reflecting cutscenes.
- Max-level powers removed from Impa.
- Plot threads previously alluded to continue to appear.