Hello readers, new and old! I hope you enjoy the remake of my unfinished story, The Search for Light.
Prologue
Deep in a red-rock canyon, in the shadow of the great Death Mountain, a usually sleepy little village bustled with excitement early one fall morning, its residents gathering around an old school building that had once fallen into ruin over time, recently restored with love and care. The village of roughly fifty, the majority of them elders, gathered around the entrance of the school, where their town's leader and shaman, Renado, stood and addressed the masses. He stood tall, his wide shoulders thrown back with pride as his dark eyes drank in the beauty of a village united. He'd taken special care to don an old ceremonial tunic, passed down from generations of leaders before him, and pulled his locs high atop his head in accordance with old traditions that were rarely exercised in the modern day.
It was this commitment to tradition that made him such a popular and beloved leader amongst his small village, and what allowed him to organize them to accomplish a truly monumental task: restoring the old school for their future generations.
The eldest child of their village, a young girl named Isha, had reached her sixteenth birthday and had already proven to be an excellent teacher to the younger ones. She had been the first child born in Kakariko in thirty years, Renado's own daughter Luda only a few months behind. The pair had naturally fallen into caretaker roles as more children were born through the years, breathing hope into the once-fading village.
Because of this, Renado had convinced the others dwelling in the village to join together and restore the school as a birthday gift for her. No longer would she have to teach the children out in the elements, ducking into the nearest shop when dust storms interrupted daily lessons. Their village would continue with the next generation, and the oldest were certainly fit to help the rest grow up into fine young adults. It would be a fantastic gift, he'd told the city council in a meeting, that would not only give Isha a solid place as a respected adult within the community for decades to come, but it would equally benefit the growth of the village and ensure their families would see many, many more years of beautiful Kakariko life.
The young woman of the hour stepped up to the podium he stood behind, her green eyes shining and brows furrowed with anxiety as she mustered a weak smile and accepted the handshake offered to her. Brushing her long light hair from her face, she turned to face the audience. At her side, her hands clutched the fabric of her skirt tightly, and she focused on the feeling between her fingers. Right, she could do this. Just smile and be grateful..
"This is…something I could have never imagined," she began, her shaky voice carrying over the gathered crowd. "I truly have no words…" She gulped and balled her sweaty hands into fists as though the proper words for her speech could be grabbed from the air at her side. "T-thank you for your efforts. I will… will do my best…to make all of you p-proud."
Encouraging applause spread throughout the villagers, despite her stammering. She looked back at Renado, silently begging him to take back over.
"Of course, I know this is a lot, we would not expect you to get to work immediately. It is your birthday, after all!' He smiled and clasped a hand on her shoulder. "Your coming of age feast will be held in the clearing at the Spring of Eldin this evening. As is our tradition, all of you are invited to join us for delightful food, plentiful wine, and even live music. We look forward to celebrating further with you." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the crowd.
The townspeople dispersed, a blur of muted, dusty colors as they milled off to go about their day, leaving as quickly as they had gathered. Their murmured conversations faded into the background, though Isha hardly noticed. Her mind was still reeling from this sudden gift, baffled that the adults in the town would trust her with such a responsibility. Her watching over the younger kids was nothing new, but it had never been anything so official, nothing she was paid for or given a title to. She thought the villagers still resented her for refusing to give up her weapons.
The young girl sighed and fell to her knees in the dirt, tears welling up in her eyes. These peaceful villagers made their disdain for battle and war and weaponry in general incredibly clear, and had for as long as she could remember. Her father, a retired Hylian soldier, was not welcomed kindly into the pacifist community when he'd married her mother and moved to the canyon almost twenty years prior. When he produced the first child of Kakariko in over three decades, though, the family was treated with some great respect despite a difference of opinions.
The circumstances of her birth had put her in the spotlight in her small community, even when Renado's daughter was born just a few months later. The religious leaders of the village only cared about the symbolism of the first-born after thirty long, barren years.
She still didn't quite understand why they felt it was so special. The only thing it had gotten her was the responsibility of caring for and watching over everyone born after her. At least, that was until the village decided to give her a job, a home of her own, and solid start to adulthood.
This gift was beyond anything she would have expected, and she could not ignore the passion and effort that must have gone into the restoration project. Previously hardly more than free-standing walls and dilapidated floors, the town had reinforced the structure with massive logs that likely took at least four strong adults to haul in. The floor and ceiling were rebuilt using thatch and clay, giving it protection from most of the elements while still providing upwards ventilation for hot days. The front entrance boasted newly-finished stone stairs and a sculpted railing that met the front columns supporting the porch roof in a swirling pattern. No-doubt the work of Mutoh, the town's finest carpenter and, as of the last few years, quite an avid stone-carver, as well.
She wanted desperately to be thankful for this gift beyond measure and the trust that the townspeople held in her to teach their future generations, but just the sight of the school broke her heart to pieces. She had never once been asked if she'd want to be a mentor to the younger ones. She had never once expressed any special interest in doing anything that would establish her within this sleepy village. No, she had never wanted to stay.
Her role as town babysitter hadn't been intentional, either. Her father had told her of the importance of knowing how to protect oneself against the ever-growing monster presence in Hyrule. She feared for the future of a village that refused to fight, and instead depended on the kindness of distant neighbors for defense. She'd begun teaching the younger kids how to fight using basic staff skills, just as her father had taught her - a very simple yet effective form of self defense.
Somehow, this had evolved into her watching over all the village kids, all day. Before she knew it, she was being asked to care for them, to teach them homemaking skills and to read to them, to pass on the knowledge she gained from the worn textbooks she'd purchased off the occasional traveling merchant.
"Oh, Isha, could you take little Mino to the park for me today?" "Semi needs to learn how to work the loom, could you teach her?" "I'm behind on laundry, could you drop everything you're doing and follow me to the spring and do it for me?" The requests were never ending, and she couldn't bring herself to be rude and say no.
Now, these demanding adults had built her a literal prison, disguised as a birthday gift.
Thoughts and doubts and fears swirled in Isha's head, threatening to drown out any common sense left within her. I have to stay, she repeated to herself again and again. I cannot spit in the face of such kindness. I am not fit to leave out on my own. The children need me, and they have not done anything to deserve being abandoned.
This village deserves a fighting chance, she'd once heard her father say. Even if they don't want it. It's better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it.
"There's nobody else in this town who would be willing to take up arms should the need ever rise," her defeated whisper disappeared in the morning wind. "Without me, the children will grow up just as defenseless as their ancestors."
Death Mountain trembled above as if in agreement. The thundering of shifting rock sounding to Isha an awful lot like the sound of her heart shattering as she admitted the horrible truth to herself:
"I will never escape this town."
—
The lively feast did little to alleviate the weight in Isha's heart, though she did her best to plaster on her usual smile for the villagers who cared so much. She was incredibly used to this expression, having mastered it early on as she shouldered request after request to babysit the younger kids, to keep them out of trouble, to help with their laundry or help with lunch or help, help help…
Isha bit the inside of her cheek, reminding herself that she needed to keep up appearances. The village people weren't malicious. They cared for her in their own way, and their efforts did not deserve to be met with a childish temper tantrum.
The smell of spices filled her nose, and she calmed herself by mentally listing all the scents she recognized. Rosemary. Garlic. Goron Spice. Tangy Kakariko Sauce.
The feast had been set within the Spirit's Forest, not too far from the bottom pool of Eldin Spring. Isha always felt as though calling it a "forest" was a bit generous - the trees were barely taller than the average Goron, and did not produce thick, leafy canopies. Instead, the spindly trees produced thin, sharp leaves in tufts at the end of its wild branches. They provided little in the way of shade, but were interesting in their own right to look at. They referred to them as Eldin Trees, their branches said to be reaching high into the sky in praise of the Great Light Spirit who guarded their province.
At night, when not laced with bright lanterns, the thin branches left plenty of the starry sky visible from the ground, making for a unique stargazing experience. Isha had the fleeting thought that, if anyone had bothered to ask her, she would have preferred to celebrate under the light of only stars. But, nobody had asked her anything.
The various courses were delivered in waves, giving everyone plenty of time to finish the first dish before moving on to the next. As she took in her surroundings, Isha wondered for the thousandth time that night if this traditional coming-of-age celebration was more for her or for the villagers. Wine kegs surrounded the circle of massive tables draped in white cloth and adorned with the village's collection of gorgeous community dinnerware, said to have been passed down through tens of generations of Kakarikan leaders. All sorts of dishes made with steamed vegetables, glistening fruits, and seasoned meat were passed around by volunteer waiters and waitresses, wide grins plastered on their faces. The town's musicians had even gotten together to learn a few of the old traditional songs for the night's entertainment, and the atmosphere was alight with celebration.
The noises, the lights, and the sounds of numerous conversations muddled together. All of it echoed around the young woman's head, bouncing off the walls of her mind to the beat of her rapid heartbeat. No amount of counting spices or seconds or naming weapons or historical places was distracting enough. A scream was building deep within her lungs. She let out a particularly loud laugh at one of her mother's jokes that she didn't really hear in an effort to take the pressure off.
Sometime between the presentation of roast cuccoo and pan-seared Hylian Bass, Isha realized that, finally, it seemed everyone's attention had left her. Taking advantage of this, she quickly slipped out of her chair and left the circle of lights, heading for the nearby spring path in a desperate attempt to escape the village that so lovingly trapped her.
When the lights were far enough away and the music faded into nothing more than crickets chirping and frogs croaking, Isha finally allowed her emotions to come to the surface. She leaned against one of the sparse tree trunks around her as sobs wracked her body. She banged one of her fists into the trunk, ignoring the searing pain that followed.
It's not fair, it's not fair, her thoughts wailed. How could they do this to me? I shouldn't be here, I should be leaving, I should–
"Isha…" a voice spoke through the darkness, the tinkling sound of bells ringing on every syllable and interrupting her thoughts. Isha whirled around, scanning the treeline for faces or lantern lights. She quickly brushed away the tears from her face. Far off above the waters of the spring, she noticed a strange, dim glow that reflected in a sphere upon the glassy surface.
Worried someone had witnessed her breakdown, she called back to the voice. "Who's there?"
She did not receive a response, but the dim light ahead began to move, gliding through the air towards the shoreline away from her. Isha cautiously stepped deeper into the trees, trying to get a clear view of the source of the light. Somehow it stayed just out of her vision, a trailing golden tail her only lead. Her long Hylian ears twitched as she listened for any unnatural sounds. Footsteps, breathing, anything - nothing met her enhanced hearing. Cursing herself for not having her bow or staff on her, Isha debated turning around and leaving this strange place.
But who said my name? She wondered. It had been a voice unlike anything she'd heard before. Was it even Hylian?
Her love of adventure and mystery spurred her onwards, and Isha made the choice to chase after the strange light and discover its source. She bolted into a run, focusing on the light and using its silhouette to avoid the trees ahead. Branches scratched at her arms and thorns pulled at her hair, but she stayed determined despite growing no closer to her target.
Finally, she broke through the treeline and found herself clear on the other side of the spring's lower pond, so far from the feasting villagers that she could barely see the string lights in the trees. Before her loomed a gaping cave opening, which should have been pitch black at this time of evening. To her surprise, the cave appeared to be lit from within.
Isha continued fearlessly into the mysterious cave, which sloped upwards into the canyon walls instead of descending into the earth as she'd expected. She also observed that the deeper she went, she could not find a single torch or other source of light. It was almost as though the walls themselves were glowing.
Fascinated at such a mystical place hiding in her very hometown, Isha began running her hands across the walls. Slick, wet clay met her hands and stained them red. She looked at her palms, unsure of what she was expecting. There was no trace of the glow in the red mud coating her hands.
"Isha…" The voice sounded far closer this time, leading Isha to nearly jump out of her skin. It was not a voice she recognized at all, and hardly sounded human. The tinkling bells that accompanied it sounded unlike any chime she'd heard before. Her blood ran cold, despite the calming tones.
"Who are you?" her voice cracked, her throat dry from crying and running. She cleared her throat and spoke again. "Why are you calling out to me?"
Again, she was met with nothing but silence. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she again considered turning back from this strange occurrence. Strange things had long roamed the Kingdom of Hyrule, some of them good, some of them bad. Most of them were indifferent, which was far more terrifying. Thinking better of going into things unarmed, she turned back towards the entrance of the cave.
The way back, however, was dark.
Isha realized with alarm that the glow was slowly fading from the walls behind her, the natural dark of the cave drawing closer at an agonizing, slow pace. She could not see the entrance from here, nor could she see where the path she followed would take her.
She made the quick decision that whatever may wait at the other end of the tunnel, being alone in the pitch dark was far more terrifying. She turned back uphill and continued climbing through the cave, still straining to listen for the voice once again.
Finally, she turned a corner and found herself entering a huge, dome-like chamber. Moonlight poured in from the caved-in ceiling above, replacing the soft yellow glow she'd followed so far. Beams of silver sliced through the natural dark of the cave, illuminating the walls just enough that she could see intricate, foreign patterns carved into massive gray rocks that stood as monoliths against the red mud surrounding them. The cave itself was silent, save for the sound of what Isha assumed was a small stream splashing against the rocks somewhere unseen.
Her jaw dropped at such a discovery. She had never heard of any magnificent or noteworthy caves in the canyon, and especially not so close to the main settlement. She approached one of the large gray stones and traced the carved swirls, her fingertips dipping in and out of pockmarks left by the elements. She marveled at the smooth, precise carvings despite their porous canvas and wondered who had left such markings, and why.
By the moonlight, she carefully made her way over to another boulder across the room, this one appearing to be much smaller. She carefully tested each stone before putting her full weight, her steps soft and light as if she may trigger a cave-in at the slightest noise…
Her right foot came down and met no resistance. Isha stumbled, gasping loudly and twisting her body around, trying to fall backwards instead of over the ledge she'd just found. She crashed down hard on her left side, her knee colliding with her own ribs and sucking the air from her lungs. Limbs flailing, she scrambled back from the edge and collapsed to her stomach, gasping for air. Mud coated the side of her body and hair, but she hardly registered its cold touch.
Once she realized she was safe on solid ground, she pulled herself together once again. Wiping her face on a clean part of her arm, she climbed on all fours back towards the hidden edge.
The room was far larger than she'd thought, and she was far higher up than she'd thought. Bathed in the full glow of the moon, Isha recognized the glimmering waters of the sacred Spring of Eldin beneath her, bubbling up into a massive pool from deep within the mountain. The "small" stone she'd been headed towards was actually one of the tallest, reaching all the way from the pool below to above the cliff she crouched over. Her heart fluttered as she drank in the ethereal beauty before her, strange voices and lights and glowing walls all but forgotten.
She recognized she was staring down at the headwaters of their town's most sacred landmark, and realized these carved stones likely all a part of some ritual long-forgotten to time. If she jumped in and followed the water splashing over the edge of the pool below, she knew she would find herself at Upper Eldin Falls, which had been inaccessible to most for decades thanks to a horrible rockslide that filled in the narrow trench that separated the town from the head of the spring.
How long had it been since anyone had visited the spring's beginning? She sat back on her knees and took in the cave once again, now able to properly assess its size. She marveled at nature's work and silently thanked what lucky stars she had left that she was able to find such a remarkable place - and with a fairly easy path to it, no less!
Her heart felt light once again, and she wondered how many undiscovered treasures lay within the walls of Kakariko Canyon. She became lost in thought, dreaming of the bandits that may have once made such a place their home, stashing away their stolen riches and daring any lawman worth their salt to come and take it back from them. Her father had been such an adventurer, once - a sellsword, but one to combat the thieves and bullies rather than one out for the blood of innocents.
Dad would love this place… the thought hurt more than she'd expected it to. Six years, he'd been gone. There were still days where she felt the pain as strongly as the day she lost him.
She had no time to dwell on such sad thoughts, however, as the mysterious, chiming voice called her name once again. It might as well have been spoken directly into her ears, for how close and clear it sounded. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for hiding places, but quickly found that to be unnecessary.
Surrounded by moonlight, the strange golden light from before hovered above the drop into the spring's pool, sparkles orbiting it like fireflies to a pond. Again, the hair on the back of her neck stood, but she rose to her feet and cautiously stepped forwards regardless.
"...You aren't… There's no way…" she whispered, her breathing shallow. The village elders passed down stories of mythical beings with great, divine powers that protected each of the provinces of Hyrule, and in turn had those provinces named after them. Eldin was their protector, if all of that was true. It was also said that, in the days of old, these Light Spirits gave blessings to noble adventurers and heroes, providing them with strength beyond measure to overcome those that threaten the peace of Hyrule.
But those are all just legends, right?
"Is it true that you seek adventurers?" she dared to hope, dared to trust those old legends. "Please… All I've ever wanted is to see the world. To travel, like my dad did, and to protect those who cannot protect themselves." She took a step closer to the edge, but the spirit did not respond. "I ask - I beg - for your blessing, Eldin. Please. Give me the strength to leave this place."
She stood at the very edge of the cliff, staring down the myth before her. As the seconds passed, her fragile hope began to crack. She took a breath to say more, but something unseen took her hand, its embrace gentle and warm, and pulled her forwards, beckoning her to reach out for the spirit. She followed its guidance, her breath catching in her throat.
With a bright spark, a much smaller orb of light flung itself away from the main body and struck her palm. The force of the blow was unexpected and she staggered back, though it did not hurt. She stared at her open palm, mouth agape as the light disappeared beneath her skin. Once the glow faded, so did the unnatural warmth.
She whipped her face back to the spirit floating before her. "Is that a yes?" she whispered. "I– I don't feel any different."
Infuriating silence. "What is this? What did you do to me?" she demanded again.
The being still did not answer her. Isha felt her blood boil, heartbreak turning to rage. "If you can make weird light shows and dance across the forest and call my name, you can certainly answer me!"
Every second spent in silence, waiting for a response and an adventure that would not come, only worsened her already-sour mood. She tried to grasp for patience, to wait for this supposed great spirit to respond, but yet nothing changed.
Reason finally left her entirely. Isha flung herself over the edge of the cliff, grabbing for the floating light. "Answer me!" she cried.
Her hand merely passed through the light as though it was nothing at all, and she plunged into the cold waters below.
Though normally an avid swimmer, the shock of the icy spring combined with her fatigue had her flailing wildly just to keep her head above the surface. The pool wasn't exactly large, but it was deceptively deep and she could not make out the shores from the waterfall dropoff in such dim light. The spirit had vanished, leaving her to struggle in the weak moonlight to find any sort of solid footing. The current leading downstream surrounded her limbs like coiling, icy talons and pulled further from the center of the pool, further from her only source of light in this dark pit.
"Dammit, you worthless spirit!" she spat as soon as she got a gulp of fresh air. Her arms and legs felt like lead, her waterlogged tunic attempting to drag her back into the undercurrent. As she struggled, her knee brushed against something sharp, and she recognized the feel of the same ceremonial rocks that were above her. Grasping blindly, her fingers slipped off the smooth rock surface and she cursed, lunging again through the water. This time, her grip remained and she was finally able to pull herself over to stable footing.
She cursed again and looked back at where the spirit last floated. "The elders think you're capable of blessing adventurers with great strength and purpose, they think you have the power to send people on adventures that will change them and take them to places unknown," she cried in the darkness. "So where is my adventure? I don't need a noble purpose, I just want to see the world the Goddesses created. Is that not enough for you? Why curse me to this miserable existence?" Her cries faded into the still air.
Nothing at all remained of the being that had taunted her with hope, and the walls no longer reflected its soft glow. She could hardly make out the silver outline of the cliff she'd jumped from, noting that it was easily four or five men tall.
She shuddered to think of what could have happened had the water been shallow.
A blue light began to shine in her peripheral vision, and she whirled her head around to see the stone she was clinging to begin to glow. Isha found herself frozen in awe as the blue light crept from deep beneath the waters and made its way up the ornate chiseling within the stone. Further downstream, another did the same, marking a shoreline and what appeared to be fairly flat land.
As her gaze drifted around, she realized that every stone like this was lit up in a similar manner, beautiful beacons amidst the gloom of the cave, illuminating a path that appeared to parallel the spring.
Isha sighed with relief. At least she would be able to find her way home, if she could keep her strength up despite the freezing cold.
"Of course, why would I put my faith in legends," she spat, beginning to make her way down the path. "You couldn't be bothered to protect my father, so why would I think you would care about my woes?"
With a final irritated glance back at the headwaters of the spring, she braced herself for the lashing her mother would no-doubt give her when she saw her soaked clothes and left her dreams behind in the dark cave.
