Chapter 71: Last Rites
Rauru's face slammed against the stone floor of the temple. Pain erupted from his cheek and chin. His vision blurred as a weight pressed him against the ground. He winced, trying to piece together what happened. It all occurred so fast. He had been preparing to defend the sanctum with more chains of light, and then his head struck against the stones. And someone rolled him over. A woman, the young lady had struck him. And now she pinned him, wrenching his arm up so he couldn't move.
When was the last time someone attacked him? Even as a boy, he had avoided the rough horseplay of the other children. Just watching his father's bloody work in the butcher shop made him sick. Had he ever been in a fight?
Yet here he was, panting for his breath on the floor. The Gerudo shifted her weight on his back, and he let out a pathetic gasp. No denying it now, he was in a fight. A battle taking place in one of the most holy sites in all the world. A more terrible sacrilege he could not think of. How would one even punish such an act?
A knee pressed into his back and his other arm was winched around to match the first. His old bones could not bend that far. Another gasp of weakness escaped him.
His blurred vision returned, just in time to watch helplessly as the King of the Gerudo swatted aside Navi the fairy and walked into the Sacred Realm in triumph.
Rauru opened his mouth to say something, but he only could taste the iron of his blood. Even if he could speak, what was there to say? No words could describe the depth of his failure. For thousands of years, the Temple of Time guarded the Sacred Realm and the power contained within. Generations of priests dedicated their lives to maintaining the temple and safeguarding the secrets of the past. Preparing every one of them for this day, the day that the Chosen would reveal themselves. And all his preparation, all his training had been for nothing.
The Gerudo King brushed aside his magic as easily as swatting a fly. A spell Rauru had once been so proud of, that he had hoped would be all he would ever need to defend his temple. Binds of golden light that no mortal power could destroy, and yet, King Dragmire broke the unbreakable. And before he could even think of what else to try, he had already lost. Rauru never in his darkest nightmares imagined that this would be the end of things. The fate of the world was not decided by his knowledge, his faith, or even his magic. No, he lost because of his inability to act after being struck.
The Goddesses must be so ashamed of him.
The Gerudo warrior got off him, grabbed him by the front of his robes, and pulled him to his feet. "Listen to me, priest," she said, pressing her sword against his chest. "I've fought beside my king for several years. I know what it looks like when he prepares to cast a spell. You so much as twitch in a way I don't like I will run you through. Now, I don't much want to do that. And I'm certain you don't want that either. So, you are going to stay absolutely still."
Though she spoke, and Rauru could understand each word, somehow their meaning didn't reach him. She had attacked him. And he lost.
As a young acolyte, he had dreamed of being the one to guide the Chosen to the divine. But he never truly believed it would be him. In the light of day, he never wished it to be. Let others come after him to live in important times. Let heroes write their names in the annals of history. All he wanted was to help, to be a footnote. After Father Hinton returned to the Golden Three the position of High Priest was passed to his faithful assistant Father Rauru who did his duty for forty years and was remembered fondly. That's all his legacy should have been.
He could never live up to the challenges of gods and the great sway of fortune upon the world. No matter how he practiced, how he prayed, how well-learned he became, he was still only the son of a butcher who happened to draw the attention of the last High Priest of Time. He was not a lord, nor the descendant of an honored prophet, nor from the lineage of some great hero. No one important, he never should have been anyone important.
Just a priest. That's all he wanted to be, a good priest.
"You hear me, voe?" The Gerudo slapped him in the face, and another spike of pain tore through him. "He's out of it. Here, give me a gag and rope."
"No," rasped another of the Gerudo, a heavy-set woman with a cane in one hand and a dagger in the other. "I like to hear them beg as we cut them."
"This one knows magic," the one that slapped him said. "And we're in a temple. We're not going to cut them."
"You do not make orders of me. You have no say in what I will or won't do." The woman leaned down to stare Rauru in the eyes. When he tried to look away, she grabbed him with the same hand she held the knife. The flat of the blade pressed into his cheek, but it was her grip that stung. He had no choice but to stare into the eyes of furious madness. "During the war, I burned down temples like this one all across the kingdom. Used to lock the priests inside as I set the flames, sometimes alone, sometimes with others. They burned as hot as anyone else. Screamed just as loud. How loud will you scream, I wonder?"
Still clutching him, she rolled her hand across his jaw and with it turned the knife. The edge of the blade cut into him, hot blood dripped from the wound down his cheek and into his mustache. Rauru groaned as it dripped over his split lip and into his mouth. All the while, the woman's leer grew wider.
"Enough of that," the one that tackled him said. "You won't be burning any of this lot. They're our prisoners. They fought, it finished quick I'll admit, but they didn't surrender while they had some fight left in them. That earns them their lives, that's Gan's way."
"He'll make an exception for these three," the older one laughed. "Especially the princess. There's no saving her, that I guarantee you." Her grip loosened as she turned to the other prisoners. "Hear that brat? Tonight, you die. Maybe I'll place your head next to your father's? You'll decorate our new castle gate. As pretty as you are, I bet you'll look all the sweeter with a pike through your neck and no tongue! I'll never more have to listen to you prattle."
Finally able to move his head, Rauru looked to the princess and Lady Impa. Both slouched at the base of the stairs, already bound in ropes. Their hands tied and the princess gagged. The last of the three Gerudo stood behind them both, finishing their binds and prodding them with the edge of her sword. "I'm sorry," he said to the child. "I should have-"
"Found your wits?" The old Gerudo whirled back to him, and her grip re-tightened. "Begging, are you?"
She wrenched his gaze away from Zelda. But the child could still hear him. "I should have been better. I trusted the protection of this sanctum when I should have trusted your wisdom."
The woman struck him in the stomach with her cane and threw him to the floor. He sputtered and coughed as he fought once more to breathe.
"Pathetic, the lot of them. Can't even beg well. Let's finish this quick, Makeela go slit the princess's throat."
"I told you we're not doing that. At least not until Ganondorf returns."
As the pair bickered, Rauru turned his face away from them. He whispered the words of power for his greatest spells. But it did him no good. The hours spent healing the wounded had taken their toll, and when King Dragmire shattered his spell, it broke what power he still held. Perhaps if he could reach the artifacts, he could use one of them to channel his spells. But there was no way he could reach them before the Gerudo stabbed him as he fled.
He shut his eyes and whispered. "Golden Three, please forgive me. Nayru, I have been foolish, ignoring the dangers of the world. Farore, my courage has faltered; I am afraid of these women and what they will do. Din, I am…weak. Please, blessed ones do not abandon me, though I have failed you."
The Goddesses did not answer. Even with the Sacred Realm open before him, no divine retribution came forth. No holy word to wipe the temple clean. No judgment to punish the wicked. No sign. Nothing.
It never should have been him. Of course, the Goddesses wouldn't listen to him. What had he done to prove himself worthy? It should have been the fierce Father Gisrolb, who kept the temple safe during the burning of Castle Town a century ago. Or the legendary Mother Minra, the Grand Collector whose knowledge of magic knew no rival. Or even his own mentor, Father Hinton. There had been a wise and mighty scholar, with the conviction to act, whatever was required of him. All the qualities Rauru only played at.
Anyone but him.
A tingling energy started at his cheek and crept through his entire body. At first a trickle, but it flowed deeper and deeper until he felt as if one of his own students offered him their magic. He opened his eyes and saw a faint blue light just before him.
"Make use of it," the fairy said, as she nestled by his shoulder and pressed her tiny hands to his neck. Through her touch, Rauru's strength returned.
"You start begging?" The elder Gerudo laughed. "Speak up, I don't want to miss it. Let's hear you pray for your gods to smite me down. That's what you were doing, eh? That I should fall over and die? Or are you more creative? Got a way you want me to go, specifically? There was one that prayed I'd burn in holy fire. But no fire ever came. Well, except my own." She took him by the shoulder and pulled him back to his feet.
Rauru breathed deep and called the power to him. Forming it within him before he spread his hands and fingers wide. Chains of light swirled through the air. Shackles formed around the two Gerudo nearest him. Their hands, arms, and ankles all surrounded by shimmering gold. The chains went tight, pulling the two of them into the air.
The younger of the two roared and struggled against the binds. The old Gerudo chief howled. "The princess! Kill the princess!"
"Nayru!" Rauru called upon spells he had never dared to use. Decades ago, Father Hinton warned him of these spells and the power they required. Together they prayed he would never have need of them, but if there was ever a time to call upon the spells of the goddesses, it was now. "Let your love protect those in peril!"
The unbound Gerudo swung her sword down at the bound princess. The girl's eyes were wide in pure terror. With her gag, unable to even scream.
The blade stopped a finger's width away from the back of the girl's head. A gleaming blue light shimmered between the sword and the princess' golden hair. The warrior struck again, but with each attempt, the blade only rang against the blue shield that surrounded Zelda.
Lady Impa freed her hands from the binds. She stood, a long-bladed knife in her hand as she moved to strike the Gerudo. Rauru was no warrior, but a dagger did not seem like much of a weapon against a sword.
"Farore!" Rauru called. "Let your winds carry the meek to safety!"
A swirling green gale encompassed the Sheikah, the princess, and the Golden Harp of Hylia that lay at her feet. For a moment Rauru saw the princess reach toward him, tears dripping down her face before the billowing covered her. As quick as it came, the winds dispersed. The princess and her guardian were gone.
The Gerudo chief's screams sent shivers down Rauru's spine. There were no words, but she did not need them to convey her rabid desire for his blood.
The other chained Gerudo still shouted orders. "Forget the princess! Get the priest! Don't let him talk!"
The last of the Gerudo warriors advanced on Rauru. He backed away struggling to come up with some more energy to cast his spells. But there was nothing left. No matter how he dug he could not find enough magic within him to even light a candle, much less face a trained warrior. But this had been a proper end. He saved the princess, and from her, there was hope that Hyrule would not fall. Not completely. Not tonight.
But once more, a little voice whispered in his ear. "For Link."
A final surge of energy burst through him before the fairy's hands slipped and the fairy collapsed on his shoulder. But all she gave had been enough for one spell. The most destructive one he knew. "Din!" He shouted. "Let your flame burn away the unrighteous!"
"Stop him! Throw your sword!" the chained Gerudo yelled before he finished the spell.
Fire.
Screeching.
Heat.
Rauru feared he miscast it, and his own body became the kindling. Flame so bright all he could see was reds and yellows and searing white. It flashed before him, but when the fires died and Rauru saw what he wrought, he wished for the flames to return. All that remained of his assailants were two charred corpses still hanging from golden chains, the last could not even be called a corpse, just scattered ashes strewn across the floor.
"I – I – I –," he collapsed. Why couldn't he breathe? No, he was breathing. Huge gulping breaths that did nothing but cause spurts of pain through his chest. His heart pounded louder and faster than when he feared being killed. He tried to clutch at his chest, but his trembling limbs hardly moved. Nothing would stop shaking.
"Rauru?" The little blue light climbed up his shoulder onto his chest. Her wings flapped, though weak and slow.
"I never - I-" He whispered through heaving breaths and clattering teeth. "I'm a priest." He turned from the two corpses hanging from golden chains, only to realize his feet scraped across the ashes of the third. He pulled his legs back to his chest, leaving streaks of black dust.
"I know," the fairy said. "Look at me. Watch my light, try to match your breathing with me." Her faint blue light grew brighter, deeper. She held that intensity for a moment before dimming lower than when she started.
"Breathe in," he told himself as the fairy's light grew again. Just as he instructed all his students. Just as his master instructed him. Focus on your breathing. Go slow. Be precise. Calm down. "Breathe out."
The patient fairy stayed with him, lighting and dimming herself a dozen times or more before his heart slowed down, and his lungs stopped aching. Even when his breathing returned to normal, it took even longer for his arms to stop shaking. "Thank you, gentle Navi."
"Those spells, I've never seen anything like that. Where did you send them?"
"In truth, I do not know. But away from here, where they should be safe. What of you? Can you fly? Can you find safety yourself?"
"No. Not until I rest near some powerful magic. And even after, I wouldn't go," the fairy shifted about, so she looked toward the wall of black flame and the Door that stood behind it. "I won't leave him again."
"I can't promise he is safe."
"He's alive," the fairy's voice left no room for argument. "I can feel him. He is… near, and yet so far. I can't explain it."
Rauru nodded and scooped the blue light into his hands before he got to his feet. Careful not to disturb the dead. "I have an idea. But it may be hard for you."
She gave a haggard gasp of a laugh. "I'll suffer through it."
Rauru could only shake his head and marvel at her. Accepting unknown tribulations without question, without hesitation. Heroes all of them. The princess, the boy, the Needle, and now the fairy. They were the ones that these difficult times needed. He would do his best to live up to their example. He carried her away from the smell of burnt flesh, and the sickening feeling of ash in the air into the furthest part of the temple and the vault where all the greatest magical treasures of the realm were stored.
She gasped as they entered. Moving to the tip of his thumb, she leaned out to get a better look at the arrangement of artifacts.
"This is incredible."
"Will this sustain you?"
"For years."
"Let's hope it will not take that long." Rauru carried her past the dread mask and the cape of roc's feathers to the silvered bow. He placed his hand beside it and let the fairy crawl from his thumb to the weapon. "Whatever happens, King Dragmire must not obtain any of these. Should he return and discover you, you must be willing to destroy them all. Is that within your power?"
"I think."
"That is not good enough, Navi. This is not the time for modesty. Can you destroy them?"
"I can absorb the magic from them, render them useless. I can… I can start a small fire on the books. Not like the one you made, but it should work."
"That will have to do." He picked up one of the weaker of the relics, a small wand with a polished red stone at its tip, meant to ease the creation of illusions. It would have to do. "I'm going to seal the room, hopefully, no one will be able to find it. For you, this will be a simple door. But do not open it unless your boy returns. Once you do, my spells will no longer work."
"I understand."
"Then I pass my charge onto you, my final duty. Guard these treasures so that they cannot be used for evil. The realm may fall tonight, but its people remain. And these must not be used against them."
"They won't be."
"Then, I can only wish you well. May the Goddesses ease your suffering. And may Link return to you unharmed." He closed the door.
Once he could no longer be seen he pressed his forehead to the door and took a deep breath. Goddesses guide my hand.
Straightening, he raised his wand and began to weave the spells into being. The wand could make simple illusions with ease, but he needed something more powerful. Deeper and stronger than a glamour.
He released the wand's magic in small bursts to shape what he wanted from it. First, he bound an enchantment around the door so that it could only be opened from within. Then he used the wand as a stylus and etched magic runes of protection onto the door and nearby walls. They turned as sturdy as Goron steel, so no axe nor sword could ever pierce them. He placed charms to divert any attempts to scry within the walls, so they revealed nothing but dirt and stone. Every protection he could think of until the wand was near spent. Then last, he used the wand for its intended purpose and spread the image of a simple wall across the door.
Stepping back, he examined his work and nodded. Now there was only one last thing that could reveal the secret entrance.
He returned to the portal to the Sacred Realm, and once more looked over his handiwork strewn across the room. If only there had been another way to save the princess and keep the remaining secrets of the temple hidden. He had killed them. They were gone, he was a murderer, and there was no changing that now.
Or was there? Of all the spells he had hoped to never cast, only one remained. A spell he warned his students to never use, the most dangerous spell of all. If he performed the Song of Time, he could rewrite everything. One day would be enough to set the world right again. Rauru sighed, and let the temptation pass over him. His final temptation, he supposed. None of the greatest mages in history had ever truly mastered the spell. Some few had been lucky a handful of times, but every story involving those proud enough to shape time ended with untold damage.
There was no harm in dreaming of some perfect world where all your mistakes were prevented. But that was a fantasy. To be alive is to make mistakes, and yet to go ever forward. All one can do is try to be your best self in whatever time you dwell, sins and all.
He snapped the wand in half and tossed it into the black fire. It sizzled to a crisp, consuming its magic and destroying any last lingering thoughts to abuse that magic and fix all the wrongs he beheld.
Those three deepest mistakes he could not return to life or change their stories. But he could do his best. For however little it would matter, he could not leave them. He would not let his last act be that of a killer.
He moved to one of the shackled corpses, he took hold of her charred flesh before he dispersed the magic that held her upright.
Her body was light, far too light to be a full person. And yet the weight of her felt heavier than any Rauru had held. He laid the body on the ground. He found an ash-covered sword warped by the heat and placed it over her chest. That was how he buried knights, perhaps the Gerudo did the same.
"You were named Makeela. I do not know all the rites of your people. I understand that your funerals involve singing. I am sadly not much of a singer, nor do I know the proper songs. But I will try. You seemed a loyal warrior. May you be judged by the nobility of your intentions rather than the destruction you have caused. I am sorry you now will never have the chance to learn from any mistakes you have made. Be at peace."
Next, he released the war chief and laid her out the same. He tried to pick up the remains of her cane to place across her chest, but it still smoldered with Din's Fire. Instead, he plucked her twisted knife from the ground and laid it upon her. "I did not know your name, but I listened when you spoke. I do not know what horrors you experienced that led you to become the woman you turned into. Was it the horrors of the desert, the terrors of war, or perhaps some other miserable experience that turned your heart to hatred? But whatever it may have been, may your rage be quenched. And may whatever comes from your soul in the next life be free from the chains of hate. Be at peace."
And last, he went to the ash that no longer bore the shape of a person. He sat down beside it and lowered his head. "Of you, I have no name, nor words. I know you followed an evil master, but not the life that led you to them. I hope that your end was painless. I do not know if any who finds us will even recognize you as a person to sing over. Please accept this song. It is the best I can do."
He cleared his throat and thought of the first funeral he ever officiated; an old man named Clento, who passed in his sleep after weeks of illness. Rauru had stood before the family to help them grieve, all while Father Hinton sat in the back pew nodding to him as he worked. Then he thought of the first child he failed to save. How he sat at her bedside day and night, despite his magic's continuous failure to work. He broke down in tears when they lowered her beneath the earth.
And last he thought of his final day, of trying his best to keep all who sought him safe. He had never been much of a singer, but he had led songs of prayer for most of his life.
On this night, on this night
When wind snuffs out the candle's flame
And strength has fled away
Love shall guide thee
Through the shadows that blind
On this night, on this night
Cold to roam through the lands unknown
Thy knowledge now dismay'd
Love shall guide thee
Thy soul no more confined
On this night, on this night
Fear not the lands in shadows lay
For mercy, thou wilt find
Love shall guide thee
Where evil ne'er shalt bind
He stopped before the next verse. It mentioned Hylia and her judgment directly. The Gerudo did not believe in her sorting of souls and offering of reincarnation. They likely would not appreciate having her name sung over them now. He rose to his feet. "I hope the three of you find peace."
Rauru had not noticed when the black fire behind him dispersed, nor when the man returned through the Door of Time. How long has he been standing there? The figure loomed over the portal to the Sacred Realm. Rage etched across his face, and his right hand bore the symbol of the Three and their Chosen.
"Who did this?" The man went to the first corpse, the one called Makeela.
"Only me."
"And where is the Princess?" the monster snarled.
"Somewhere safe."
"Don't be so self-satisfied. You have not won."
"Do I look satisfied to you?" Rauru sighed. "The kingdom is yours. I cannot stop you. But someday, someone will."
The Last of the Chosen raised his sword, and all Rauru could do was bow his head and whisper one last prayer to the Three, hoping that he had done enough.