Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction ❯ To Forge the Master ❯ Chapter 13 ( Chapter 13 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The ruby light swirled around him like smoke, twisting and dancing seductively. The sword still gripped in both hands began to pulse like a slow heartbeat, the ripples traveling through Link’s body. He felt himself relax into the comforting feeling, releasing his grip with one hand to lean back against the solid surface holding him up.

Link froze as his fingers slid along the hard, smooth surface. He shifted his weight, feeling the solid sinew coated in rounded, bony plates. Swallowing, he looked down. His sword was still impaled in the silver crown, but the jewel seemed to be missing. The very tip of the sword was embedded into a dark, red scale between two pale blue eyes.

“Andraste,” a voice drifted through the light. Link grabbed onto the sword with both hands as the dragon swung its head around. It was the strangest feeling; his senses told him he was not moving, yet the dragon flapped its wings, as if swimming through the light all around them; all the while seemingly oblivious to Link and the sword stuck into the scale on its head.

Then, through the light she appeared. Her hair was bobbed, shorter than his own, and black as the volcanic walls. Eyes the color of rubies burned from the inside out. She was dressed in a man’s tunic, leggings, and boots – all in red and black. A sword hung from her hip. She even had a boyish build, and if the tunic were any looser she could have easily fooled anyone at a glance.

She lifted her hand and the dragon “flew” straight to her, nuzzling its nose on her palm like a happy puppy. Link stared, hands still firmly gripping the hilt of his sword – which was pulsing stronger and faster in the presence of the Fire Spirit.

“I have missed you too, little one,” she said as she stroked the dragon’s snout. Then she looked up at Link. “And you must be the Hero of Hyrule my sisters spoke of. Humph, kind of puny.” She stepped around the dragon’s head and peered up at him with a gaze that strangely reminded him of Sheik. “Well, get the sword out of Andraste’s head and get down here. She is free now and you have nothing to fear.”

Link complied, and though he floated down to the Fire Spirit’s level, he did not feel as if his feet were touching anything. The spirit was tall, looking him eye to eye as she sized him up. The sword was pulsing harder than ever before, sending ripples through him. It was not feeling in his muscles or bones, but in something ethereal and intangible.

“You will do,” the spirit said after a long moment. Link swallowed hard, feeling himself begin to sweat. “I have no riddle for you. My sister can be found watching over the people of the wind.” She reached out and placed her hand on his cheek as the light began to swirl around his sword, forcing him to look into her fiery eyes. “And for saving my precious Andraste from her prison, I give you this gift. You may call on her once, and only once, in a time of need.” The spirit turned back to the dragon and placed a soft kiss on her nose. “Be sure he makes it down the mountain safely, little one.”

Whatever else transpired, Link did not see it. The pulsing was starting to rip through him in almost painful waves. The intangible essence felt like it was tearing him in two. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. Each new pulse made lights flash behind his eyelids. Then the ethereal part of him shattered – painfully – like throwing a rock through a glass window.

As soon as it began it was over, and Link pried his eyes open. The light was swirling faster now, wrapping around the sword like a crimson cloth. Beyond the light he could see the volcano coming back into focus, and underfoot he could feel the solid rock. The Fire Spirit, who was also fading away, gave the dragon one last hug around the muzzle before turning back to him.

Link found it still took all his energy just to cling to the sword. He turned his head to watch her, his hair plastered to his forehead by sweat, and she gave him another very Sheik-like grin.

“Don’t disappoint me. Hyrule is resting on your scrawny shoulders.”

He nodded in return as she faded into the light that wrapped around his sword. The blade glowed a bloody crimson before returning to its normal mirror-bright shine. Link relaxed and sank back against the dragon’s neck. She looked at him with her bright blue eyes.

“Hero?” Sheik’s voice cut in wearily. “You know you are leaning against a dragon, right?”

“Yap,” He smiled back, “This is Andraste; she’s our ride home.” Link could only laugh at Sheik’s skeptical expression. “Don’t worry, she’s safe. I promise.” The dragon snorted and nudged Link with her nose, tumbling him forward a few feet. Link laughed, “Okay, safe probably wasn’t the right word.”

“At least we agree on something.” Sheik frowned as he walked over to where Link was picking himself up. Link had barely sheathed his sword when Sheik smacked him on the back of the head, knocking his hat off. “Is your brain broken?! You called my sneak up and chop its head off plan bad, so what do you call yours?”

Link retrieved his hat, noticing that Sheik had neither sheathed his swords nor taken his eyes off the dragon. Andraste watched them without interest. “I’m alive. That’s the important part, right?” He ducked as Sheik took another swing at him. “Oh, come on, it’s just a dragon,” Link teased as he climbed onto Andraste’s back and got comfortable where her neck and shoulders met.
Sheik stared at him, crossing his arms so his swords hung loosely in his grasp. Andraste, obviously tired of the wait, snaked her head out and snatched Sheik up by his tunic. The surprised man did not even have time to retaliate before he was deposited behind Link. The younger man laughed, and received another slap to the back of his skull.
Ignoring them both, the dragon spread her wings and leapt into the air. Sheik cursed as he grabbed Link’s tunic. Link clung to one of the spikes. The wind buffeted them as they rose, nearly taking Link’s hat off and threatening to rip away Sheik’s scarf.

“If we live through this, I am going to kill you,” Sheik threatened.

Link only laughed. “Fine, but could you put those away so you don’t kill me before that?” He motioned towards Sheik’s twin blades. Grumbling, Sheik complied. The dragon made a banking turn, building up speed. After a couple of laps of the volcano, she shot straight into the air. Link let out a shout of excitement as adrenaline rushed through his blood, making him feel alive. Sheik shouted as well, but for an entirely different reason.

The dragon folded her wings and they slipped through the top of the volcano like a snake from its hole. The wings snapped open with a sound like two huge flags being unfurled, and they rose up in a smooth rush on the hot air seeping from the mountain.

The whole land of Hyrule suddenly stretched out before Link’s eyes. The rivers and streams glittered in the sunlight, trees cast dark shadows across the ground, Kakariko looked so small, and the people like ants. Even Hyrule Castle seemed small from this height.

The sword pulsed and Link’s vision shifted. The world of color became a monotone of reds. Every creature, great and small, lit up like a beacon in the night. The dragon, so close and large, almost blotted everything else out. Link glanced down and saw Sheik’s fingers, knotted in the shoulder of his tunic, were alight – shining as if they glowed from within.

It was so bright, that it a large blot of darkness drew his attention. The large blob bubbled up over faint glimmer of Lake Hylia, boiling and rolling like and angry like-like. Link stared, a strange sticky blackness creeping into his mind. Another pulse and the vision was gone, returning the world to its normal hues.

The dragon banked and turned down toward Kakariko. Link’s ears picked up the faint sounds of the masses screaming and the ant-sized people scurried towards their toy-sized houses.

“I think you better let us off outside the gate,” Link said. The dragon turned her head to look back at him and snorted. She made slow banking descent, circling Death Mountain in a methodical matter. On her final pass of the gate, she reared up, flapping her wings in fast short strokes, so she landed gently on the rocky surface. Link slid off without hesitation, and Sheik quickly followed.

The dragon snaked her head around, lowering one huge blue eye to look them over. Then she gently pressed her nose to Link’s forehead, blowing his hair with her hot breath. Be strong Little One, your journey is not yet over. She lifted her head and moved to Sheik. The older man backed up, reaching for his swords. But the dragon brushed his forehead and he froze. His eyes widened for a moment.

Then the dragon lifted her head, raised her wings, and rose into the sky. The wind she created made both Hyrulians cling to loose clothing. They watched as the dragon mounted the sky, took a final lap around Death Mountain, and flew off into the distance.

“What did she tell you?” Link asked as he shaded his eyes against the sun, trying to catch a final glimpse of the dragon. Sheik looked at him in surprise then averted his eyes.

“Let’s go, Hero. It’s been a long day and I could really use a warm bed.” Sheik turned away and headed down towards the gates. Link looked at him for a moment, then shrugged and followed.

The dragon had let them off as close to the gate as her size would allow. Still, they had a short walk back to the village nestled in the mountain’s shadow. When they arrived at the gate, guards were gathered on the other side, weapons drawn. They watched the two approach with wary eyes. Thinking they had seen the dragon, Link gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

The gate groaned as it swung open, admitting them back into the village. The guards pressed in as the gate shut with a metallic slam. The sword’s sharp pulse warned him a moment too late. Several guards grabbed him, slamming him against the sheer stone wall next to the gate. The impact made him bite his tongue and the coppery tang of blood filled his mouth. Too surprised to fight back, the guards took advantage of his distraction and twisted his arms painfully behind his back. Several sharp points were pressed threateningly against his cheek and neck. Somewhere behind him he heard Sheik curse.

Link twisted around enough to catch sight of Sheik. Two guards held his arms behind his back, while a third used a fistful of hair to keep his head up. Movement caught his attention and Link shifted to see Thorvald walking up the hill, Archelaus as his heels.

“Hey!” Link shouted. “Call these guys off.” Sheik said nothing, but glared over the top of his scarf at the approaching men. Neither of the nobles acknowledged Link’s request.

Without a word, Thorvald walked up to Sheik, grabbed his scarf and yanked it down in a single, rough motion. The scar on Sheik’s cheek was plainly visible as it cut a furrow across his face.

“I knew it!” Archelaus jeered.

Thorvald cast a sharp look at his son before turning back to Sheik. “Really, my boy, I thought you were smarter than this. Coming home of all places,” a mocking smile ghosted across his lips.

“I’m not your boy and this was never my home, you son of a bitch,” Sheik snarled back.
“And as petty and audacious as ever I see.” The noble grabbed Sheik’s chin and ran his thumb along the scar. “I see it continues to get you into trouble.” Sheik yanked his head free and snapped at the fingers that had strayed too near his mouth. Thorvald sneered and a guard struck Sheik for the offense, splitting his lip.

“Hey!” Link yelled in outrage. With all his strength he pulled free of the men holding him, spun, and slammed his fist into the nearest guard’s face. He pulled the punch, remembering just in time that he still had the gauntlets on, but still felt the bone break and blood run over his fingers. Another guard grabbed his arm and Link slammed his elbow into the man’s gut.

“Link! Stop that! Right now!” Sheik’s voice cut through the chaos. Surprised, Link stopped and the guards quickly swarmed around him, slamming his back to the wall before they piled on to hold him there. Link growled at them and began to struggle again. “I said stop it!” Sheik repeated. “Those men are just following orders. Don’t hurt them.”

“But–”

“I won’t have innocent blood spilt in my name, Hero.”

“That was beautiful,” Thorvald said in a bored tone.

“Fuck you.” Sheik spit, the fluid laced with blood, at the man’s feet.

Thorvald looked down his nose in disgust. “You are hereby charged with theft, resisting arrest, assault of a noble, and treason against the crown.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Sheik hissed.

“My son is the future king and–” Sheik’s mirthless laugh cut him off.

“As if Zelda would debase herself by marrying that–” Another punch to the jaw cut off whatever Sheik intended to say.

“As I’m sure you are well aware, she has very little say in the matter,” Thorvald replied pleasantly. “Enjoy your final hours. This night will find you at the bottom of the well. Take him away.” Sheik glared venomously, but went quietly. Archelaus laughed as he followed. The nobleman turned to Link for the first time since he had arrived, sizing the boy up with a wicked smile. “And see to it that the Hero of Hyrule makes it safely back to the inn.”

&&&

The guards all but shoved Link through the inn door. He slammed painfully into a table, knocking the wind from his lungs. His blood boiled and his jaw clenched as he turned around; even the sword pulsed angrily in its sheath. But the guards did not linger, leaving Link with his anger. Frustrated, he punched a table, forgetting the gauntlets again and smashing the table to bits.
Caru and George stood in the kitchen doorway, the innkeeper wide-eyed and his wife covering her mouth.

“Sorry,” Link muttered as heat rose to his cheeks. “I’ll pay for the damage.”

“Dear, what in the name of Nayru is going on?” Caru asked as she walked right past the destroyed table to look at him. He was surprised when she took the edge of her apron and gently dabbed the blood at the edge of his mouth.

“They arrested Sheik; said he was a thief!” The couple exchanged a look and he added, “He’s not, I know him!”

“Have you told Lord Thorvald this? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” George said simply.

“Thorvald is the one who had him arrested!” Link protested.

“Then... perhaps you don’t know him as well as you thought, dear.”

Link froze, then stepped away with a fierce glare. “You’re wrong.” He turned sharply on his heel and stormed out of the inn without another word. He walked around the back of the building to the stable, so caught up in his thoughts that the falcon lighting on his shoulder startled him. “Where have you been, you overgrown cuccos?” he asked bitterly and was rewarded with a nip to his ear. “Ouch! Sorry!” The falcon ruffled its feathers indignantly.

“Look,” Link huffed in return as he walked into Nightfire’s stall and began to tack him up, “I don’t know why you are following me, and right now I don’t really care. So why don’t you make yourself useful if you are going to hang around? Like find where they are keeping Sheik so I can bust him out and prove his innocence.” The falcon blinked round eyes at him, cried, and took to the sky. Link rolled his eyes and tightened Nightfire’s girth.

&&&

Sheik glared at the door across the room from him. The dungeon, if it could be called that, was rarely used in Kakariko and had long ago fallen into disrepair. In its place was a stone house, with small barred windows and a heavy door. A test had proven it was firmly locked with a drawbar.

He sighed as he leaned again the cold stone and rubbed his shoulder. The guards had been less than gentle about removing his weapons. He was pretty sure he had a cracked rib, and some blood dotted the side of his mouth.

Through the barred window he could see the sun sinking behind Death Mountain. As soon as the first star appeared his punishment would begin. He sighed and rubbed his head.

“So this is what it comes to...my life resting in Link’s hands.” He paused, then looked towards the sky hidden beyond the ceiling of stone. “Forgive me, Zelda. I don’t think I can keep my promise.”

He heard the scrape of wood on wood as the drawbar was moved and turned towards the door. The shadow of the mountain was just starting to creep across the village, casting everything into the dark blues of night. Sheik slid into a fighting stance, wincing from the pain in his side.

The door swung open and guards swarmed into the small room. Sheik was glad Link was not there to see him go down so quickly. One guard, who obviously knew about the injury to his rib, hit the wound before Sheik could retaliate, sending him to his knees in pain and gasping for breath. His arms were quickly bound behind his back and they hauled him to his feet.

The walk was short and the guards huddled around him, blocking his view of the village. Overhead, a raptor screamed into the fading day. A guard shoved him from behind and he stumbled forward onto a small platform. It was built to extend over the gaping mouth of the well. A hinge allowed it to drop down, out from under his feet, and a rope – run through a pulley overhead – kept it in place. Several sword points against his back kept him in place.

A small, curious crowd had gathered with Thorvald and Archelaus seated comfortably directly across from him. Sheik glared defiantly at them.

“You know the charges against you. Do you have any last words?” Thorvald asked in a dull tone.

“Rot in hell, you son of a bitch.”

“Then as the High Lord of the land of Hyrule, and eldest member of the family of Thorvald, I hearby sentence you–”

“Let him go!” Link demanded as he shoved his way through the gathered crowd.

Archelaus shrugged and smiled. “Well, you heard the Hero of Hyrule. Let him go.” The guard near the grounded end of the rope took an obedient swipe with his sword, cutting the rope easily. The boards under Sheik’s feet fell away and gravity took hold. Sheik swore.

Link’s eyes widened as he watched Sheik plummet out of sight. Archelaus was howling at his own joke and Thorvald looked torn between humor and annoyance. Link shoved past one last person and made a dash for the well. Several guards quickly formed ranks directly in his path.

Link ripped his sword from its sheath and pointed it at the men. “Move.” The blade practically glowed in the light of the moon as the heavenly body peeked over the mountains. The guards shuffled, one looking back at Thorvald. “Now!” Link barked.

“If the Hero wishes to throw himself down the well,” Thorvald said calmly, “who are we to stop him?” The guards quickly got out of his way and Link darted past, vaulting over the lip of the well and falling into the darkness beyond.

His feet hit the ground with a wet thwap and Link looked around. The inside of the well was inky, so dark not even his sword caught enough light to reflect. He could hear tiny clawed feet scurrying over wet stone and a distant, steady scraping he could not identify. Water dripped in rhythmic patterns that echoed in the deafening silence.

“Sheik?” Link whispered without knowing why. The sword in his hand was giving soft, sharp pulses, and the hair on the back of his neck and arms was on end. An eerie feeling of being hunted, as if a pack of wolves were circling just beyond the limits of his sight, was crawling over him.

“Link?” came the answer, also whispered and surprisingly close. Link turned slightly to his left and reached out with his free hand, smiling when it came in contact with a warm chest. “Quick, untie me.” It took them several minutes of blind groping to find each other in the pitch blackness, and another minute for Link to slip a dagger between Sheik’s skin and his bindings without drawing blood. All the while the strange scratching noise, like a stick being slowly dragged across a rough stone wall, grew closer. “Let’s get out of here,” Sheik hissed.

“Don’t we need a plan first,” Link asked in surprise. “There are guards up there, remember. You know, with swords and orders to kill.”

“This is neither the time nor place for you to get smart, Hero.” Sheik snapped.

“What are you afraid of? Slime? Water? New and incurable diseases?” The scraping stopped abruptly and a hollow almost silent scream echoed around them. A wave of sticky funk rolled through the air. Link whirled around, drawing his sword and forcing magic through it – lighting it up like a torch.

In the swirling light emitted from his sword, Link found himself staring into a sea of faces. Each had sunken cheeks and eyes, their bodies covered in leathery rotting skin. They were thin and bony, staggering forward in halting steps on weak legs. In place of eyes, they bore dull red lights from deep within their skulls.

Link froze. His brain screamed for him to move, to do anything, but his muscles locked up and refused to comply. He watched wide-eyed as a gnarled hand tipped in four jagged nails – and one missing nail – reached for his throat.

The sword pulsed sharply, sending a shockwave through his body. The effect was like a splash of cold water; every sense awoke with a start. He struck out with the sword, slicing through the creature directly in front of him and sending an arc of light through the mass of bodies. But the attack dispelled the magic and plunged them both back into an even deeper darkness.

“Climb! Now!” Sheik ordered. Link did not hesitate and quickly scrambled up the wall closest to him.

“What are those?!”

“Redead. Less talk, more climb!”

Link could feel the tips of his fingers cut and bleed as he grasped for invisible holds on the wall. Slime and blood slowed his progress as his fingers slipped from the holds he did find. Below he could hear the hollow screams and the scraping as the redead began to follow. Dozens of tiny red lights stared unblinking up at him.

The lip of the well was in sight when a bony hand wrapped around his ankle with surprising strength and began to pull down. Link kicked wildly, hearing a hollow clunk as the redead was bashed again the stone before being thrown off. He made a mad scramble for the top, pulling himself over in time to find a spear pointed at his throat.

Sheik stood a few feet away, two guards holding his arms. His mouth was set into a hard line and his eyes were focused on the well. The falcon screamed as it flew past, dropping a sheath with twin blades on the ground, before landing in a nearby tree.

There was a beat of perfect silence. A cloud drifted over the moon, easing the village into blackness. Link felt jagged fingernails on a cold hand dig into his neck. The guards’ eyes widened and breath hitched in their throats.

One guard took a step back, stepping on a twig with a deafening snap in the utter silence. Suddenly, everyone moved at once. A woman screamed. The guards surged forward as the villagers surged back. Sheik, suddenly deprioritized by the guards, grabbed his twin blades off the ground. Link ripped his sword from its sheath and spun around, the fingers on his neck tearing into the flesh, and beheaded the nearest redead.

Like cockroaches, the redead began to pour over the lip of the well. Guards jabbed with spears, keeping the zombies out of arm’s reach as they tried in vain to push them back. But the tide frothing out of the well only grew, forcing the men back. Link dove into the fray, slicing and stabbing with his sword, and using his shield like a battering ram. Soon he found himself in a sea of leathery skin and bony limbs.

Cut off from the guards and Sheik, he found himself on the losing end of the battle. The redead pressed in from all sides, and every time he showed his back one of them would grab at it. His breath came in short pants, and even the sword’s constant warning shocks could not keep him going.

Glancing down, he saw the metal begin to shine red through the coat of black blood. He swallowed hard as that intangible feeling began to come back, responding to the pulse emitted by the sword. He ground his teeth together and lunged, managing to climb onto the lip of the well, slashing at any of the redead as best he could.

The sword gave a thunderous pulse that seemed to rip the disembodied essence asunder. He closed his eyes against the indescribable force. He saw red light behind his closed lids and felt the power rush outwards. Hollow screams filled the night. Then the silence returned. Nothing moved, nothing dared to breathe.
Link opened his eyes as the force abated, leaving him feeling tired and weak. Before him was a field of fallen redead. Black blood coated the ground in a puddle of gore, severed limbs and heads lay uselessly near their former owners, and spears and swords stood like a forest of saplings. Several guards lay among the redead, too slow to escape the onslaught. The remaining guards were covered in a mix of black and red blood that oozed down their bodies to join the rest.

Sheik stood among the guards, his tunic painted black and more gore slowly dripping from the tips of his swords. His mouth hung slightly ajar and his green eyes were wide with shock.

Link realized that everyone was staring at him and he smiled in spite of the exhaustion pulling at his body and mind. He gave a soft whistle and a steady drum of hooves echoed out of the darkness. Nightfire seemed to materialize from the pitch, ponying Blu behind him. “We’re going,” Link announced, his voice sounding far stronger than he felt.

Sheik did not say a word as they mounted and put their heels into the horses. Both steeds sped off into the night without so much as a whisper of protest from the guards around them. The town blew by them in a blur of blues. They raced through the gates and down the trail, across the small bridge and into the gently rolling hills of Hyrule field.

Link pulled up short as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

“Hero?”

“I think... I need to rest...I don’t feel so good...”

“Okay.” Sheik slid from Blu’s back. “After you lit up the town, I don’t think they are going to follow us anytime soon. We’ll stop for the night.”

Link nodded vaguely as he slid to the ground. His legs wobbled dangerously beneath him and he ended up just sitting down. He groaned and placed his head in his hands as the world began to spin around him.

“Lay down, Hero.” Sheik’s voice drifted over him and hands firmly guided him to the ground. He was too dizzy and weak to protest. “Nayru, what have you done to yourself now?”

&&&

“Sister Koume, did you feel that?” Kotake asked in a whisper.

“I did, sister Kotake. The dragon is free.”
“What do we do? It is too late to call it off.”

“We will just have to hurry. Do not worry, sister Kotake,” Koume replied, leaning out the window of their small room to watch Ganondorf bully a smaller moblin. “All is well.”

&&&

“Nayru, are you sure he can take this?” Forare asked plaintively. “He looks sick.”

“You know you sound like a child, right?” Din added.

“Let her be, Din,” Nayru scolded. “Farore, you knew in the beginning this would not be easy.”

“Yes, but... can’t we help him... just a tiny bit? Please?”

“We have already interfered enough,” Nayru said in a tired voice. “If he does not do this alone–”

“Then there is no point in him doing it at all. We know!” Din cut in.

&&&

“Sheik?” Link asked softly. The dizziness had faded after an hour and he was able to sit up and eat. But Sheik had insisted on staying the night so he could fully recover.

“Yeah, Hero?” he replied, looking up from checking his swords for damage.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about back there?”

Sheik paused and looked at him. His green eyes considered Link carefully from behind his dark hair. Then he slowly set his weapons aside and settled into a more comfortable position. “I guess after what you did, I owe you that much. So let’s get the most shocking bits out of the way first: I’m a thief and the King is dead.”