Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction ❯ To Forge the Master ❯ Chapter 14 ( Chapter 14 )

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

Link stared at Sheik, dumbfounded, for several long minutes. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. Finally, he stopped and composed himself. But when he tried to speak, so many questions tried to scramble out of his mouth all at once that he had to stop and try again. Sheik watched the scene silently.

“What?!” Link finally managed.

“I’m a thief and the King is dead,” Sheik repeated evenly.

Link’s shock faded slowly and his jaw set. “Bastard. I believed you were innocent! I...” He stopped, then abruptly got up and walked away. His legs still felt weak, so he did not go far before he sat back down, but with his back to Sheik. The point had been made.

Sheik sighed and rolled to his feet. When he approached, Link stubbornly refused to look at him. “The world isn't full of heroes and villains, Link. Everyone, everywhere, is just trying to get by; sometimes by any means necessary. Sometimes we are just victims of our situation and there are no good choices. In the end, it's all gray.” Link made no response. “Do you want to hear what I have to say, or do you just want to turn me back over to Thorvald?”

For a long moment, Link said nothing. Then he sighed. “I’m listening.”

Sheik nodded and sat down next to him, though Link still refused to look at him.

“Ganon and the moblin have been a problem for far longer than the nobility would like the people to believe. But until recently, the threat was minor. I know because my father was Captain of the Guard for the royal family. Believe it or not, I grew up with Princess Zelda as my best friend. She still is, actually.” Link did look at him in surprise, but quickly caught himself and looked away.

“Then the moblin attacked a small village on the very edge of the kingdom. It was a massacre. The King declared war. I was twelve the last time I saw my father. He and King Hyrule rode out with a bunch of soldiers to push the moblin back. Only a handful of men returned; the King and my father were not among them.

“My mother died in childbirth and I have no other family to my knowledge. I was old enough I could have lived in the castle as a servant until I could enter training to become a guard. But Thorvald adopted me instead and took me to Kakariko. At first I thought it would be okay, having a brother and growing up as a noble, but that was foolish.

“It was all a stunt, a chance to get into the good graces of the Queen and Princess. Out in public I was expected to be a grateful and loving son and speak nothing but praise for my new family. Behind closed doors, I was all but a slave. I spent most of my time locked in my room. Even the window had been nailed shut. If I did anything that displeased either of those bastards... let’s just say Thorvald found ways to keep me in line without leaving any evidence.

“When I was fourteen, Thorvald handed me a purse of rupees and told me to go buy Archelaus a horse for his birthday. Instead, I took the money, bought Blu, my swords, and some supplies, and never looked back.”

Silence stretched between them, with only the sound of the wind to fill the void.

“What happened after that?” Link asked carefully.

“I survived,” Sheik evaded.

Link sighed. “Did you ever go after Ganon?”

“I was young and foolish... like you.” He grinned teasingly. “Of course I went after him. It is probably only by the grace of the Goddesses I survived the encounter.”

“Why...” The edge of Link’s mouth twitched. “Why do you call Archelaus Meredith?”

Sheik laughed. “Because that’s the horrible middle name his mother stuck him with, and he hates it.” His smile faded a little and he held out his hands as if he expected them to be bound. “So what do you say, Hero?”

“You’re an idiot.” Link laughed, pushing him away lightly. He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling dangerously. Sheik quickly rose and steadied him.

“Okay, Hero. You better get some sleep.”

&&&

Link woke early the next morning. A thin mist still hung over the field and the cold morning sun cast soft shadows across the ground. He stretched, feeling tired muscles groan in protest. He felt strangely disconnected from the world. The wind blew softly, tossing his hair playfully, and the mist left a slight wetness on his skin and clothes. Yet he did not feel cold or uncomfortable, just full of a strange stillness.

Slowly he rose to his feet and took a deep breath. The scent of grass and horses and water and smoke filled the moist air. The rustle of wings alerted him to the falcon’s arrival before it alighted on his shoulder, a large rat clutched in its beak. He shrugged the bird off to enjoy its prize elsewhere.
A soft shift of fabric caught his ear and he turned. Sheik still lay sleeping, head cradled on his arm and blanket half falling off. Link smiled as a wicked idea formed in his mind. He drew his sword and readied his shield as quietly as he could, before creeping over to the sleeping man. Pointing the tip of the sword directly at Sheik’s throat he barked, “On your feet!”
For a moment the world was still; Sheik’s breathing did not even change. Then a flash of metal cut the air and only a quick reflex kept the blade from diving into Link’s shoulder. Still it made a deep gash in his arm several inches long. A second flash and Link repelled the blow with his shield, oblivious to the pain the movement caused.

He slapped another attack away with his sword and found himself staring into dull green eyes as Sheik lunged at him in a sleepy haze. Link dodged under one of the thin blades and slammed his shoulder into Sheik’s gut. The older man let out an “oomph” of air and tumbled back. He was on his feet again in an instant, but the blow had cleared the remaining sleep from his mind. He blinked at Link over the poised blades.

“What the hell is wrong with you, brat?! I could have killed you!”

Link lunged, driving against Sheik’s defense, an amused smile on his lips. “Oh, so it’s okay for you to wake me at the crack of dawn, but not the other way around?”

“Idiot,” Sheik snapped, striking back quickly and slicing into Link’s cheek so a thin line of blood pearled up on his cheek. “Weren’t you listening last night? I’ve been on my own for years!”

“So?” Link twisted and jabbed, cutting into Sheik’s shoulder. The older man hissed in surprise and pain. “I can be just as good. I won’t lose to you again!”

Sheik’s small smile faded and he stabbed one sword at Link’s shoulder. The younger man dodged and Sheik planted his elbow into Link’s nose. He followed with a knee to the stomach. Another elbow to the side of his head sent Link sprawling across the grass. Sheik’s knee came down on his chest, hard, and the twin blades crossed his throat so close they drew blood with each of Link’s gasping breaths.

Sheik leaned close. “You may have the Goddesses on your side, Little Hero, but nothing can take the place of experience and practice. Of which I have in abundance.” He rose, leaving Link on the ground panting and bleeding.

Link snarled and pushed himself to his feet, still ignoring his body’s fierce protests. He twisted his sword and took up a ready stance. “I said I won’t lose to you again.”

Sheik paused and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me really hurt you, Link.” Link charged. Sheik sidestepped, spun, and slammed his elbow between Link’s shoulder blades. The younger man stumbled forward, catching himself on all fours. Sheik brought a foot down on his neck, forcing him to the ground, before placing the edge of one blade against Link’s throat. “That is enough, Hero,” he said calmly.

Link struggled for a few more minutes before sighing and relaxing. Sheik accepted his surrender and withdrew. Link carefully pushed up on all fours again, panting and watching the blood drip from his mouth, nose, and arm. He swallowed hard, then coughed at the bitter, coppery taste.
A cool, damp cloth appeared before his eyes, then rose to cover his bleeding face. With his uninjured arm, Link took the rag and sat up, doing his best to clear the blood from his face. Sheik crouched in front of him, a water bottle on his left and a bottle of blue potion held out in offering. When he had cleared his face of as much blood as he could, Link accepted the potion and downed it in a few gulps. The bleeding from his nose and mouth quickly abated, but his arm was taking longer to knit.

“So, what crawled up into your brain this morning?” Sheik asked as he began to pull out some foodstuffs for breakfast. “And does it have any other bad ideas I should know about?” Link only shrugged and watched in mild interest as his arm became whole again. Sheik sighed and rolled his eyes. “Where to, Hero?”

“She said I have to meet with the people of the wind. So I’m guessing the Rito Domain,” Link answered as he accepted the bread, meat, and cheese Sheik handed him.

“That sounds good to me. The Rito live not too far from here. If we ride hard we might be able to make it by nightfall. But that will only get us to the canyon. After that I’m not sure. I’ve heard there is a bridge across, but having never been there myself, I don’t know where it is exactly.”

The day passed slowly. Sheik insisted on putting some distance between them and Kakariko, but a new wave of dizziness kept Link from riding as hard and far as they wanted to go. By nightfall they had reached the shadow of the cliffs that made up the Rito Domain. They played one game of chess, which Link lost less miserably than in past games, before splitting up the night watch and going to sleep.

The next morning, Link woke with the oddest sensation of being watched. It was a creepy feeling that made his skin prickle. Unconsciously, he kept looking up at the sky, but only ever saw the falcon making its slow circles above them. When Sheik asked about the odd behavior, Link only shrugged and shook his head.

The yawning abyss of the canyon that separated Hyrule field from the Rito Domain created a dark line before them. Overhead, thick black clouds had begun to build, climbing on top of each other as they grumbled and growled their displeasure. The air cracked like a whip and lightning ripped the sky in two, bathing the land in hot white light for an instant.

The horses spooked, rearing up and whinnying, forcing Link and Sheik to dismount or be thrown off. There was another boom of thunder and rain began to pour down around them in heavy sheets. Link whistled for the falcon, but the sound was lost on the quickening wind.

“We have to get out of this,” Sheik shouted over the wind.

“Where?” Link replied, pointedly looking around at the wide expanse of nothing that bordered the cliffs. Sheik only shook his head absently.

An abnormally loud crack of thunder sounded right over their heads and was followed by a scream. The falcon came swooping from the sky, wings tucked in a steep dive as it cried again. Lightning flashed and the bird dodged wildly, screaming as it did. Suddenly the raptor dove again, twisted in disorientation, and crashed sideways into Sheik’s gut. Sheik cursed as he caught the bird reflexively.

The strange feeling of being watched was quickly turning into a buzz in the back of Link’s mind, like tiny bolts of lightning jumping around in his brain. Abruptly the buzzing came to a head and he looked up. A massive bird, easily large enough to carry off both horses, swooped out of the sky, talons extended. Feathers of black and gold made it almost impossible to see against the angry sky.

Link shoved Sheik one way and dodged the other. The talons snapped shut only feet from their heads before the bird pulled up. The horses whinnied and bolted, thankfully away from the cliffs.

Link looked up. Even through the driving rain he could see the bird slowly circling, its electric blue eyes trained on him. His brow lowered and his hand slid the sword from its sheath.

“Sheik, you better catch the horses before they get too far.”

“What? Wh–” Sheik began, but Link was gone before he could finish. He shouted after Link as the younger man sprinted towards the cliffs.

Link felt his legs move, his boots slipping in the gathering mud, as he put some distance between himself and Sheik. He knew that bird was after him and a quick glance over his shoulder confirmed it. Sheik shouts were carried wordlessly on the wind and drowned out by the driving rain.

A pulse – white hot – raced up his arm from his sword. He whistled, a low soft noise that was sucked from his throat by the storm even before it passed his lips. It did not matter.

The cliff edge stretched across his path. He heard a final frantic shout from Sheik, and then he dove. For a long moment he hung there, looking down into a canyon several thousand feet deep, a curtain of rain making a tunnel around him so he had a clear view of a white-capped river raging far, far below.

Then gravity took over and he began to fall. His brain screamed that he should be terrified, but he could not muster the feeling. In the back of his mind a warmth, like a fire on a cold night, was rising. Link gripped his sword and closed his eyes. Over the rain and wind he could hear the thunderous flapping of massive leathery wings.

&&&
Sheik watched, stunned, as Link leapt over the edge of the cliff as if he were diving into a lake. He was sure he shouted something, but had no idea what it was. Not even bothering to set down the injured falcon he raced after the younger man. He was so caught up in his futile race he was nearly knocked from his feet by a great rush of wind. He looked up just in time to see the dragon’s tail pass over his head, before the creature tucked its wings and vanished over the edge of the cliff as well.

&&&

Link’s eyes snapped open to see a single, shield-sized, crystal blue eye staring at him. He smiled and could feel the dragon return the gesture. Quickly, the heavier creature plummeted past him in a streak of blood-red and black, color just barely visible in the lack of light. Once below him, the wings snapped open and the dragon rushed up to meet his descent. Link landed between two spikes and instantly gripped the hard scales with his knees as he readied his shield.

“Let’s go.” He nodded absently. The dragon mimicked him, then, with a flap of her wings, rose into the air.

Sheik’s head snapped up as the dragon rocketed out of the canyon, Link on her back. He stared for several long minutes as the pair turned and faced the bird. “I am so going to kill that boy.”

Link squinted against the wind and rain as they rose out of the canyon. Overhead, the bird was making slow circles, its electric blue eyes watching him fiercely. Link twirled his sword, shifting his weight on the dragon’s back the same way he would a horse, and was only mildly surprised when she responded in kind. The two massive creatures made slow circles around each other.

The bird struck first, slicing through the air like lightning. Andraste dodged right, letting the avian go under her wing before swinging her spiked tail in retaliation. The giant bird dodged, swooping nimbly around the tail. Link quickly found he was being sidelined as the two beasts went at each other. All he could do was hold on as the dragon spewed fire and the bird called down lightning.

A bolt struck Andraste’s wing and the dragon roared, flapping awkwardly. The bird took the opportunity to dive at them, talons extended. Link raised his sword in time to stab the bird in the foot, averting the attack, but not doing any real damage.

“This isn’t working!” Link shouted over the storm. Andraste turned her head and gave him a flat look. “We need a plan... “ His mind raced. The bird dove again and Andraste dodged, almost unseating him in his distraction. As the bird flashed past them, Link grinned.

With a shout to Andraste, they barrel-rolled and dove, following the bird in its descent. Link gripped the spine in front of him as the ground rushed up at them and the wind threatened to rip the hat from his head. The bird pulled up just before it hit the ground and Andraste took the heartbeat the direction change happened to let loose a jet of fire. The bird squawked in surprise as the rush of flames pinned it to the wet earth.

Link launched himself from the dragon’s back, sword held like a giant dagger. The fire abated just in time and he sank the blade into the bird’s skull. He slammed magic into the sword as hard as he could, sending arcs of light in all directions.

For a moment the world went black, then everything turned to brilliant gold. The familiar feeling of weightlessness engulfed him. Laughter, that reminded him of his little sister, rang softly from all around him. Link turned as best he could, but did not see the Spirit anywhere. She giggled again and a feather, gold and black, floated past his cheek. He turned again and this time saw a girl, no more than twelve, standing behind him.

She wore a pale yellow sundress and no shoes. Her hair fell in straight, flaxen locks to the middle of her back, and she smiled at him with sky blue eyes. She giggled again and raised her hand, freeing a few more feathers she had been holding.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said in a singsong voice. “My sisters have all gone before me, and I wish to join them.”

“I don’t understand,” Link cut in. “Where is your temple? The others had temples.”

The Spirit giggled again. “I am the wind and sky; I call no one place home.” She threw out her arms and, for a moment, Link found himself standing alone in Hyrule Field – except the world was hemmed in a golden glow. Winds like ribbons of sunlight whipped across the plains, bending grass and moving clouds before them.

Something dark crawled through his senses and he turned. On the horizon, beyond where Lake Hylia would be, a dome rose into the sky like a rising sun. It pulsed and crackled with energy as it seemed to grow before his eyes. The sword gave a painfully sharp pulse and the world melted back again into sparkling gold.

The Spirit smiled as she touched his cheek, yet she seemed to have lost her mirth. “Hyrule needs you. Protect her.” Her hand slipped from his face and the world began its familiar swirl into the sword. A dull throb started in the back of his neck as he gripped the sword with both hands. Slowly the ache crawled through his skull, leeching into his brain, before curling up behind his eyes. The dull throb quickly escalated, turning first into a heavy pounding and then into blinding pain.

Then everything stopped. Link found himself kneeling in a pool of muddy water, sword still gripped with both hands, as sunlight streamed down from the dispersing clouds. He doubled over, hiding his eyes against the assaulting light. His head throbbed with every breath he took. All around him was too bright and too loud; even the sound of his own labored breathing echoed painfully in his ears.

Sheik splashed through the puddles as he approached, the thunderous noise bringing tears to Link’s eyes. When the older man shouted his name, he thought his head would explode. He slammed his sword into its sheath, even the soft rub of steel on leather making his head hurt, and turned in Sheik’s direction without opening his eyes. “Shut up!” He twitched at the ring of his own voice, covering his ears as he doubled back over.
Sheik froze in surprise. Then slowly, taking soft steps, he made his way over to where Link knelt and got down on his knees. Setting the injured falcon gently on the ground, he placed his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, feeling him flinch at the touch.

“Link?” he asked, keeping his voice as low as he could.

“What?” Link replied just as softly, his voice sounding strained.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think my brain is trying to explode. Light hurts, sound hurts, breathing hurts.”

Sheik frowned. “Okay, I don’t have anything to treat that with. We’ll need to get across the canyon and see the Rito Shaman. Can you ride?”

Link shook his head weakly. “I don’t know.”

&&&

Savas sneered at the moblin holding his bonds as he was forced to his knees before the throne. The castle was as filthy as ever. Several of the girls were hurrying about with trays of food or drink, doing their best to go unnoticed by the moblin around them. He caught a glimpse of Aysu’s red hair through the crowd.

The number of moblin gathered worried him. There were more of the pigs crammed into the room than he had seen in a long time. The beasts were not known for their cooperative spirit, and large groups often erupted in brawls. Yet this group was subdued, almost passive. He also noted that not one of them carried a trademark crudely made weapon.

Savas glared up at the huge moblin and the two females before him. Kotake grinned at him while Koume seemed content to cast her fake smile up at Ganon. The big pig basked in her adoring eyes, oblivious to her lack of real enthusiasm. Behind the throne, Savas’s sword hung on the wall like a trophy. He cringed to see it draped in a boar-skin sheath popular among the moblin.

“Are you ready, Master Ganon?” Kotake asked sweetly. The pig nodded and grunted, pointing his triton at Savas. Kotake nodded to the moblin behind him and Savas felt a firm, callused hand grip the back of his neck as the bonds around his wrists were loosened.

Savas seized the moment. After weeks of being stuck in the dungeon, half starved, and beaten into submission, he saw his opening. As soon as his hands were free he ripped away from his guard and slammed his elbow back. There was a crack as the bone struck old armor, both creaking. Savas cursed and the moblin let out a rush of air as it doubled over. The Garudo leapt to his feet and spun about, planting his foot into the side of the moblin’s head.

Ganon stood with a grunt, raising his triton. The two girls scurried away. Savas growled and lunged. He had never thought himself nimble, but against the giant moblin he moved like lightning. Ducking under the triton, he grabbed for his sword and ripped it from the wall. Using his momentum he spun on his heel, using the axe-blade shaped end of the sword to slice through Ganon’s back. Ganon roared as he fell.

Decades of training screamed for Savas to finish his opponent while he was down, but more ancient instincts told him differently. Even if the other moblin were unarmed, he was vastly outnumbered. Turning, he sprinted for the large double doors. He swung wildly at any moblin that got in his way, being sure to swing over the heads of the servant girls who were scrambling to keep out of the chaos.

Decapitating a moblin directly in his path, he slammed into the doors full force. The wood groaned and cracked under the assault, but held firm nonetheless. Backing up, the Garudo king rammed it again, and the boards splintered violently. A squeal behind him made him turn and slash blindly at the approaching pigs before spinning and smashing the remains of the door with his sword.

The servant girls quickly used the opening to escape as the moblin surged forward. Savas ran, hoping to find a better place to stand his ground ahead. The castle was crudely built, the doors leading directly into a large entrance hall. The massive double doors had been left open, showing the bleak world beyond.

The sound of hooved feet at his back made him curse. “Aysu, take the others into the desert; you will find shelter there,” he ordered as he stopped, turning to face the moblin. The doors had forced them to pass only in ones and twos, stemming the flow into a manageable amount.

“But–”

“Do it now!” He drove his sword into a moblin’s stomach before pulling it out. “I am your king and I order you to go now!” She swallowed hard, then grabbed the hand of the girl nearest her – the blonde-haired mouse of a Hyrulian – and ran. Savas watched them go from the corner of his eye.

He turned back just in time to be thrown off his feet. The unseen force tossed him like a rag doll and slammed him shoulder first into the far wall, several meters above the ground. The force formed a hand that wrapped around his throat, slamming his back against the wall again for good measure, before holding him suspended where he was. Far below, he could see his sword lying useless on the stone floor as moblin gathered curiously all around.

“So you still have some fight in you. Isn’t that amusing, Sister Koume?” Kotake said calmly as the two women dipped into his line of sight. Both sat astride old brooms and smiled wickedly at him. Kotake had her hand extended in mimicry of the force holding him in place.
“Oh it is, Sister Kotake,” Koume agreed serenely. “We can’t have that. We should bring him to heel.”

“I agree.” Kotake nodded and flicked her wrist. Savas sailed back across the room, smashing through the wall above the doors, bouncing off the far wall on the other side before falling to the floor. He felt his arm break and several ribs crack. Before he could recover he was again picked up and flown upwards, being crushed between the force and the ceiling. Then he fell again, feeling more bones shatter on impact.

“Bitch,” he choked around the blood in his mouth as the two women came to hover over him.

“So close,” Kotake cooed teasingly and flicked her wrist again. This time he was slammed against the wall and held. Chains snaked out of the wall, wrapping around his wrists, ankles, and throat. The force abated, leaving him hanging limply like a grotesque trophy. Through his slowly blurring vision he could make out Ganon raging wildly against a pale shimmering shield. Koume looked bored as she held out her hand and watched the moblin vent.

Kotake flew nearer to him, reaching out a hand and lifting his chin. Angrily, he spat at her and struggled against the bonds even though he knew it was useless. “Do your worst, witch. I am a Garudo and do not fear death.”

“That’s too bad, Your Majesty,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “because you are not going to die. Not for a long, long, long time.” She looked away from him, smiling over her shoulder. “It is time, Sister Koume. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sister Kotake.”

Both witches raised their arms, palms facing him and fingers spread. Dark energy crackled around them in blue and red and black before it rushed at him, striking him in the chest. Savas had never felt anything like the magic ripping through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut as the world exploded in color before going completely white. His body spasmed uncontrollably as every muscle felt like it was ripping apart. Despite his best efforts, Savas screamed.