Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction ❯ To Forge the Master ❯ Chapter 18 ( Chapter 18 )

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

Link blinked as Sheik was hurled off his chest and into the Fairy Fountain with a splash. He had seen Din cross swords with the older man, but suspected Sheik had not seen a thing. In the back of his mind he could hear Nayru scolding her sister while the younger Goddesses laughed.

Gingerly he pushed himself to his feet. The prickliness he had woken to was slowly fading as his circulation restarted itself. He took a deep breath and coughed; his lungs were still not up to speed and Sheik’s boot on his chest had not helped. His head felt fuzzy, his vision swam, and his whole body felt weak and tingly. To top it off he was dying of thirst and deathly hungry. All in all, he decided being dead sucked.

Regardless, he stumbled over to the Fairy Fountain and waded in. The fairies rushed him, swirling and dancing around in dazzling flashes of pink light. He was mildly surprised when it did little to make him feel better, and wondered if it meant he was still mostly dead.

Sheik was lying on his back in the shallow water, but aside from being out cold did not appear hurt. It took all the strength Link could muster to sling one of the older man’s arms over his shoulders and drag him out of the Fountain. He did not even make it back to the fire, but dropped them both to the ground at the water’s edge.

His body tingling and cold, he checked Sheik’s breathing and pulse. Both were normal. With a sigh he flopped down on the grass and waited for the numbness to go away and the strength to return to his legs. His stomach growled, but he did not have the strength to oblige it.

Dawn had crept over the horizon before Link was able to climb to his feet and not feel dizzy. He wandered over to the dead fire and carefully stocked it. He dug some rations out of his pouch and began to cook breakfast.

He was just splitting the slabs of ham between two plates when a pair of strong hands grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. Sheik stared at him with wide green eyes, his mouth working behind his scarf but no sound coming out. Link raised an amused eyebrow, enjoying his friend’s shock.

“How?!” he finally choked, “You were dead! For hours!”

“The girls just wanted to chat,” he answered with a smile. Something akin to a loud snort of disgust echoed through his mind. Sheik blinked hard, several times, as he tried to digest the situation. Finally he gave up. Taking his plate he began to eat in silence. Link joined him.

“So let me get this straight,” Sheik said after they had finished eating. “The Goddesses put you through hell, had you fight monsters, forced you to pass an insane series of tests that made you physically ill to the point of fainting at random, stole your soul for a few hours while your body chilled, then sent you back. Am I missing anything?”

“No, that’s about the measure of it,” Link answered. He wanted to say more, but Nayru had advised him heavily against such actions.

Sheik let out a slow breath, and studied Link for several more long moments. “Well, there but for the grace of the Goddesses go I, I guess. So, Hero, where too next?”

&&&

Once you leave the shadow of the tower, our current connection will be lost. You will only hear our voices when you are in need of our aid. Nayru’s words rang in his ears as Link swung himself into Nighfire’s saddle. He looked over his shoulder to see Sheik getting settled. “Ready to go fight Ganon?”

Sheik’s eyes gleamed. “Hell, yeah!”

Link smiled and nodded, urging Nightfire forward. As soon as he moved from the lush grass of the oasis to the soft sand of the desert, the quiet voices of the Goddesses where silent. He sighed, feeling strangely lonely at their sudden absence.

“We have one last gift for you, Link,” Farore said suddenly. Her voice was very soft and distant in his mind. “A shortcut.”

A bright flash split the air and both young men had to cover their eyes. When they could see again, they stood at the foot of a bridge of light. It was ethereal and almost transparent, like the gossamer coat of a bubble. The horses snorted and stamped nervously. With a little encouragement, Nightfire stepped onto the bridge. Sheik and Blu followed behind cautiously.

It quickly became apparent that the bridge was moving on its own; so even though they only plodded along at a walk, they might as well have been going at a full gallop. Far below, the desert dunes rolled under them. The cool air high over the sun-baked sands was refreshing, if a bit dry. Faris flew by, tilting her head to stare at them curiously.

In a matter of hours they were swept out of the desert and over Hyrule Field. Below, houses and farms rushed past, the people oblivious to the two traveling over their heads. The bridge bent and began to slope down towards the mountains between the desert and Lake Hylia. It was barely late afternoon when they set foot back on solid ground.

“That was...interesting,” Sheik offered as they watched the bridge shimmer and fade from existence. It was the first thing he had said all day, far too engrossed in the bridge to talk. “So where are we exactly? I’ve never been this far south. I’ve heard that this is Moblin territory and mostly swamps though.”

“It’s the blind leading the blind then...” Link replied as he scanned the trees around them. They were tall and thick, each trunk covered in a thin film of black slime. The ground was dark brown, and though it looked firm, each step the horses took made a wet sucking noise and left a small pool of water behind. The air smelled heavily of earth and rot, while only tiny patches of sunlight peeked through the thick canopy.

A dark dome rose ominously in his mind’s eye. Even with the trees blocking his view he could feel the darkness’s presence like a physical taint on his skin. Turning Nightfire, he motioned for Sheik to follow.

&&&

The swamp broke to reveal a wasteland. The trees had all been roughly hacked down and the ground scorched black and trampled under untold numbers of hoofed-feet. In the middle of the destruction loomed a huge castle. Like the rest of the area, the crumbling walls were soot black. A blood-red sunset cast the field in eerie light.

“There is no way we are going to get there without being seen,” Sheik said softly. “And I’m willing to bet they have bokoblin archers on the walls.”

Link nodded in agreement. “Any bright ideas?”

Sheik frowned for a moment as he thought. “We can use the horses to charge the gate. I doubt the archers could hit us at a full gallop. The drawback is, we will have to stop and dismount at the gate, which will make us easy picking and, with all these stumps to dodge, we run a high risk of tripping our horses and then we are really screwed. The other option is to cover ourselves in soot and try to sneak close without anyone noticing. But we will have to leave the horses and won’t be able to make a quick escape if we need to.”

“I think we should take them by surprise if we can. We don’t know how many are in there, and there are only two of us. No need to draw their attention before we have to,” Link replied, and Sheik nodded in agreement. Careful to stay hidden, they rubbed handfuls of blackened earth over their skin and clothes. Soon they were both covered head to toe in black. It was gritty and uncomfortable, but Link said nothing as they loosely tied the horses in a thick grove of trees and crouched on their stomachs. With methodical slowness they army crawled toward the castle, picking their way around stumps and freezing at the slightest noise. Their journey was made all the more difficult by the lack of light as the sun set.

It felt like hours before they reached the castle. Soft lights flickered in the windows and around the castle wall, but none of it made it to the ground. Against the darkness, it was hard to distinguish between shadows and moving figures. The large, heavy double doors hung slightly open. They sidled silently up and Sheik peeked around the edge. “All clear.”

On silent feet they entered the Entrance Hall. When it was new it must have been a grand sight, with high gothic arches and stained glass windows, Link could almost imagine the beautiful tapestries and paintings that must have lined the walls. But those things were long gone. The floors and walls, like everything else, were covered in a thick layer of soot and dirt. The windows had long ago been smashed out and the pieces lost, and any decorations that had hung on the walls were gone. The only light in the room came from small fires built on the floor that were slowly burning out. If not for the muted crackle of the fires, it would have been completely silent.

Swords whispered out of their sheaths, gleaming brightly in the dim firelight, as the men made their way forward. At every door and hallway they stopped to carefully look around, but each time found nothing. Only their own footsteps echoed around them as they moved.

“I was prepared to face a lot of things,” Sheik said in a hushed voice that still echoed in the empty main hall, “but, this, wasn’t one of them.”

“It’s completely deserted, but why?” Link asked as they stepped out of the shadows and sheathed their swords. The large hall had obviously once been meant for large banquets or parties, but had since fallen into disrepair. Like everything else it was covered in filth and grime. At odds with the crumpling castle were several places high on the walls that had been smudged so the gray stone peeked through, and a fresh hole was broken through the stones over the double doors on the side of the room that hung ajar on busted hinges.

Sheik frowned deeply behind his blackened scarf. “I don’t know. It is very unlike moblin to leave a place once they are rooted in, unless something drove them out.” He shook his head as he looked around. “But if that were the case there should be signs of battle or something similar. Yet there isn’t even a sign that they were short on food.”

They walked through the hall to the double doors, and with some effort on Link’s part, heaved them open enough to pass through.

“Farore...” Sheik whispered. Link looked up and felt his stomach drop into his feet. The throne room was awash in dried blood and smelled rancid. Flies and other insects buzzed around the room while crows and vultures perched in the rafters and windows, all glaring at the intruders. A splash of blood colored the stone high on the wall and smeared down to the lump of flesh on the floor.

Even from a distance, the distinct, Garudo-style clothes gave the corpse away.

Link felt the bile rise in his throat as he crossed the room. The once proud king lay in a heap like a forgotten toy. Dried blood formed a pool around his body which had been scraped and clawed at by the scavengers. His chest had been cracked open as if something had been ripped out from the inside, his rib cage spread like a pair of morbid cabinet doors. The insides had all been picked clean by the scavengers.

“What happened to him...?” Link whispered.

“I don’t know,” Sheik replied softly, his hands on his swords again as his eyes darted around the room suspiciously. Nothing moved, except the crows and vultures and flies, and he slowly dropped his hand.

“We can’t leave him like this.”

“No,” Sheik agreed. He raised his hand, palm out and fingers splayed. “WIND!” A rush of air wrapped around the fallen king, sweeping the flies away and buffeting any bird that tried to get close. Even Link had to move back to keep from being pushed over. Faris lit on his shoulder and gave a soft cry. “That will keep the bugs and scavengers off him until his own people can retrieve his body.” Link began to protest, but Sheik shook his head. “The Garudo have very specific burial rituals, especially surrounding their kings. We don’t want to start a war by trying to be helpful.” Link frowned but nodded.

They left the throne room without another word and Sheik led the way through a side door from the main hall. Wandering aimlessly they checked the rooms they passed, only to find more of the same.

Link wrinkled his nose. “Do they break everything they touch?”

Sheik shrugged. “Seems that way. What I can’t understand is why they were all here. I’ve heard of moblin living in groups before, but nothing like the number that seemed to be here.”

“There weren’t this many when you tracked down Ganon the first time?”

“No.” Sheik frowned and shifted uncomfortably. “In fact, I didn’t find him anywhere near here. He was leading a small group of maybe twenty and haunting the mountains close to Rito territory. But they were not really organized... more like living in the same area like feral dogs.”

“Twenty? That’s all. How did that small number defeat the Hyrule Royal Army?”

“Ganon is not a normal moblin.” Something in the tone of Sheik’s voice told Link to drop the subject.

He pushed open the next door and stopped. Like the rest of the castle, the outside of the door was filthy, but the inside was immaculate. Two gilded beds sat across the room from each other, each draped in fine silk sheets. Several tables were covered in bottles of liquids and shiny instruments Link could not hope to identify. The room had a strange spicy smell and latent magic clung to everything. Large windows looked out on the darkening sky.

“This is...odd,” Link offered. Sheik nodded in agreement as they walked around the room. They searched the tables and Sheik found several long scrolls, but they were written in a language neither could read. Link pulled open the top draw on a dresser and lifted out a pair or risque undergarments using an arrow. “Whatever was living here was not a moblin.”

“Goddesses, I hope not!” Sheik shuddered visibly, “Great, now I have a mental image of Ganon in women’s panties. I’ll never be able to sleep again, and it is your fault.”

“Then you can always take night watch,” Link shot back as he dropped the underwear back into the drawer and put his arrow back in his quiver. He moved to the window and lifted an eyebrow. “Hey, Sheik, check this out.”

“I am afraid to look,” Sheik replied dully as he left the scrolls and moved to stand beside the younger man. He blinked hard and rubbed his eyes. Below them was the castle courtyard, still faintly lit by dying torches. On the south side was a small pond with a tiny stream running into it. Slightly east of the pond was a group of tree branches stuck upright in the ground. To the west, a layer of sand was spread across the ground with a small box dumped haphazardly in the middle. On the north side of the courtyard was pile of ashes that looked to be the remains of another box. Surrounding the whole strange setup were piles of upturned earth, some larger than others.

“Either I’m crazy, or that is a giant map of Hyrule...” Link said slowly.

“You aren’t crazy,” Sheik said through clenched teeth. “We need to get down there and have a better look.”

They had to walk to the other side of the castle to find a way out into the courtyard, but eventually emerged next to the pond. The “pond” turned out to be more of a cesspool. The water was thick and slimy, the bottom was littered with waste, and the whole thing smelled like a week dead skunk in a backed-up sewer pipe. Both Hyrulians covered their noses and quickly moved to the other side of the yard while trying to hold down their lunch.

Up close they could see marks in the ground made by sticks, and places where careless hooves had knocked things over. There were also numerous scorch marks that did not seem to have any real pattern.

Sheik knelt by the pile of ashes on the north end and sifted some through his fingers. “There isn’t much to go on. This was definitely supposed to be Hyrule Castle, but there isn’t any clues about their route or tactics,” He stood and brushed his knees off, frowning when he remembered he was covered in soot and the gesture was futile. “This doesn’t appear to be a moblin-led army. Too organized.”

“But they are heading for Hyrule Castle,” Link added as he dug into his pouch to produce a scrap of paper.

“Still, the army is probably moblin-based,” Sheik continued, “if their headquarters are any indication, and that means moving it will be a lot like herding puppies. They won’t be moving fast and will have to stick to roads. That means they will have to take the long way through the mountains behind Lake Hylia. If we make a beeline for the castle we can probably get ahead of them by several days.”

“We should send a message ahead to warn the Princess. Do you have any ink and a quill?”

Sheik reached into his pouch and produced the items. “I better write it. If it isn’t addressed correctly it will get lost in the bureaucracy.”

“You can’t be serious.” Link gaped even as he handed over the scrap of paper. “A letter addressed to the Princess should go straight to her.”

“You have a very simple view of the world,” Sheik replied as he handed the ink and quill to Link and spread the paper against to wall. Dipping the quill, he started his letter. “Zelda probably doesn’t see half of what is addressed to her. If she did, she would spend all her time reading. Instead she has advisers who read these things for her, and anything they deem important enough then goes on to be read by her. The rest are compiled for consideration by the council.”

“What do you mean?”

“Say your stepfather wants to lower the tax on milk. So he writes a request to the Princess saying as much. But taxes aren’t a world stopping issue. His letter would get added in with other letters requesting tax cuts on various and sundry items. And the next time the council meets, it will be considered and voted on.”

“That makes since, but why would a letter warning of an approaching army not be deemed important enough?” Link asked as he watched Sheik carefully fold the paper and begin addressing the outside.

“Because advisers are as corruptible as anyone else and they can be paid off to pass the letter to someone else.” He paused to pull a stick of red wax and a ring from his pouch. “Give me a light.”

“Fire.” Link obliged and a small flame appeared in his hand. “But who would do that?”

Sheik slowly rolled the end of the wax in the flame until it started to drip, then placed a large glob on the letter to keep it closed. He gave the wax a second to cool before pressing the top of the ring into it, leaving a triforce impression. “Thorvald, among others. He is the highest ranking nobleman in Hyrule and a major misstep on the Princess’s part could easily leave him as the new king. If the moblin attacked and he raised an army to defend Hyrule while she did not, then said he found this letter disregarded in the throne room, the public would be easily swayed.”

“People aren’t that stupid.”
Sheik gave him a dull look as he tucked the letter supplies away. “Oh, yes they are. And it would be his word against hers.” Link frowned. “That is why I am addressing this as a personal letter, as one friend to another. Since it looks like personal mail, it will bypass her advisers and go straight to her hands.”

Sheik handed Link the letter, which he carefully tied to Faris’s leg. “Take that straight to Princess Zelda as fast as you can.” Faris screeched and took off. They watched as she circled twice to get her bearings, then disappeared over the trees. “Do you think she’ll actually make it.”
“No doubt. Savas used to use her to send messages all the time. We had better get moving ourselves.”

&&&

Link shielded his eyes against the harsh light as they came out of the swamp. They had ridden through the night, not willing to sleep in the moblins’ former hideout or in the surrounding wilderness. His tired eyes ached for rest and the weight of the past few days was finally starting to settle over him. Looking at Sheik, he found the older man did not look much better.

They were both still coated in soot, though sweat had cleared thin paths through the scum, turning it to mud. All attempts to wipe the perspiration away had resulted in an even bigger mess. Small lines of blood peeked through the blackness where wayward limbs had reached out to scratch them.

“The horses need food and water,” Sheik said dully as they walked away from the swamp.

“So do we,” Link agreed as his stomach rumbled in protest.

“There should be a village around here somewhere. This far out they are usually small, but at least they can provide us with a few things.”

“Shouldn’t we warn them about the moblin?”

Sheik nodded firmly. “That too, and anyone we pass. But we need to go as directly as we can to the castle. Most of these tiny villages have nothing the moblin want, and if we try to warn all of them we will be caught out in the open by the army.”

“But...”

“All we can do is hope the Goddesses protect them,” Sheik cut him off. “Villages can be rebuilt, but if the castle falls there is no hope for anyone.”

“It’s not the villages I’m worried about.”

“I know,” Sheik replied softly.
The outer edge of Hyrule was only sparsely populated at best, so it was noon before they saw another soul. A shepherd sat in the shade of a tree, watching his flock graze lazily. The young boy, no more than fifteen, had a mess of brown hair and dark eyes. His clothes were worn and a bit tattered, as if he had not changed in a while, and his face was smudged with dirt. His staff lay on the ground next to him.

He lifted his gaze when he noticed their approach; rolling smoothly to his feet, he took his staff in hand. Shading his eyes from the harsh sunlight, he moved the meet them. The goats bleated in protest as to horses moved between them.

Link slid to the ground as they stopped in front of the boy. A full head shorter and still showing the lankiness of youth, the boy watching them undaunted. His nose wrinkled slightly, but to his credit he said nothing.

“If you’s come ta steal mah purse, you’s out a luck. I don’ carry no rupees out here. And beating me won’t make them magically appear.”

Sheik raised an amused eyebrow and gave Link a once over before he laughed. “I guess we do look like a couple of bandits.” He slid to the ground. The boy lifted his chin, unafraid. “We were in the swamps hunting moblin and are on our way to Hyrule Castle. We need supplies for ourselves and our horses. Where is the nearest village?”

“You’s also need a bath,” the boy replied, pinching his nose.

“The hard way, then,” Sheik huffed. The boy’s eyes widened slightly and he stepped back, bringing his staff up. Sheik reached into his pouch and pulled out a red rupee, flipping it with his thumb so it landed in the grass at the boy’s feet. The shepherd looked down in surprise, then slowly bent to collect the currency. Placing it between his teeth, he tested it.

“The village is that way,” he answered, pointing over his shoulder.

“There is another one in it for you if you show us the way,” Link added.

The boy looked around at his flock for a moment, then looked at the rupee in his hand. By the look in his eyes, Link guessed it was probably more money than he had ever seen in his life. “All right. Let me gather the flock and I’ll show you the way.”

Link swung back onto Nightfire’s saddle and made short work of bringing in the wayward goats and getting them moving in the direction the shepherd boy indicated. Sheik proved to be more of a hindrance than a help, frightening several goats away from the herd.

&&&

Link sighed as he dumped a bucket of water over his head. Hot water had never felt so good. Dropping the bucket onto a table next to the tub and pushing his wet hair from his eyes, he grabbed the lye soap. The roughly cut block of lard and ash did wonders to scrape away the filth covering his skin. He could not remember his last proper bath.

He dumped another bucket of water over himself to rinse away the scum of dirt and soap, before he sank deep into the warm water. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and relaxed.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” he asked.

“Not sure,” Sheik answered. “But I know the swamps are to the south, so if we head north we will eventually come to familiar territory.”

“How long?”

“A day, maybe two, I think.”

Link sighed as he lifted his head and rested it against the edge of the tube. “And to the castle?”

“A week at least, maybe more.”

“Great... Can we really beat them there? They already have a head start of who knows how many days.”

“Moblin are not exactly an organized species, Hero,” Sheik answered. The sound of soft splashing told Link he was rinsing off and sinking into the water to soak. “I can’t say how many were living at the castle, but it was far, far more than would normally congregate. Several thousand at least, and who knows how many in the surrounding swamp. Even an organized army of that size would have trouble moving from place to place.”

“Why is you talkin about moblin an armies?”

Both boys sat up abruptly and turned to see the shepherd boy standing in the doorway to the bathhouse. He had fresh, wool towels draped over his arm and a dark frown on his face.

“There goes our last chance to relax.” Sheik sighed. “Hand over the towels, kid, and go gather the villagers. It will be easiest if we only have to explain this once.”

The villagers were gathered outside the bathhouse by the time they came out. They had donned fresh clothes, the ones they had arrived in being well beyond salvaging. The sun was low on the horizon, casting the world into deep shadows and golden highlights. It gave the lonely village an ominous air.

“Kemen said you were talkin of moblin,” an older man addressed them in a serious voice. “Are they headen this way?”

“Yes, they are,” Sheik replied calmly as he finished tying his scarf in place.

“You should have said something right away!” a woman cried, “We need to get the children out.” A wave of panic swept over the villagers and everyone began talking at once. Men crowded, together talking quickly about the best way to fortify the village against the attack or demanding more information. Women began to make lists of supplies they would need. The more they talked, the louder they got, until they were all screaming to be heard over each other.

“SILENCE!” Link jumped at the volume and command in Sheik’s voice, and the villagers were instantly still, only the sound of a few brave crickets filling the coming night. Sheik glared at everyone in turn. “You cannot fight the horde that is coming. This isn’t a few moblin stumbling around outside their territory; it is an army of thousands. Led by a moblin who is nothing like you have ever seen. He is bigger, he is meaner, and he can use magic. If you try to fight, you will die. Everyone pack only the essentials and leave.”

Turning sharply on his heel, he marched toward the small hut they had rented for the night – the village being too small to have its own inn or tavern. Not sure what else to do, Link followed in his wake. Nightfire and Blu had been unsaddled and tied to a hitch outside the hut and barely acknowledge the men as they passed. Sheik snapped the door open sharply, not even breaking stride, and Link found himself shutting it obediently behind them.

Sheik flopped down on his straw mattress and threw an arm over his eyes with a huff. “Stupid backwater farmers. Think they can handle anything.”

“Should I mention that I am one of those farmers?” Link said, casting him a peeved glare.

Sheik lifted his arm enough to peer at Link. “Considering you went cliff diving, rode a dragon, twice, and have just come back from trying to kill a moblin born of hell itself, I would say you are not helping their case.” Link made a rude gesture. Sheik chuckled and let his arm cover his eyes again. “Go to bed, Hero. We need to leave at sunrise and cover as much ground as we can. I don’t expect us to get much sleep in the next week.”

Link sighed as he pulled his weapons off and laid them by the bed. “What about the villagers?”

“What about them?”

“Will they be okay?” At Sheik’s shrugged response, Link frowned. “Don’t you care?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Hero. I hope they all make it, but we have other priorities. The kingdom needs you. We need to get to the castle and prepare for war.” He shrugged off his weapons and armor.

“And if Ganon catches them out in the open?” Link pressed. Sheik did not answer as he finished undressing and carefully packed his things for the morning. “Well?!”

“What do you want me to say, Link? That he will find the goodness in his own heart at the sight of frightened children and renounce his bid for power and dedicate his life to raising butterflies?”

“I can’t just let them be slaughtered,” Link protested.

“Your duty is to Hyrule, the kingdom and the Princess. We can stay with these people and run the risk that we don’t arrive far enough ahead of Ganon to prepare to meet him, then, not only will they die, but so will hundreds, if not thousands, of others. Ganon isn’t going to be satisfied just taking over the castle; he will overrun the kingdom. And if he ever gets that much of a stronghold, everyone, everywhere, will suffer the consequences.”

“But...”

Sheik patted his shoulder and offered an encouraging smile from behind his scarf. “Doing what is right is not always easy.” Link gave him a half-lidded glance and a snort.

&&&

Sheik shook Link awake an hour before the sun breached the horizon. Despite tired muscles and lack of sleep, they pulled their clothes on and stepped out into the chilly morning. Nightfire and Blu snorted and grumbled as they were saddled. Sheik dug into their supplies and brought out a breakfast of fruit and bread.

As they passed quietly out of the sleeping village, Link took note of the furniture that had been piled between the huts to form makeshift fortifications. Livestock were crowded into the town, their corrals having been broken down for their precious wood. The huts closest to the center of town had been packed with foodstuffs.

Sighing, Link focused his gaze forward as they led their horses through a gate made of a large table. Sheik was right. He could not sacrifice a kingdom for a village. They took a minute to find their bearings, then spurred their horses north.

The sun slowly rose, chasing the chill from the air, but Link could not shake the feeling something was not right. The weight of silence hung in the air, as if the world were holding its breath and waiting. Not even a drowsy cricket tried to fill the morning mist with its lonely song. It made Link’s skin crawl. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tried to shake the feeling away.

A scream, clear and terrified, cut through the mist. Link’s head snapped up and he spun around. Wispy black smoke coiled heavenward; even from this distance he could feel it tickling his nose and taste it faintly in the back of his throat. His heart leapt into his throat and he put his heels to Nightfire’s side.

“Link!” Sheik called after him in surprise. Ignoring him, Link raced back the way they had come. It did not take long for the village to come into sight.

Flames danced on several huts and smoke mixed with the morning mist into a heavy haze. Shapes rushed back and forth behind the curtain in a chaotic dance of shadows and sounds. His ears buzzed from the rising volume and the smoke burned his eyes and throat.

As he approached, a squat creature that looked vaguely like a mutated pig covered in plate armor charged. Link did not break stride as he notched an arrow and released it into the creature’s skull. Death was instant and the thing stumbled, skidding across the ground.
Racing through the remains of a makeshift barrier, he charged into town. More of the creatures were rooting about. Many were gorging themselves on grain and the corpses of livestock and villagers. Other villagers huddled on the roofs of the huts that had yet to catch fire. They tried to make themselves as small as possible, because large leather-winged birds circled overhead like morbid vultures.

Pulling out an arrow, Link drew it to his cheek and released. The shaft whistled through the air, landing with a solid thunk in the chest of one of the birds. With a choked squawk, it tumbled from the sky as the others scattered in surprise.

A squall ripped the air and Link turned to see several of the armored creatures charging at him. Cursing, he turned his bow on them and fired. The first arrow went wide, glancing off the armor plate. Nightfire nickered and balked, kicking out as one of the creatures snapped at his leg. Link drew his sword and jammed it down into the closest monster’s skull.

Nightfire charged, knocking another creature out of his way. Link held on with his knees as the horse dodged wildly between creatures, swooping birds, and the spreading fire. The world quickly became a blur of smoke and fire, blood and leathery skin, the singing of swords and arrows mixing with screams of terror and pain.

“LINK!”

He spun in his saddle, the Master Sword making a sweeping arc and clashing with one of Sheik’s thin blades. He stared at the older man for a minute without moving, his breath coming in short sharp pants. Then, slowly, he blinked and looked around. Most of the huts were on fire or wrecked. Bodies, Hyrulian, monster, and animal alike, littered the ground; blood lay in pools and splattered like paint.

Turning away, Sheik raised his free hand. “Water.” On command, a wave of water rose up like the surface of Lake Hylia on a windy day. Water sloshed over the huts, quickly dousing the flames with a sharp hiss and a rush of steam. Sheik lowered his hand and the water subsided as if it had never been.

Link let his sword drop, as if just realizing it was still crossed with Sheik’s. Breathing hard, he ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back coated in sweat and blood – though if it was his own or something else’s, he was not sure. Vaguely he realized he had lost his hat.

Cautiously, the villagers began to emerge from the wreckage. Link’s heart sank to see how few there were. Less than a dozen stumbled out, most were burned or bleeding, or both. Sweeping the small crowd, his eyes fell on Kemen. The shepherd boy was leaning heavily on a girl’s shoulder.

“Link, see if you can find a wagon and something to draw it,” Sheik said in a level voice. “Load everyone into it. I’m going to sweep the village for survivors and stray helmasaurs that need to be killed.”

“What about the dead?”

“Leave them.”

Link was taken aback by the bluntness of the answer, but Sheik rode off before he could reply. Pushing his thoughts aside, he slid from Nightfire’s back. Telling the villagers to stick together and not wander away, he made his way through the remains of the village. The wagon was easy to come by. An old hay cart had been turned over during the melee; its contents had been spilled and scattered and one side had been singed, but it was usable.

With a heave, he righted it and pulled it back to the gathered Hyrulians. The girl helped Kemen onto what little hay remained before crawling in after him and settling his head on her lap. The others climbed in after them. Link noticed most of them were young, none older than himself.

Making sure they were secure on the cart and that it would hold their weight, he went in search of something to pull it. A quick look through the village and it became painfully obvious he would find nothing. Any creature tethered had been eaten; anything loose had been eaten or run away.

Frustrated, he returned to the cart to find Sheik tried in vain to hitch two large billy goats to the front of the cart. Kemen was trying to advise him, but could not leave the cart to help. Raising an amused eyebrow, he told Sheik where he had found the cart and told him to look for a yolk. Taking the first goat by its horns, backed it up into the cart. Using some rope, handed to him by some one on the cart, he tied it to the left tongue.

Repeating the process with the second billy, he finished just as Sheik returned with a slightly charred yolk. Without missing a beat, Link took the yolk and attached it to the goats and cart. “You ain’t too bad at that.” Kemen offered as Link swung back up onto Nightfire’s back. He took a long rope and tied it to his saddle horn with a quick release knot.

“I used to work for the Lon Lon Ranch, “ Link replied with a shrug.

“Really?” Kemen’s eyes widened, impressed. “Man, I’d give my right arm to get a job there.”

“You wouldn’t be much of a ranch hand without a right arm,” the girl next to him replied teasingly. Kemen chuckled, but it quickly dissolved into a painful cough. The girl frowned and cradled his head in her lap, scolding him gently.
“They need a doctor.” Link frowned as he tugged on the rope to get the goats moving. The cart rattled noisily in their wake as they made their way out of the ruined village.

“I know,” Sheik replied, “but the best we can do is move on to the next village and hope they have a midwife or potions maker. As it is, we only have two potions left between us, and we may need those if it comes to a fight. Our food will be stretched thin as well.”
“But–”

“I’m not asking you to understand, Link. My first priority is getting you to the castle in one piece. Everything else has to be secondary. You are the Hero of Hyrule, chosen by the Goddesses. This kingdom needs you now more than ever.”

Link’s lips formed a hard line and he said nothing for a long time. “How can you have such blind faith in me? I couldn’t save a village, only a few days ago I was dead, hell, I can’t even beat you. What makes you think I can kill this moblin, Ganon, where you failed?”

Sheik turned his dark green eyes on him, studying the younger man with a strange calm. “Honestly, you wouldn’t be my first choice. There are far greater swordsmen, many greater than myself. Most you will probably never meet unless you seek them out. They live most of their lives as hermits, whiling away the years perfecting their technique. But you have something they don’t: passion and courage. And, at the end of the day, that counts for more.

“Those swordsmen could easily slay Ganon and all the moblin. In fact, Zelda has personally sent for them many times, asking them to protect the kingdom and its people. Their response is always the same: ‘I am not a sword for hire.’

“I can teach you to fight, I can help you find these masters so you can learn their techniques, but I cannot teach you courage. You took on a challenge set before you, despite not ever having lifted a sword. You can, and should, question your merit, but never doubt that you were chosen for this job for a reason. I have seen very talented soldiers run from fights, and I’ve seen useless little farm boys take on the weight of the world.” Sheik gave him a smile behind his scarf. “Besides, the Goddesses created this world, and I don’t believe they would choose a champion that could not truly defend it.”

&&&

The day had quickly turned nasty. Sheets of icy rain were tossed about by the wind and lightning violently slashed the sky. Despite being noon, the sky was the color of mossy pitch, and sickly green thunderheads rose in rolling heaps above them. It took all of Link’s skill to keep the horses and goats from panicking.

Link and Sheik had done their best to cover the cart with a spare blanket, but it quickly soaked through and provided little cover. Only the road kept them heading in the correct direction. Wet blond hair hung in Link’s eyes and refused to move, no matter how many times he wiped it away. Sheik’s breathing sounded wet and gasping behind his scarf.

No one spoke, and by the time the next village was in sight they had lost track of time. The village headman quickly took them in, offering them warm food and a fire. He sent for the midwife, the village being too small for a doctor or a potions maker.

Link sighed happily as he sipped some hot milk. A blanket was draped over his shoulders to keep his back warm while he faced the fire. His clothes hung on a laundry line near the fire so they would dry. Around him he could hear the small house groaning under the assault of the wind and water.

Sheik appeared, his own blanket over his shoulders and mug in hand, and hung his wet clothes on the line. Link said nothing as he hung up his scarf and sat so the scarred side of his face was out of sight.

“How long till the storm lets up?” Link asked over the rim of his cup.

“Not sure. It still looks like the ninth gate of hell out there with no sign of a break in any direction. It will probably be morning before we can even think about leaving. The good news is, even moblins can’t do much in this weather, so we shouldn’t lose too much of our lead.”

“Can’t you use your magic to calm this down?”

Sheik laughed softly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but my magic isn’t that strong. Not by a long shot.” For a long time neither said anything, just soaking up the warmth of their drinks and the fire. “You had better go to bed; we need to get up early tomorrow.”

“What about–”

“Persistent, aren’t you?” Sheik said with a smile and a small laugh. “I’ve already spoken with the headman. They will be leaving in the morning as well. He has also agreed to look after the villagers we brought with us, so we can move faster.”

“Good.”