LOZ:Twilight Princess: Ch.45 P1 Rev

----Chapter 45:  The Power of Courage PART 1


Lightning flashed and spread an ominous shadow over the fields of Eldin.  Then came the pouring rain, churning the dirt, sweat, and blood into a brew of muck.  The rain created a hanging mist that washed over the battlefield, and the slight winds carried it like wraiths trying desperately to cling to life.

A high screech sounded, reverberating with a metallic noise.  Zant, King of Shadows, drove one of his curved blades full through the armor of a Hylian knight, and just as another slashed out at his back, a shadow beast wrapped its claws around the knight.  It choked the life from him, pouring darkness into his soul as all warmth left his body.  When the knight hung limp in its grasp, it tossed the corpse away like a broken toy.

Then a raging war cry clapped through the air, and the steel of Ashei’s blade met solidly against the white edge of Zant’s weapon before it could kill another young soldier.  He growled like a child against her defense, bringing down his second blade as he danced wildly about her.  This attack failed as well, though, for the Hylian general caught Zant’s blade and pushed him back with the full might of his broad shoulders.  Zant nearly tripped as he stumbled backward.

Ashei sent a quick nod of thanks to the general and they gathered in close with three other soldiers to prepare for the next assault.  Ashei gripped her broadsword tightly in her double-handed grip, sweat pouring from her dark-haired brow.

Zant hissed like the animal he was, and all at once the helmet protecting his head clicked away to reveal his sickly skin and the harsh yellow pupils of his glowing orange eyes.  His coif fell to his nape and red hair tumbled around his grotesque features, ravaged by hatred and despair … and death.  He was a vessel of pure hate now, bent to every whim of Ganondorf, bound by the grace of his power.  Finally and truthfully, nothing more than a wild and ravenous animal.  His hiss turned into a growl behind his crooked teeth, and his angry cry sounded more like a snapping bark.

With his entourage of shadow beasts, he charged into the circle of Hylians and sunk his blades in for the kill.

Just as a shadow beast leapt for the soldier on the outside of their gathering, a horse swooped by, its rider knocking it back with a spiked mace.  Ashei had no room to glance away from her battle with the usurper king, or she would have recognized the blacksmith of Ordon immediately.

Rusl did not stop to help further; he raced on toward another group of Hylians struggling against a dark knight.  He brought his feet up onto the saddle of his borrowed steed and steadied himself as he aligned his ride.  Once he drew close, he leapt from his mount, unsheathing the blade resting at his hip, and landed directly atop its giant shoulder.  Before the knight could respond to the new threat, Rusl had leapt again, driving his sword through its spine right where its heart would have been.  Its sword arm flailed as it collapsed into rubble, and the surrounding soldiers jumped away or threw up shields in protection.

With the knight defeated, Rusl quickly gazed across the line of Hylian soldiers and saw none wounded.  His deed done he turned to locate his horse, finding it trampling bulblins as it raced off.  A grim smile lit his lips at that, but it was erased when he took notice of a wounded Hylian standing before a crumpled horse, spear through its neck.  The soldier held his arm tightly across his chest as he battled solely against a shadow beast and two bokoblins.

Rusl dashed across the field, hacking through one enemy after the next as they sprouted in his path.  By the time he had reached the battle, the knight had tripped over one of his horse’s legs, sword dislodged from his grasp.  The knight scrambled vainly to reach his fallen blade, for just as his fingers touched the guard, the shadow beast had plucked him up, hissing its ballad of twilit vulgarity.

The knight struggled in its grasp and kicked out at the bokoblin that approached with jagged sword raised.  Just as he thought he might die, blood splattered against his face.  He thought it his end, but when he looked down in the absence of pain, he realized a blade had pierced through the shadow beast’s chest from its backside.  Its dying shriek echoed across the plain as it dropped him to his knees.

The knight grabbed his blade and swung it around to attack the bokoblins, but once he reared back, he stopped at the sight of Rusl, member of the Resistance.  The two bokoblins lay dead at his feet, as he extended a hand to calm the knight, who cringed at the renewed jolt of pain searing the inside of his shoulder.  It was no ordinary wound, for he had been one of few to survive the onslaught of the sage-blade.

Rusl knelt down to the knight as he leaned back against the body of his horse.  Sweat drenched his sandy hair, rippling through the bloodstains of the shadow beast.  Rusl had only meant to check that the knight would live, but as he called for the nearby Shad to render assistance, the knight clutched his arm tight, pulling him in.

“P--Princess….  The prin…” he tried through his heaving breaths and the intense pain.

A wave of alarm struck Rusl as he scanned the battlefield.  He saw the princess nowhere.  Nor could he find Link and Epona.  A sick feeling grasped at his navel, and a fear crept into him, one whispering that he would find Link broken at the edge of the world.

He awoke to his surroundings once more at a sudden shriek from Shad.  Rusl turned, finding that Shad had fallen in a heap under the might of a towering shadow beast.  Its tentacles whipped and rippled as it skittered toward Shad, hungering for Hylian flesh, thirsting for revenge against the light.

The blacksmith launched himself at the beast in the same moment that a spear shot sidelong through its head.  It collapsed immediately without another breath.

Rusl and Shad turned their attention to the man bounding for them on horseback, the white of its mane mirroring the beard of its rider.  Auru.

The old man drew up beside them, bending over just slightly to reclaim his spear.

“I say … f-fantastic shot,” cheered Shad, trying desperately to keep the shock from his voice.  He pushed his cracked spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose, struggling to act as at peace among the battle as Rusl and Auru.

“Have you seen Link?” interjected Rusl quickly.

“With the princess, last I saw,” he replied, continually examining their immediate surroundings for danger.

His response did little to ease Rusl’s discomfort, but he was forced to keep his mind in the moment.  Protecting Shad and the wounded Hylian was his direct priority.  Auru acknowledged the injured soldier and directed Rusl’s attention to a cluster of Hylians nearby, where those who had been lying injured within Telma’s bar had been transported, lying helpless as two full units of knights--as well as the ferocious Telma--fought off the hordes.

Rusl ordered Shad to help the wounded knight to his feet, and the young scholar did so without question, trying his best to console the moaning knight as he took his arm over his shoulders.  They hobbled along as Rusl defended them, and Auru sped away in the attempt to clear a path.

They met the howling war cries of Telma as she and the knight alongside her cut through bulblin after bokoblin.  Auru’s mount trampled over several of the oncoming swarm, as he used his spear like a sword, smacking its sharp point and blunt end into target after target in a whirl of endless motion.

Auru drew is horse up at the front of the guard once the nearby enemies had been dispatched.  Behind him, Shad guided the wounded Hylian into the camp of the wounded.  The civilians who had also been transported to the field were gathered here, most answering the need for nurses, tending to the hurts of the soldiers who continued to gather within the shrine of defending knights.

“How you holding up, honey?” Telma called back to Shad as he left the knight to the nurses and drew up beside her, arms numb from having borne the soldier’s weight.  He gave her a cringing nod and brought up his sword again, nearly screaming as he attacked a charging bokoblin on sheer reflex.  It had not killed the monster, but he had left it staggering enough for Telma to finish the job.  Shad’s sudden reaction to the threat bolstered his courage and a small, unsure smile replaced his creased brows.

A golden flutter in the far distance drew Auru’s attention after dispatching another foe, and he realized it was the golden head and white shimmer of Princess Zelda.  She had been struggling with her horse’s reins, racing toward him, but then she reared high, turning her mount, the great crimson Epona.  At once, she was away, hugging close to Epona as they raced through the hordes to the right.  The motion happened in the snap of a finger, but when Auru had seen his princess rising high above the masses, time had seemed to slow, and relief had flooded him as his vigor was renewed.

Yet, just as he had recognized her face, a sudden terror wrenched at his heart.

Link was no longer with her.  Epona was his mount, and Auru had seen the three of them bolt off together, unified.

He looked for the telltale color of his green tunic among the multitudes.  He could not find him, which frightened him, but not nearly as much as the terror that struck him in the following moment.  When he followed Princess Zelda’s line of sight, followed the direction of her racing horse … he found Link … lying unmoving in the muck and mist that shrouded him and the ominous black giant stepping nearer and nearer to the hero with every quaking heartbeat of Auru.

In his reigning stupor, Auru did not see the roaring bokoblin closing in.  His horse tossed and kicked at the foe, and he struggled to remain aloft.  By the time he realized what was happening, Rusl had already gutted the enemy.  Auru’s thanks was silent in eyes alight with terror, Rusl could see, and he followed his stare when Auru returned his sight to the distant Link.

Rusl gasped, fear strangling his words, like the fright a father felt at the brink of watching his son die.  In the moment he called for a horse, Auru had fought past his fears and come alive again.  As Rusl mounted the armored horse drawn up to him, Auru bellowed, waving his spear in the direction of Princess Zelda’s rocketing figure.  His horse reared and then took off like fire on a dry plain, and Rusl followed close behind.

As the pair sped across the battlefield, their cries rallied several more horseback knights who sped alongside their flanks, weapons raised for the charge.

Far ahead of her knights, Princess Zelda panted as Epona galloped at full speed.  Her breath caught in a gasp as a dark knight tumbled over in their path, but Epona reacted swiftly and bounded over the obstacle with ease.  Zelda held fast and close, trusting that Epona would reach her master in time.

===============

The voracious glee humming within Ganondorf sprung into a laugh as he looked down on the stumbling figure of the boy so many had come to call Hero.  But this boy was no hero.  He was a lost child fumbling and grasping for meaning, trying desperately to accept the fate which had been so cruelly cast upon him by his gods.  It was by some prank that they had chosen this pathetic, small animal in whom to house their power … that they would guide him on a quest to face him here at last.  The joke made him laugh in the face of Link and his gods.

He would crush him so completely, shatter his unbreakable spirit into so many shards, that the legends to follow his reign hundreds of years later would remember no fragment of this boy’s existence.  History was written by those victorious, and he would cut Link from every corner of Hyrule.  After this day no one would dare speak his name.

The boy from the forest.  The warrior in green.  It all reminded him of the boy’s ancestor, that same small child, so feeble, without the strength to even hold a proper sword, he imagined…. The same blue eyes that had defied him so long ago.  When Ganondorf looked into those eyes, it was years ago, and he saw that little boy again, staring at him from behind a young princess and her glorious sages and knights who had subdued him.

How he cursed that day.

He had held onto that hatred even in the void of Twilight.  He breathed because of the vengeance filling his veins, brimming in his bones.  It was the fiber of his existence.

The coming dawn would give rise to his reign, his ultimate majesty.

When Link gazed up at the approaching figure of Ganondorf, his eyes still felt hazy.  He bit back the pain through gritted teeth.  Shoulder quaking, head throbbing, he had to stand, had to gather his wits … but no matter how hard he tried, he could not bring himself to rise.

His struggle brought new fuel to the demon’s callous chuckle, and he charged at Link, two hands fisted around the hilt of the sage-blade.

The sudden movement dazed Link in the same moment that it brought his eyes into focus.  He scurried to raise the Master Sword … but realized it was no longer in his grasp.  Quickly, he plucked up two blades dropped by felled Hylian knights and lifted them to defend against Ganondorf’s downward thrust … just as it would have struck his skull.  But the blades were no match against the blade of the sages, and it sliced through their steel like butter.  Link barely had time to duck in order to avoid the shrieking magical metal of Ganondorf’s sword.

That was proof enough.  If he was to have any chance at defeating Ganondorf once and for all, he required the blade of evil’s bane, the sword of the legendary hero.

Before he could move to defend himself, Ganondorf had drawn himself up to his full height over him and gave a swift and forceful kick.  The hit landed in Link’s gut and sent him flying to the ground again meters away.  The brutal blow gagged him and he coughed a string of vomit, holding his stomach as he gasped for air.

Link struggled to his knees, head lowered from the pain.

When Ganondorf spoke, Link could hear the snarl written across his face, feel the laughter in his tone, the victory.   “See how Hyrule’s hero bows before me.”

Link raised his sapphire eyes against the thunder and pelting rain and found the yellow shimmer of Ganondorf.  “Never,” the hero said.  “Hyrule will never bow to your reign.”

The confident rebellion in his eyes angered Ganondorf, and Link could see it in his shadowed eyes.  The demon’s once fine red hair hung in tangled spikes and curls around his head; some were even frayed from where the Dark Beast’s mane had been set ablaze.  This king, with his ruffled hair, soiled armor, and fraying cape, now truly looked like the demon Link had first expected to encounter.

Link spotted the glint of the Master Sword to his left and immediately raced over to seize it.  Ganondorf did nothing to stop him, merely let loose new laughter as he took a careful and slow step forward.  Link held up the sword as he waited, stooped low with feet constantly shifting his weight.

“An impressive-looking blade…” bellowed Ganondorf.  His humming laughter then immediately died.  “But nothing more.”  He glowered down at Link, so small compared to his great height.  “Would you hear my desire?” he asked with the hint of a grin, and he brandished the sage-blade before him as streaks of lightning silhouetted his frame with a clap of thunder.  “I will take this foul blade and use it to blot out the light forever.”

He was not sure, but Link thought that his words carried a subtext that also meant the suffocation of his light and life … and any other like him who would oppose his reign.  And the demon would use the very blade that had executed him, the very weapon that had sealed his fate and brought him back into the world with a power beyond everything else.  The sage-blade had birthed him anew.

Ganondorf approached him then with slow, calculated steps.  Link held his ground, held his stance, waiting for the attack.

Then, from behind Ganondorf, Link spotted the figure of Zelda racing toward him astride Epona, and his spirits lifted at the sight.  She held up the bow once more, ready to aim another powerful attack at the demon king.  Ganondorf noticed this, however, could read the renewed hope in Link’s eyes and the reflection of Zelda’s light within their shimmer, and he grinned.  With a flick of his hand, an orange barrier flickered to life, enshrining Link and he within its large circle.  

Only the two of them.

The power of his magic caused a massive shockwave to blast outward from its border, knocking every soul to the ground.  Epona reared and shrieked as the wave of energy overpowered her and sent her reeling to the ground.  Zelda, too, screamed as she sailed from the saddle and landed hard against the wet ground.  Grunting, she dug her silk hands--now stained with layers of mud and blood--into the ground and pushed herself up.  The bow had flown from her grasp, and she could not find it.

The weapon would have done her little good, though, for when she turned back to face Ganondorf and Link, she saw Hylians already charging the barrier and being flung back again by its cruel magic.  She threw up an arm to shield her eyes from the flare of orange light that coursed through them, and she thought surely they had perished.

“Princess!” she heard, and she tossed her gaze about.  Suddenly, she was ducking back down into the grime to avoid the wide swing of a dark knight, but just as soon did it crumble to the ground, tossing up the dirty brew beneath.  

Zelda rose to meet the face of her general, broadsword still at the ready.  Alongside him came the familiar face of her childhood tutor, Auru.  She had not seen his wrinkled face in years, and she found comfort in his kind eyes, eyes that had always twinkled with genuine care for his princess.  He had been knocked from his mount as well, and instead of waiting to right the creature, he had closed the remaining distance between Zelda and him with a sprint.  She grasped his forearm firmly, as if looking for guidance once more from his gentle eyes.

It pained Auru that he had no counsel for her save a hand that grasped hers in kind.

Then they saw the rush of movement flying past them.  Rusl, who had reclaimed his seat upon his mount, bolted toward the barrier.  His eyes were alight with panic as he trampled and bashed through the horde that rose between the barrier and him.  He could hear and feel the hum that vibrated through the field from the magic, and he had seen the way it had smacked away the assailing Hylians with tendrils of light.

Princess Zelda did not wait for her entourage as she sped off in Rusl’s wake.  The general called after her, and he, Auru, and the surrounding knights raced after her, forming a protective bubble around their young sovereign as she made her way toward the barrier.

She heard the resounding shrieks just as shadow beasts descended upon her.  She stopped in her tracks and grabbed up a sword from the battlefield as her escorts halted and formed around her.  Zelda held out the blade with a grim expression, and she met the beasts in battle, steel against claw.  Her skirt and hair twirled about her small frame as she slashed through the leading beast, her knights engaging the surrounding shadows with matched ferocity.  Seeing their princess in action, pressing the attack, bolstered their nerve, and when she yelped and collapsed, they only fought harder.

Auru and the general formed around the princess as she rose, still grasping her weapon, but now holding tightly to her arm as well.  A beast had torn right through her pauldron and landed a nasty cut.  She gritted her teeth at the pain and assured Auru that the wound was nothing.

As the general and one of her knights brought down a shadow beast, the piercing cry of the Twili usurper lit the air on fire.  Its tone rang in their ears, staggering some, and suddenly, the shadows were retreating.  The unprovoked withdrawal puzzled Zelda and her entourage as they searched for Zant, who they found standing opposite the barrier at the head of his still massive force of beasts, bublins, and bokoblins.

The general thought it a ruse, but as the seconds ticked by without assault and the stragglers of the shadow army retreated to join their comrades, he slowly let his sword hang low.  Yet, he did not lower his guard entirely.  Strangely, Zelda and the Hylian army came to understand their foe’s intent.  At the will of his master, Zant would make them suffer, to watch as their hero fell at the might of his god.

The general’s voice rang strong throughout the battlefield, calling knights to drawn back and come into formation some distance from the barrier opposite the horde of shadows.  He and Auru followed their princess as she bounded to the head of her army.  She came alongside Rusl, who had dismounted his horse.  Pain unlike any other filled his eyes, and Zelda, though she did not know his face, understood that his connection to Link was deep.  Even the tender hand she placed on his arm could not turn his frown, and the princess’s sorrow deepened as she turned back to the image before her.

Helpless.  She had never felt so powerless.  No one could lift a finger to the terror within the barrier.  

Keeping a close eye on his pacing enemy as well, Link had watched as the armies had formed around them.  He had seen the barrier flick away the pressing knights, and he came face-to-face with the terror that had been welling in his bones since the sages had first told him of the King of Evil.

He had gotten what he had wanted.  To face the demon king alone.

Even without Midna.

The thought of her rekindled the fire in his belly.

Ganondorf.  Midna’s murderer.

When the demon king charged, the memory of Midna fueled Link’s legs and the barking cry that cracked louder than the thunder quaking against the surrounding canyons.  Link leapt against Ganondorf’s attack, and Sage-Blade and Master Sword met in a dance of sparking light.  Link clenched his teeth, using every ounce of his strength to command his flexing muscles.  Ganondorf barely broke a sweat as he pressed his blade down, the Master Sword locked between the dual guards of his sword.

With a twist and burst of strength, Link threw Ganondorf from him, but the bulky king did not lose balance.  He grinned.

Link backed away, donning his shield against his right forearm.  He twirled the Master Sword, feeling its weight, its power, preparing himself for the grueling battle ahead of him.

His final hour.

Link studied the king’s slow, steady movements.  He knew the dexterity of his small stature would be his saving grace against an enemy of sheer brute force.  Beating Ganondorf to the offensive, Link raced back in, ducking under the sweeping horizontal attack the demon unleashed.  He slashed upward, but the king was quick and very skilled.  Ganondorf brought his blade back in for the parry, slapping away the Master Sword with ease, but Link did not despair.  He thrust his blade, and Ganondorf caught it with the blunt side of his sword.  Link sliced in a wide arc, and Ganondorf blocked it vertically, holding the blade within his opposite hand to secure it.

Even though none of his attacks pierced the king’s defense, Link learned as he fought.  He understood the way he used his body in the brunt of his attacks, noticed the way he mostly used his elbow and shoulder without much movement in his wrist.  His movements were slow because they were so carefully calculated, so patient.

Then the game changed after Ganondorf kicked out at Link.  The Hylian dodged and thrust in again, only to find the king leaping up and over him.  Link twisted about just in time to see him land and slash out at his toes.  The swiftness of his movements and the weightlessness he had seemed to embody startled Link.  He only just leapt back as Ganondorf’s blade chimed through the air.

Link brought his shield around as the king unleashed a series of attacks, deep thrusts and wide swings, all empowered by his broad shoulder.  Link defended against each with his Hylian metal, each hit sending a numbing jolt that vibrated through his arm.  He was nearly knocked to the ground again from the blow that followed, a jarring hit from his left elbow that knocked Link’s shield to the side.  When Ganondorf whirled about and lunged his opposite arm forward with the glimmering sage-blade, Link barely had a window to knock it back with the Master Sword.

Ganondorf’s amused grin disintegrated into a growling frown as he took a step back, brandishing his blade to the side.

The Hylian hero took advantage of this retrograde and pressed the attack with several diagonal slices and a quick thrust at his middle.  All his attacks were parried, however, and when Ganondorf caught the Master Sword against his blade on the last attack, he pushed back and swiped at the Hylian’s neck.  Link dropped and rolled to the right to avoid the blow, and he popped up and readied his blade anew.

That was when he observed possibly the only advantage he would claim over this demon king.

With his sword tightly gripped in his right hand, Ganondorf was slow to cover his left flank.  It was only a few seconds, but Link would take any window to his advantage.  Link hid the realization from his eyes and his shifting body that itched to immediately use the vulnerability against the king.

He let the short seconds tick by for Ganondorf to draw up his attack again, and when Link dodged another horizontal slash, he feigned left.  As Ganondorf’s blade cut down through the air with impossible speed, Link rolled back to the right.  He drew up behind Ganondorf, leaping up with a mighty diagonal slice that tore through his cape and met the unguarded fabric on the side of his lower back.

A guttural howl broke through Ganondorf’s lungs as his back arched in response to the sudden sting.  He swiveled quickly to discourage further attacks, and with his harsh eyes reflecting the vicious color of the surrounding lightning, he glared down at the boy.

The mists flitted through their battlefield as the rains came harder.  The water helped to cleanse the wound on Link’s forehead, and he welcomed the relief.  Yet, with the water turning patches of the ground to mud, he found it more difficult to keep sure footing.  Link tested his weight as he mirrored Ganondorf’s movements, circling each other.  It was not long until Link had adapted to the new battlefield.  His body knew how to acclimatize to different landscapes, and he trusted his instincts.

Link saw the anger in Ganondorf abate once more, his frown transforming into a thin line of amusement.  He was enjoying himself.  The thought sent a prickle through Link’s arm, and he involuntarily found himself twirling his blade again.

Ganondorf watched the boy closely.  Perhaps he had the courage to face him, and some skill with a blade, but none of it would be enough.  He found pleasure in Link’s feeble struggle.  It was entertaining to watch this small animal defy him, knowing that whatever strength the boy thought he had, Ganondorf would see his end.

He would enjoy this.  

As Link scrutinized this demon’s every movement and the way he smiled even now, he finally understood.  He understood why Ganondorf had erected the barrier, why the spectacle.  It was not enough for Ganondorf to kill Link; he wanted to take his life before an audience, to rip away what little hope they had.  He would destroy their spirit by destroying their hero … right before their every eye.

Link looked across the faces of the Hyrulean people … and saw that Ganondorf’s scheme was indeed taking effect.  They saw Link’s struggle and feared for his failure.

A memory came back to him then, stronger than anything, and he could almost hear the boy speaking to him.  “Everyone talks about you,” the voice told him.  “Everyone says that … they wish they had your courage.”  The thought of young Soal, so hopeful, renewed his drive.  He remembered his promise, the vow to be Hryule’s sword and shield for as long as the people needed him.

“If my single life can save the lives of thousands….”  That was the last thing he had said to Rusl, the man he owed so much.  And he recalled his mentor’s proud words:  “A hero is not defined only in battle.  They also inspire.  They bring hope of a new horizon.  They return faith to faithless.  You are a hero in every way.  The courage of your heart is unmatched.”

This was what Ganondorf, and perhaps even the princess and her people, did not understand.  Though they stared on, helpless, the very fact was that they stood.  Here they had gathered … on this battlefield, to fight and defend home and family.  A new horizon was approaching, though the rolling thunder and lightning fed on its rising sun.  Everything Link had done, every evil he had banished, had been to bring together the people of Hyrule, to encourage their hearts to rise above their fears.

And so he had done.

Ganondorf may have thought the audience a distraction, but it only served to remind Link of every reason he had fought and bled for so long.

“This is not where your story will end.”  Link clung to that hope when he twirled his blade anew and then held it firm.  Every hope of Hyrule rested on the steel of his legendary blade, and that hope had been his constant companion all this time.

The demon king charged forward as he held his blade to the side in two strong fists.  His cape flapped wildly behind his heavy, sloshing footfalls.  The jubilant hunger in his eyes flashed like lightning, and his thunder came in a chuckling roar.

The hero waited until the last moment, body language fooling Ganondorf to believe the Hylian would stand his ground and parry.  Yet, just as Link twisted his sword up to block the attack, he stole back his blade right before making contact, letting his hilt slide in his grasp in order to hold it backwards, and he sidestepped in a whirling dance that sent his blade lashing across the king’s left forearm.

Ganondorf reacted quickly when his saber hit unyielding, muddy soil.  Using it to counterbalance his immense weight, he leaned and launched a violent kick at Link.  The Hylian backed away, and as soon as his feet had settled, Ganondorf was upon him with a thrust, giving Link little time to hit it away.

Link had nearly lost his balance in the muck from that parry, the tip of the demon’s blade singing very close to his neck.  He regained himself as he took quick, careful steps back and watched as Ganondorf followed in kind, closing the distancing with slow, pounding boots just as quickly as Link’s legs carried him backward.

The hero shifted then; as soon as Ganondorf had caught the pace of his backward footfalls, Link reversed and danced forward, skipping a step or two, launching forward with a thrust.

Yet, the demon reacted swiftly and easily batted away the Master Sword with the back of his empty fist.  He unleashed a wide attack at Link’s feet, and the Hylian leapt away.  Ganondorf rushed him then, bombarding Link with slash and thrust, repeatedly, one right after the other.  The small Hylian wove his blade in and around the king’s attacks, their magical steel colliding in radiant sparks as they danced and spun.  

The weight of Ganondorf’s attacks forced Link to give ground, continually backing as he parried.  He did not take his eyes from his enemy as he fought, but when his heightened senses detected a surge in the current behind him, he glanced back.  In that moment he felt the energy of the barrier humming against his clothes.  Even meters away, it scratched at him, hungering to rip him apart.  When Link turned back, the king’s crown glinted through rain-soaked, unkempt tendrils of crimson hair.  The curls of his mane had long been washed out, pulling his strands longer to stick to his cheeks and neck.  It was then, looking beyond their clanking blades and into the eyes of the devil that Link saw the renewed glee.

Under the pressing attack of Ganondorf, his only avenue of escape was to be consumed in the current of the barrier.  Link cursed himself for falling into the ruse just as he blocked another strike and felt the heavy boot of his enemy knock him back.  Unbalanced and arms flailing, he was open to attack.

He felt the vicious, scalding sting of the sage-blade cut along his left shoulder.

Link breathed in through clenched teeth, hissing at the pain, but he could not tend his wound or else he would suffer further.  He fought past the smarting ache, countering with a forceful downward swing as he rushed in.  The motion killed the nerves in his shoulder, and he could feel the dripping warmth of blood coating his skin and sleeve.  However, Ganondorf reacted in exactly the way he had hoped.

Grasping the blade of his sword in his opposite hand to defend horizontally against Link’s assault, Link acted quickly, for the king would not hold this stance for long.  

For his small stature and agile body, Link was entirely thankful.  As he had swung, he had kept the momentum in his toes, and now he pounced, leaping high.  All at once a foot landed against the sage-blade, and with the other he kicked down against the humming steel to send him airborne once more.  Link spun as he somersaulted above the towering Ganondorf, and he swung at the demon’s neck in midair.

The king whirled about in response, bringing up his defense just in time, and the power in his shoulder sent the airborne Hylian flying.  Link landed hard and skidded through the mud, but instead of giving into the pain when his injured shoulder hit ground, he used the momentum of the blow to roll onto his stomach and push himself back up.

Mud dripped from Link’s sword when he faced Ganondorf once more.  His sapphire eyes sparkled like beacons in contrast with the layers of dried blood, sweat, and dirt splattered across his features.  His once blond hair stuck to his ears and forehead in clumps of black.  Link parted his lips to catch his breath, steadying his shaking extremities.  His heart palpitated against his ribs; he could feel its pounding ache as it rushed blood through his veins.  He stared up at those yellow eyes once again, eyes that teased him, eyes that terrorized him, the doorway into darkness.

As Ganondorf watched the small man, clenching his puny fist around his stick of a sword, he cocked his head in amusement.  This little creature actually thought it was doing well.  Did this boy truly think himself the equal of a king?  No, not an equal.  The Hylian actually thought himself better than, a pure soul.  He was as slippery as those glimmering watery eyes of his, but he was not invincible.  This tiny man, this insect, would learn that he, Ganondorf, was the rightful heir to the goddesses’ power.  Link would take his lesson through the sharp point of a king’s blade skewering his heart.

Enough play.  It was time to break the unbreakable.