LOZ:Twilight Princess:Ch.7 FINAL

----Chapter 7: The Shade


Link had resolved to return to Ordon Village before setting out on his adventure.  Firstly, it would be necessary to acquire the lantern that had once been gifted to him, for he did not know into what corners of darkness his journey would propel him.  Secondly, he wanted to see the village with his own eyes.  He needed to see the destruction he had caused within Uli’s home.  And though, he would spare her the truth, he felt obligated to reassure her.

Along the path back into the village, the only audible noise came from the soles of his new boots, boots once worn by some other hero of some other time.  The feeling of feet pressing against the inside of the leather material conjured deep emotions within him.  Pride and fear.  He realized his fright came from the doubt he could fill these boots, afraid that, though he was proud to have been bestowed such an honor, he would not be able to live up to such a name.

He found himself watching his steps as he walked, pondering where his new boots had been in another lifetime.  What adventures had these shoes shaped?  What distant places had they seen?  The thought made Link stop in his tracks.  He broke his gaze from their polished leather, and he looked up toward the sky.  Dawn had broken upon the horizon.  His nightmare had truly ended.

It was then that he realized his time as a beast had only taken up one night of his life.  How it had seemed so much longer, a lifetime.  He breathed in deeply.  Relief washed over him anew.  A calm, slight smile spread over his lips.  Again he looked to his fingers, his human hand.  From all the wickedness that had broken into his life, it had all been worth it … to realize he was of some greater destiny, that he could change things for the better.  

All his life … he had felt the pull of adventure … to leave the woodland of Faron.

He fell away from the display of blue sky and dotted whiteness above and took up pace again toward his village.

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A strange quiet murmured through Ordon as he stepped into town, and he stopped.  He could feel terror still coursing throughout the veins of the ground beneath his feet.  The birds and animals had also fallen into an eerie stillness.  The numb frigidity of the surroundings fed into Link’s body and his concern grew by the second.  He pressed forward.  He needed to know that the rest of the villagers were still safe, that no more had been taken.

He traversed the narrow dirt path leading up to Rusl’s house, careful to watch the surrounding forest closely for any signs of lingering intruders.  He could no longer trust the forest.  He hardly trusted anything any longer.  So many things had come to surprise him in his last night spent, and he had come to rely on the distrust of appearances.  He did not even completely hold much dependence on his new partner, but their companionship was necessary.  He would be glad when the day came to shed her from his life.  For some reason, though he knew better of it, he wanted to blame her for everything.

Link came to the porch of his mentor’s residence.  It took him a few moments to build the courage to rap his knuckles against the wood, for the last time he had entered the dwelling, he had made such a wreck of things.  But he bit his lip.  Uli, Rusl … everyone … they did not know his secret identity.  They did not know he had been a monster.

He knocked.

The door cracked open in the next moment, and Link saw Uli’s face staring back at him.  Uli, the only mother Link had ever known.  A woman who had so graciously opened her home to a lost babe her young husband had so long ago brought into her life.  

At first, she stopped all movement, disbelieving what her eyes offered her: the young man she thought had been stolen away with the others.  Link wanted to comfort her, but nothing came.  He simply peered into her eyes, eyes welling with tears of joy.

“You’re … you’re all right....” she murmured, reaching out shaking fingers to touch his breast.  She felt the warmth of his skin and his beating heart through his new clothes.  A small, motherly smile rose and faded as she drew back her hand.  “Oh, I’m sorry, Link.  Come in.”  She opened the door fully and allowed Link the space to enter her home.  She shut the door behind him.

Link looked back at her, trying to find the words he wanted to say.  It was she who spoke first, however.  “We all thought … that you had been taken as well.  It’s so good to see you well.  You are all right?”

He nodded.  “Yes,” his voice crackled.  

“What happened to you?”

Link recounted what had taken place in the spring, the onslaught of the monsters, his attempts to stop them, and the painful blow to the back of his head.  “By the time I awoke,” Link was saying, “they’d disappeared.  I couldn’t find them anywhere.”  He realized it was the first time he had spoken since Ilia had been taken.  His voice felt dry, as if his throat struggled to speak from being so accustomed to growling and barking.  He hoped the feeling would pass in time.

Little Midna, basking in her hovel of his shadow, had listened intently to his story, not because she was at all interested in his words, but because this was the first time she had heard him speak.  Since his humanity had been restored, he had refused to talk to her, and she anticipated that his reluctance might continue for some time.  She was surprised how … grown up he sounded, the deep resonance found in accomplished individuals but layered in the softness of carefree youth.  What she found equally odd was his pattern of speech.  Unlike the village people who were used to elongating vowels and drawing out certain sounds like there was no hurry to say what was on their minds, Link’s words were quick and punctuated.  She did notice, however, that he had taken on a few of the Ordonians’ little habits, such as slurring certain words together when he got agitated or excited and the way his strong th’s seemed to make him entirely skip over any vowel directly following.

Uli had stood quiet, taking in his new appearance as he had explained what happened to her son.

Link gave her a moment before asking.  “Where is Rusl?”  He cringed, almost afraid of the answer.  The last time he had seen the blacksmith had been the night previous when he had first emerged from the wood.  Injuries had covered the length of him.

The light of the room drained from her eyes in that moment, one that jolted a sliver of concern in Link.  Uli led him into the room from which he had stolen two items, the floor still slightly messy from his attack on the room.

As soon as Link crossed the threshold, he stopped, seeing the broken figure of his mentor splayed across the length of the bed in the corner.  Bandages and blood lined his body.  Link stepped up to the bedside of the semiconscious Rusl, who looked up to the youth, only slightly aware that he was there.  “Link,” he mumbled.  “The children … the children.  I looked....”

“Pergie and Sera were here earlier helping me tend to his wounds,” said Uli, “but he still needs much rest if he is to recover.”  Link was glad to hear it.  With her sons in constant mischief, Pergie was accustomed to treating wounds, and there was no better cook or potion maker in Ordon other than Sera.  The three mothers who had lost their children….  Link was sure that just being with Pergie and Sera had been a comfort to his surrogate mother.  It was not that Uli was weak, but she was sensitive and faced her fears in silent contemplation.  Link had always admired the bravery of Uli.  Throughout his youth he had grown perceptive of the look she would get in her eyes if a worry weighed on her mind.  He would never come out and ask her trouble; rather, he found ways of making her remember how to smile.

Link looked back at her wet face.  All the pain these monsters had caused her … it lit a fire within him that bounced against his insides and set his entire network of nerves ablaze. “I am going to search for them,” he finally said.  “I promise you, I will find them.”

A smile overtook her face, the smile he hoped would come--the small gleam that always came when he had successfully cheered her mood--and its shine could have surpassed the dull gleam of any darkness.

Having nothing more to say, Link took a last look toward Rusl and turned for the door.  However, it was then, as Uli watched him leave, that she noticed the items slung over his backside.  “Oh, you found that wretched beast?  The one who stole our precious gifts for Hyrule.”

Link gritted his teeth.  How could he have been so ignorant to walk into her home adorned with the very items he had stolen?  But he resolved to further her deduction, and when he turned, he nodded.  “Yes, I....”

“They will serve you well.  Keep them,” she said.

Link had not expected this reaction from her, but he did not argue against her wish.  If he played along there would be less pain for the both of them.

“I will return,” he promised, and after a silent moment where their locked gazes exchanged silent, unvoiced words … he left.

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When Link burst into his house, he wanted to simply sit down and think, but he knew he did not have the time.  Deep within him, he did not want to leave time for his thoughts to wander, for it would only bring more pain.  Ilia and the children and his horse were still missing, and it seemed he was the only one of the villagers--of all in Hyrule--that could withstand the harshness of Faron.  The others either were too afraid to venture into its depths or those that did returned empty-handed with only wounds to commemorate their attempt.

He rushed down a breakfast of bread, water, and cheese.  He then fingered through his many shelves to locate his lantern.  Upon finding it he laced it quickly to his new belt.  He also latched a small waterskin and a few pouches to the accessory after filling them with scraps of food for the journey.

Link took a last look around his small home, knowing that it would likely be some time before he laid eyes on it again.  Without any final thoughts, he turned and stepped outside, shutting the door on everything familiar.

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Once again in the thick of the Wood, Link halted at the edge of the rickety bridge just before the bend in the trail beyond.  He had made an effort to quiet his steps before he could see that path … the one he had taken twice on the painful journey into the twilight beyond.  He had to keep telling himself that the darkness had subsided, that the twilight had been banished … that there would only be the wood past the turn.  With a deep breath, he removed himself from the bridge and plunged into the curving path.

There he found no trace of the darkness that had lingered for what had seemed forever in a night.  He had to sift deep into his memories to find any recollection of seeing the forest so appealing.

“What in all the Light Realm are you waiting for exactly?” came the demeaning voice now so very familiar to him.  “Did you really think the twilight would still be here?  You humans are so skittish.”

He hated it when she chided him so harshly … scoffed at him for his human instincts and emotions.  He presumed it would have been natural for anyone to have been apprehensive in returning to a place that had proved so traumatic.  He washed off her remark and continued forward.  He needed to keep reminding himself that this was her natural manner.  It was her method of making him feel ignorant and out of place with her understanding of the realms and perhaps to cling to some notion that she was in charge of their partnership.

Onward he pressed, determined to put an end to the wickedness that the spirits and Princess Zelda had told him was spreading over Hyrule … even if one day he had to face such forces alone.

He quickly retraced his steps to the cave through which he had pursued Talo those few days ago.  It was on the other side of the swampland that Link was sure he would find the temple of which Faron had spoken … in the trunk to which Talo had followed the monkey.

Link remembered the path through the narrow passage without fault, the light of his lantern leading him forward.  He was sure to dodge the silk traps of the spiders and the easily angered keese population this time.  Once on the other side, however, the swamp attacked his eyes.  A purple mist ate at his membranes, poking forward traces of wetness due to the dull humidity of its hazy presence.

He tried stifling a few coughs by putting a forearm overtop his mouth, but to no avail.  He squinted, extending the lantern before him. The light from its flame helped only slightly, like shining a bright light into a thick hanging fog.  He tried to look for the outcropped trail to the side of the swamp, but upon finding it, he noticed that it, too, had not escaped the bog’s new soiled breath.  He would have to continue on into the thick of its existence.

From behind him then, a grey shape raced and leapt up to snatch his lantern straight from his grasp.  Swiftly, it escaped Link’s range only to stop abruptly at the edge of the slope, turning back to look at him with wide, invading eyes.

Midna leapt out of his shadow, arms folded across her tiny chest.  Her one eye narrowed.  “You idiot.  You let that monkey steal off with your lantern,” her menacing tone burst.  “I hope you’re happy with yourself!”

Before Link could make any move, she had again trapped herself within his dark counterpart upon the ground.  With a mental shrug, Link propelled himself forward.  Perhaps this monkey had some way of progressing through the swamp with its heightened animal instincts.

He approached the creature carefully, and as he did so it twirled about and waved the lantern out at the haze as if batting it away.  What then occurred amazed Link.  The mist actually slunk back momentarily by the flare within the tiny cage.  Understanding, Link came alongside the critter, and they negotiated the swamp together as the little animal beat back the mist every so often.  Link was sure that had the monkey not persisted in this action, they both would have been suffocated by the strange fog whenever it threatened to fold back in on itself.

At last, they had reached the far side of the dangerous swamp. The monkey immediately returned the lantern to Link by dropping it unceremoniously to his feet, the flame no more.  Should have taken Coro up on his offer before I left....

When Link next looked up, he barely caught a glimpse of the monkey fading into the forest ahead.  Quickly, he reattached the lantern to his belt as he followed in the creature’s wake.  Within seconds, Link again faced the clearing where he had rescued Talo above the chasm that stretched out into the farthest reaches of Faron.

He saw the tiny monkey far into the distance, creeping along the branch it had used to escape from Talo.  Link pursued.  However, sitting before the bough that connected the clearing to the trunk was a golden wolf.  A white undercoat lined its furry chin, belly, and tail.  Its left eye had been sewn shut by a scar, but its right--bright and blood red--bore into Link.  It hunched over, growling at Link, who unsheathed his saber and lifted the shield onto his right forearm.

Link, ready to slay the fiend, was not prepared for what would truly happen.  Within the next moment, the golden beast leapt out at him.  Link blinked when he braced for the conclusion of its assault, ducking behind his defense.  Yet, when he again opened his eyes, a vast ground of white grass and lightly tinted sky blinded him.  Set in the distance, a castle rose from out of nowhere, but it was the only structure for miles in any direction.

Link could not make any sense of it, and Midna’s voice--and shadow--remained still.

He heard panting behind him, and just as he turned to face the beast again, the golden creature transformed before his very eyes.  Its body rose into a much larger form, dark armor plastering its skeletal form.  Ancient symbols ornamented its waist cloth.  A shield in its right hand, and a sword in the other, it gave Link a familiar feeling, as if he was supposed to know who this strange embodiment resembled.  It armor’s dull shine and rusted edges gave the impression that this spiritual form had long been dead.  Its tarnished helm was fixed tightly upon its open skull.  Only one eye seemed to have any life, its fierce redness attacking Link.

On instinct, Link raised his sword to it.

In turn … so did the ancient warrior.

Link pushed through his fear of the dark soldier and stepped carefully toward it.  In the next second, he leapt at it and slashed out.  Immediately, however, the figure assaulted Link’s defense, throwing the youth to his back.

Link looked up into its blood eyes, intoxicated by fright.  He was sure that its blade would pierce his heart in that moment.

But instead … the warrior spoke, taking a step back.  “A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage.”  By this, oddly, Link understood.  The warrior was by no means his enemy.

Link picked himself up to again stand before the figure, however, this time, he stood unafraid, open-minded.

“You may be destined to become the hero of legend,” the shade spoke, Link listening intently, “but your current power would disgrace the proud green of the hero’s tunic you wear.”  Its voice, although rough through the passage of time, was strangely harmless in its harsh caliber.  “You must use your courage to seek power and find it.  Only then will you become the hero for whom this world despairs.  If you do find true courage and you wish to save Hyrule from the horrors it now faces,” it spoke, “then you will be worthy to receive the secrets I hold.”

The shade shifted his position, slithering back from its close distance to Link.  It followed its previous speech directly into a lesson of the blade.  “Enemies that are strong will quickly recover and attack again even when stunned by a powerful strike.  The ending blow is a technique you can use on stunned enemies to end their breath before they spring back into action.  When there is opportunity to end their life … do not hesitate.”

The soldier brought its shield against its body.  “You will attempt this technique upon me.”

Link did not hesitate, knowing full well that any reluctance would provoke more displeasure from his new instructor.  At once, he flew in hard at the ancient warrior, and after a series of slashes and thrusts--and after several attempts which ended with Link’s back to the ground--the soldier fell backward in a heap.  Before his mentor could regain footing, Link leapt high and came down hard upon the warrior.

Then ending blow could not kill the shade, however.  Link removed his blade from its chest and stood alongside the shade as it rebalanced itself.  “A pinpoint strike!” the shade bellowed approvingly.  “To you this technique has been passed.”

Very much pleased with himself, Link stylishly sheathed his saber and nocked his shield against his back once more.

“There are more skills to be learned.  They are only for the one who carries the blood of the hero, the one whose spirit is that of the sublime beast.”  The shade approached Link then, weapons sheathed as well.  “Grow powerful,” the masculine voice urged.  “Test your courage.  And when you find that you need another skill to overcome the threats that face you … search for the ancient statues.  Sing their written melodies.  Doing so will awaken my spirit once more.”

Link nodded, truly thankful.  His journey was fast becoming one of splendor and awe … a surprise waiting around every corner … and it frightened and amazed him how quickly he accepted the reality of learning the ways of the sword from a lingering, skeletal spirit as if it were the most natural task he had ever undertaken.

The shade seemed pleased.  If its hard jaws allowed, Link was sure that it would be smiling down upon him.

“A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage,” it reiterated kindly yet forcibly.  “Remember those words....  Farewell.”

In another blink of white light, all that surrounded Link, including the shade, vanished.