LOZ:Twilight Princess:Ch.21 FINAL

----Chapter 21: Zoran Gifts


When Link stepped out into the cascade of heavy rain, he pressed his weight against the wooden railing of the porch steps.  The water ran in rivulets down his forehead and stained his cheeks, and he could lose himself at last in the privacy and silence of the cold night.  He could not remember a time where his emotions had danced so violently in his head, and it made him dizzy.  He lost himself in the darkness parading in his chest, smothered by it.  He had steeled himself against the brunt of his emotions for several days, and only now in solitude did his chin quiver.  With Ilia’s injury, the last of his childhood had been stripped away like it had never happened.  He longed for those days, yearned to return to a time where the forest carried laughter through their leaves.

Yet, Link had forgotten that no matter how much he seemed to stand in solitude, it had not existed to him for some time.  His shadow now stung at his mind like a mirror through which he could see the true darkness of the world.

Midna sprang from that darkness as if on cue while Link wiped the rain from his eyes.  Her blazing red and yellow eye visible through the splatters, she looked confused for a moment on how to approach him.  She felt no shame in how she had acted toward him the last time she had made an appearance, but something tugged at her insides.  She did not enjoy the feeling and refused to let it fester.  She plastered a snarl over her lips.  “It’s nice that you saved your friends, but what are you doing?  We need to get going.”

“No, I’m resting here the night,” he objected.  

“Don’t think I don’t know the real reason you want to stay.”

Link passed a quick glance at her, and with a furrowed brow, he turned away, angry how she could so easily get inside his head.  But no matter how intuitive she may have been, he did not expect her to understand.  He could not envision the day when she might bemoan the injury or loss of a friend, if she even had a friend in the world.  Link, as her ally, was likely the closest thing she had in that regard, and he knew she would never shed a tear for him.

Midna popped around him, her gaze mocking. “I hope you’re not blaming me for what happened to her.”

“Not as much as I’d like to,” said Link, though his reproach contradicted his deepest feelings, and he wanted to think that Midna did not know that.  He hoped she was not so vindictive to purposefully wring his emotions out in the pouring rain just to drive the knife a little deeper, for truthfully, Link had been blaming himself.  Every time he thought the situation through it always came back to that initial moment when the ogre had come and stolen Ilia away.  He had been unable to save her, unable to save any of them, and he charged himself responsible.

Yet, now that he thought on it….  Was Midna accountable for this in some way?  Had she contributed to the state of Ilia?  When he thoroughly searched his mind, he came upon opposing answers.  After their audience with Princess Zelda, she had reminded Link of the tragedy and his desire to search for them by combining her ambition into the mix, therefore administering him to the idea of travel to find his missing friends, yet it had also been she that had tumbled his mind upside-down.  Early in his journey, he had concluded that he would find Ilia if he came across the opportunity, but the need to locate the Fused Shadows had then been an absolute priority … until he had discovered their true darkness.

He remembered Lanayru’s imparted vision, how he had killed--murdered--Ilia, and it had all been for the power shown before him.  The three sacred triangles had been the source of such a powerful lust, and--just as the Interlopers--Link had wanted the power for himself.  He recalled how his entire body had pulsed with desire, blinded by the same sinister greed.  Through the power of the old, dark magic of the Fused Shadows, he had achieved obtaining that which he had most wanted: those beautiful golden triangles that had swelled with such power he could have lived off their energy for ten thousand lifetimes.

Surfacing from his thoughts, Link realized that he stroked the back of his bare hand.  Having removed his bracers and gloves when washing up earlier, he looked to his left hand and the darkened mark that symbolized those very triangles for which he had murdered.  How had this sacred mark, which had existed since the dawn of their known civilization, come to brand him?  Was the power so strong that it was to be feared as much as worshipped?

Was that why his parents had left him?  Or had they left him at all?  Had they known the truth of this mark, that it was a powerful yet denied sacred object, and hidden him away?  What was the truth to all of this?  Who were his parents?  Why had he been separated from them?  Why was he marked at all?

He broke free of his thoughts, but he discovered Midna had obviously been drinking in his actions all the while, trying to guess his thoughts.  Though she said nothing, her eye spoke her mind.  She, too, wondered why the mark adorned his skin, and Link realized that this was likely the first time she had seen the back of his bare left hand.  And … was that a twinkle of greed in her eye?  Or was it jealousy … or perhaps even anger?

Puzzled yet dismissing the chance for any further conversation to spring forth, he turned back in for the house.  As he reached for the door, Link’s final thoughts centered once again on Ilia, and how--no matter how much he wished he could indeed blame Midna--he had been the guilty one.  He had failed her.

His hand on the knob, a sudden chill consumed him, a chill unlike the icy drizzle of rain.  It was rather like the mystic cool of a summer wind that seemed to melt away the sound of the closing thunder.  It numbed his breaths and dizzied his mind, soothing his weary body.  He closed his eyes and, like a mother’s hand, the gentle cool guided him back to the railing.  He had never quite felt this way before, and he could not understand why he felt drained yet regenerated in the same moment.

Upon opening his eyes, there hovered a nearly transparent woman.  She dangled before him like an ornament in the sky.  The brightness of the lightning and the pouring rain reflected against and wrinkled through her as if she was but a dying ripple on the surface of a lake.  Link recognized her at once as Rutela, the late Zora queen, though her eyes were darker than before, and he no longer saw the trace of any sparkle within her.  “This way,” her voice whispered, and though she had spoken with such softness, Link could hear the words as if they lived inside him.

He did not look to Midna but followed the queen immediately as she floated toward a section of the town he could not remember ever entering before.  Midna, too, pursued the elegant Rutela in Link’s wake.  They passed by the sanctuary and through a gate pressed between the sides of the mountain behind, and once the path opened up, they stood in a dying plain surrounded by the walls of the mountains and beleaguered by tombstones.  The cold, wet drizzle poured across the stones of the dead, and a quiver shot up Link’s spine.  It was here that he realized he had never truly suffered the loss of someone dear.  It was hard to imagine the many ceremonies that had been conducted upon these very grounds, and it left a frigid hole within Link.

He bit back the strange feeling and followed Rutela up handmade stairs of chiseled grey stone past the last row of tombstones.  Upon the terrace Link watched as the queen faded into the rock wall, past a stone that now shimmered as if alive with the tide of the deep blue of the ocean.  As if by magic, the stone vanished, exposing a narrow passage.  Acknowledging that the Zora queen wished him to follow, he sucked in his chest and stomach, trying to make himself as small as possible before edging through the shaft.  Midna descended into his shadow.

Once at the end of the tunnel, Link peeled himself free and stumbled into a dark cavern.  It was quite large and lit by pockets of dim moonlight that shined in through the tunnel and cracks along the ceiling.  The light reflected against the surface of the pond water within, splashing a gentle green against the walls.  Queen Rutela, who hovered a small distance away over a rather large gravestone, also gave off a dull gleam, but what remained of her radiance did not bathe the walls … nor did the water mirror her image.  She hung there like a dying candle, her light slowly melting away as the night grew colder.

Link leapt into the deep, cool water of the cavern and swam over to the tiny patch of land that served as a tomb.  Rutela looked down upon Link, a smile bringing little radiance to her dead eyes.  Link pulled himself out of the water and wiped the droplets from his face.

“I am deeply grateful to you for aiding my son in his time of need,” the queen spoke softly.  Link nodded to her as he fumbled to remove his cap in respect.  “You were right to bring him here.  Kakariko Village is a sacred place for the Zora people.  It is the last and farthest reach of our waters, and so it is here we take our eternal rest.”

As she said this, Link noticed that many other shimmers dotted the cavern floor underwater and on other island patches.  These, no doubt, were the tombs of countless Zoras, their markers glossed by the splash of water over many decades.

“There is a long history between my people and this place.  In the years of our ancestors” --here Link could feel Midna squirm with impatience at realizing the queen was about to pass on the history-- “a great demon brought war to the land of Hyrule.  In the demon’s lust to conquer the king, war spread and my ancestors were attacked.  The remnants of the Sheikah tribe saved my people … at great cost.”  It was almost as if she could see and feel the pain of her ancestors now that she had joined them in the afterlife.  “Since that day the Zoras and Sheikah have held a sacred bond.  But the Sheikah have been lost to time, as has their homeland, Kakariko of a time long gone.  This village is all that remains of that noble race.”

“My husband in life, King Zora,” she said, looking to the grave beside Link, “also rests his spirit here.  It is no coincidence my son found his salvation in this village.”  Her gaze befell the young Hylian once more, and she nodded kindly.  “Now, that which I have promised you….”

Midna fidgeted beneath him, glad the queen’s story was over and their reward nigh.

Her graceful hands lifted before her, and her fins billowed outward and twirled about her body.  Great plumes of pure blue light flowed in cascades from her hands, and a bundle formed within her grasp.  She floated down to Link so elegantly that he refused to blink.  Her tendrils of hair, her voluminous robes, and her swaying fins whirled in a kind of ceremonial dance.  She handed the lump to Link, and he accepted without a word.

“During his lifetime my husband created garments specifically for the chosen hero, garments that house the abilities of the Zora.”  Then she nodded again, her head tilting slightly.  “Now, at last, I can join the king in slumber.  And yet….”  Her sorrowful gaze burned into his eyes.  “My son still knows nothing of my death.  If you are to see him again, please, pass on this message.  Tell him….”  She decided on the correct phrasing.  “Tell him he must not grieve his mother’s passing.  Tell him she wanted him to be brave and live on as the king of our people.  And … tell him his mother loves him … without end.  Tell him this.”

Her last words burdened unto Link, she made her final departure and faded from existence.  Link stared for some time at the spot where she had once been.  A smile gently pulled at his lips after a time.  She had gone peacefully, without regret.  It was that tranquility that Link hoped would envelope him on such occasion … when his end came.

“Well,” thundered Midna’s voice as the lightning outside echoed onto the outside walls, magnifying the sound within the cavern.  “It’s a good thing we got this nifty armor then.  So, remember the important thing here.”

Link directed his gaze onto Midna, who had risen from his shadow once again.

“The last Fused Shadow….”

The mere mention sent a shiver through Link’s entire body, and the images that he had seen of the fate of the Interlopers once more descended within his mind.  He tried not to listen to Midna as he followed the route back into the graveyard and across the village thoroughfare.  He had already stated that he would take a night of rest; if Midna wanted to waste her breath, then so be it.

But when his arm reached the knob of the house, Midna’s voice rang higher and more determined, competing with the wilderness that now defined the storm raging above and around them.  “Remember what Faron, the Light Spirit, said.  You think I want the Shadows for myself, but you forget the spirit’s words.  Or are afraid of them?”  She slinked up Link’s spine and came to rest on his shoulder, her words a dark whisper.  “You need the Fused Shadows to defeat the dark overlord, Zant, to save your world.”  Her voice grew menacing.  “So, even if you go back now with all the people you saved….  The whole tragedy would just repeat itself.  You know what you need to do.  We need to go to the temple in the bed of Lake Hylia.”

Shivers ran through him as her words pelted him like bitter winter ash.  Link judged her then.  He had once thought she had changed since their argument in the Goron patriarch’s prison, but perhaps he had been mistaken.  The tension between them had continued to build, for she still thought only of her desires.  She continued to look into his soul and grab at the darkest parts of him, using it to manipulate him.  But he could see through this act now, and though he admitted he was afraid of what the Shadows might bring, he would not let that stop him.  Without fear there could be no courage.  

Could she not plainly see he was exhausted?  Could she not understand that, if he did not take half a night’s rest, just the zooming thoughts and ideas that clogged his mind would alone deprive him of any strength he had left?  His decision for staying had not been solely because of Ilia’s health.

He not found restful sleep since he had descended the mountain of the Gorons, and even after that, his wounds had not fully been able to heal.  He had started off again, still weary, to wage new battles and bear new atrocities.  With his sleep diseased by nightmares and his battles beating fresh cuts and bruises across his tanned flesh, he needed a simple night.

Rest was due.

When Link turned the knob, Midna’s voice boomed.  “We need to go now.”

Defiantly, and with a flicker of annoyance in his eye, Link pushed in on the door.  Midna growled, and before her reluctant partner crashed the door in her face, she ducked into his shadow, reserving herself to a silent rage.

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

When Link awoke from yet another troubled sleep, the first rays of dawn peeked through his window.  He rose from his worn bed and approached the small window that peeked into the world outside.  Batting back the thin curtain, he peered into the sky.  The storm that had fogged the previous night had already cleared, leaving trails of sporadic clouds.  Link ignored their weak attempts to appear ominous.

He rubbed a hand over his face, stealing away the last of his sleep.  The cool air hummed against his bare chest, and so, he parted from the window to look to his belongings.  Sitting in a chair beside the bed laid his green garb, yet Link grabbed the pile of new blue and black armor underneath the familiar tunic.

He could not postpone the journey any longer.  He laid out each piece on his bed sheet.  He traded his white leggings for the black and then pulled on the tight, sleeveless tunic, the skirt of which seemed much in design to blue tulip petals, but he had to admit he could move very easily wearing it.  He then wrapped each part of the leg armor onto his body, his feet appearing as flippers after he had completed the task.  Link next pulled the chain mail--which looked more like grey scales--about his chest and waist.  Overtop this, he shouldered into the separate sleeves of the blue tunic and clasped them tight against his chest.  He dug through his own pile of garments and weaponry until he located his gloves, bracer, belt, sword, and shield.

Link flexed his fingers as he equipped each glove in turn, trying his best to ignore the scar that adorned the left as he then strapped on his bracer.  He continued in wrapping the straps of his scabbard about his chest and pulling his belt tight around his armored waist.  After slipping his shield overtop his sword and slinging his quiver and bow over his shoulders, he returned a much lighter bomb bag to his back pouch and tucked his boomerang tightly into his belt.  His lantern remained on the floor of his temporary quarters; it was foolish to take it into the depths of Lake Hylia.

He then turned to the very last piece of armor.  Link gently picked up the ancient headpiece.  It was comprised of a head fin much to the likeness of a Zora, dotted with white on the seam which divided the black underbelly from the bluish top.  A golden helmet, which bore the imagery of a Zoran helmet, curtained the front of the faux fin.  

As Link donned the helm and tucked the sleek, black coif around his neck, a wave of nostalgia overcame him.  He wondered if this very armor had been worn by a hero of whom Queen Rutela had spoken or if it had been made lest the need for a hero arose.  Had the late Zora king sculpted this personally for a previous hero, or was Link the first to bear such garments in the name of Hyrule?  In that moment Link began to wonder what troubles had barraged the ancient hero.  Had he faced personal tragedies?  Had he had doubts?   How many dear friends or loved ones had he lost in the fight for Hyrule?  How long had the past hero traveled the arduous journey before the land had once again been filled with peace?

Link shook away any doubt.  The last hero had succeeded, for Link had grown up in a land free of malice until now.  His path was an important one, one that--at its conclusion--would see the reign of a new dawn, a dawn that would pass with the death of evil.  The death of angry shadows.

As he headed for the door, he could feel a shiver of excitement run up his spine from Midna’s hiding place.  She had been impatiently waiting for the moment they might embark to seek the last Fused Shadow.  The power could help him defeat the king of twilight, she had said, but he could not dismiss the unsettling feeling that the Shadows deserved to remain locked away.

But he shut the door upon the notion.  He had decided to aid Midna long ago, and through all his misgivings he would remember that.  Despite everything that she had said or done in the name of her selfish wish to procure the Shadows, he could still not dismiss the way he had come to see Midna within the mines of the Gorons, and perhaps it was due to that moment that he continued--the hope that she truly was a good being, that she cared more than she seemed comfortable showing, and that she would use the power of the Fused Shadows wisely.

He hoped she had the strength to overcome the mighty allure and not fall victim to its will.

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

Link dismounted Epona smoothly, stepping out onto the edge of a grassy cliff that fell deep into the lake far below.  The crystal waters shimmered with each glint of the sun, but Link did not have the luxury to watch the display of twinkling lights.

As he stood above Lake Hylia, Link lifted the black veil of the coif over his mouth and nose, and it rested taut about his face like an extra layer skin.  The air about him seemed to become unsatisfactory.  He breathed in the heavy air and had trouble filling his lungs.  Somehow understanding this oddity, he chose to dive at that moment.  Wind flapped against his body, and he soon shot through the surface of the water.  He had held his breath, but now it was time to test his theory of the Zoran armor.

He took a small breath at first, cautious, but found that air indeed filled his mouth and nostrils.  He was a little unsettled at the notion of being able to breathe underwater, but the feeling was empowering.  Never before had he believed he would be able to swim underwater at his leisure, set to explore whatever formations attracted his eye.

However, his purpose here was an important one, and he had no time to dawdle in fascination of his new ability.  He set off for the center of the lake, his strokes paced evenly.  Link neared a drop in the lake floor and peeked over the edge.  The sight amazed him.  In a deep hollow, the Zoran people had etched a grand temple into the stones of the giant lakebed.  Columns of many lengths draped either side of the mouth of the shrine, circular patterns etched into their stonework.  If the carvings held any meaning it was lost on Link’s ignorance of their culture.  Further pillars had been transformed in the same manner, stretching out from the temple in an oval formation.  Assuming that this space had been crafted for some ceremonial nature, Link swam closer.

Once he noticed a gathering of Zora warriors, garbed fully in their majestic armor, Link hid behind a collection of rocks on a higher tier of the lake’s many deep layers.  Without knowing if he would be welcome in their party, Link took to the deduction that staying out of sight would be wiser for the moment.  He watched on as they discussed some issue.  They were arguing about something, but after a few minutes, they swam through the opening of the temple.

After taking a moment to digest the obvious distress that some of the warriors had expressed in their movements, Link pushed aside the fear of not knowing what he would face inside.  He flapped his feet into motion and whirled his body out from behind the rocks.

He descended into the entrance of the temple of the lakebed with any qualms as to what may lay ahead erased.  It was a road he would have to face, and at the end of his journey into the Zora temple, he would either succeed in acquiring the last Fused Shadow or….

He hauled the thought from his mind.

And yet, if he were to accomplish his goal, what would the gathering of all the fragments of such a dark power bring?

Link kept the distracting thought at the back of his mind and plunged deeper into the shrine.

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

Inside the entrance, Link followed a tunnel that wound down- and upward until he surfaced within a circular chamber.  Above, tentacles of the cavern ceiling threatened to fall upon him.  He climbed out of the entrance pool.  His gaze followed the smooth plane of the wall until he discovered the threshold that would lead him into the depths of the shrine.

He unmasked his lips, taking in a natural breath of air, and he stepped through the threshold and into a chamber that rose before him.  He took in the spectacle of the cave as he stood upon a broken stone bridge.  The walls were much akin to that of Zora’s Domain, a crystalline blue gleaming under waterfalls of various heights and widths as they splashed into pools below, which trickled into crevices, disappearing to other deeper chambers.  Stalactites taunted him from above and threatened his steps.  Link took another step forward to decide how to cross to the other side.

Yet, as soon as he took that step, the stone beneath him creaked and slid.  Its stability lost under his weight, what had remained of the bridge suddenly collapsed.  Link tripped over one of the breakpoints and was sent tumbling across the rest of the bridge.  He halted abruptly at the bottom of the slope of broken debris, crashing into the base of more layered, rock platforms.  Link gasped at the hit, his back having taken the brunt of the fall.  He soaked in the pain and released it in a breath.  He pushed up from the uneven ground and leaned against the cool stones.

With a glance upward, he noticed that--like reaching Zora’s Domain--all he need do was climb.  The layers of rock were piled atop one another as if a secondary path--a large staircase--to the door that loomed above.  Link mounted each stone as it came, quickly making his way toward the cavity.

Once Link reached the last tier, he discovered that the portal had already been partially opened, no doubt by the Zoras he had followed.  Perhaps if he could pursue their trail, he would discover the possible whereabouts of the last Fused Shadow.

Link passed through the opening and could not stop his mouth from falling agape.

So many architectures he had seen in the past days and every race seemed to have their very distinct preferences as to design.  He marveled at the elegant ingenuity of the water-dwelling people.  He walked out onto a wide bridge, its railings crafted high and with swirling patterns.  The loud beating of water assailed his ears, and a thick mist attacked his body.  When he peered through the wide gaps in the stone railing, he could see a river surging under another pass beneath him.  From what he could tell, the river coiled about the center room located on the other side of the bridge, and there were several other passageways that led off from that central chamber.  And if it was Zora’s River that frothed below, then perhaps the underwater tunnel that had led him here traveled farther up the river than Link could have determined.  This shrine could have been within any part of the upriver tributaries, constructed deep within the mountains and flooded so that no other but a Zora could enter.

Yet, he would have time to admire such resourcefulness and skill later … he hoped.  For now, he needed to locate the last Fused Shadow, and if this piece proved to be a part of some monster as the other two had, he needed to find it before the Zoran warriors became ensnared in its darkness.

He jerked his vision from the spectacle and headed toward the central chamber.  The ornate double-doors were enough to make clear that the ceremonial shrine was located inside, but as if to emphasize to spiritual visitors, Link found the room inside a masterpiece.

To decorate the ceiling of the circular room there hung a massive chandelier made of what looked like hollowed glass, and within each piece gleamed sapphires that brightened the chamber.  One large stone rested at the center of the chandelier and it seemed that the other precious gems had been organized in a precise pattern that would continually reflect its glimmer.  The light was dim--unnatural to his human eyes--however, the blue stones served their purpose.  Several holes in the rock dotted the ceiling in a circular pattern.  If there was a reason for these niches, Link did not know.

There were three levels to the chamber, he could clearly see, for each level merely wrapped around the wall, unenclosed save for railings of the same make as the bridge from which he had just come.  At the center of the room, directly beneath the chandelier, a domed structure peeked out of the surface of a pool of water.  That, Link surmised, was likely the entryway into the holy place of the Zoras.

Reaching the gateway would prove more difficult.  After descending the giant staircase that led to the second floor, Link stood at an open archway that spilled into the pool, and he realized that the surface of the water below, though deep, did not meet the opening of the dome.  The outside of the dome and the cylindrical mass that it sat upon had been polished smooth, so he would not be able to simply climb to the opening.

It seemed Link was too late.  The Zoras had most likely already descended into the shrine.  Their fate unknown to him, he worked through to a solution quickly.  Perhaps it had been the Zoras who had reduced the amount of water so that none following could enter, whether concerned for the irreverence a visitor would bring to the sacred place or for the wellbeing of such a visitor, Link was unsure.

Link dove into the water, masking his lips and nose.  The level of the water measured roughly the height of three bodies, but how had the Zoras drained only half the water?

He surfaced and peered about the wall of the pool, sloshing through the water quickly, his eyes racing.  In the next moment, his sight fell upon a fracture in the stone, and he paddled over to it.  He found the fissure a few meters long, and as far as he could tell, the split was deep, crawling along a path that fed into the reaches of either the lake or a tributary.

Link smiled.  All he need do was supply the crevice with enough water to allow the pool to fill while the water simultaneously flowed through the passage.  Though, it would take a large amount of water, Link was sure that--being constructed below a vast water source--the temple was sure to have weak areas where the Zoras had built weirs to control the amount of water that entered the temple … or from where they would be able to completely cut off the water, as Link assumed had happened.  And though he had seen nothing indicating a spillway which would lead him to such an area, it was his only idea.

All Link needed to accomplish was to locate such a device and open the flow so much as to allow him access to the central dome without flooding the entire complex--which would end in possible disastrous consequences.

His mind set, Link stroked back to where he had entered the pool and climbed the rocky wall until he could pull himself onto the second floor once more.  There being many rooms, Link decided to search the top level first.  It seemed more logical that a spillway would be located above.

He climbed the steps of the ornate case and searched the first floor for any indication of a waterway.  There were many gaps in the balustrade; however, there were no indentations that would serve for the course of water.  A little dismayed but not doubtful in his idea, Link took to exploring the door at the top of the staircase first.

Beyond the bridge outside, he entered through the next gateway to discover a network of passageways through which he cautiously traveled.  His paces quickset and his eyes roaming, Link thought over his situation.  If the Zoras had indeed been the ones to empty the pool, then at least one would have to stay behind to control the weir, closing the way to both itself and unwanted visitors.  It was that thought alone that made Link reassess the circumstance.  If he did find such a device, and a Zora guarded it, what would Link’s reception be?

Though he had saved their prince, only Link and the late queen were those who knew of the deed.  The Zoras still believed their prince missing and in danger.  If Link even uttered the prince’s name, the Zora would begin demanding all his knowledge on the matter … and likely in a most inhospitable manner.

And if Link were in the Zora’s position, he would not accept only a stranger’s word that the one he served was alive and recovering.  Not to mention the fact that Link did not suppose any Zora would knowingly admit a foreigner to traverse their sacred grounds.

Yet, whatever the danger, he would deal with the situation as it unfolded.  At the moment, he had to search … and pray he was right.

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

Link had passed through many a corridor and swum through many connecting channels by the time he surfaced from a water pit infested by dangerous bari creatures.  Their blue, bubbled heads convulsed like breathing lungs as they floated through water, crawling after their prey.  Their long tentacles--it was said--had the power to electrify their quarry into paralysis.  Link could see their pulsating red veins through their slimy, translucent bodies.  Fortunately for Link, he had always been a skilled swimmer, having grown up next to a small lake, and he had bypassed each bari without nearing their shocking tendrils.

Wrenching himself from the winding tunnel, Link immediately thanked his senses for choosing this path first.  Within the next room, a hollowed cave, he could see the fin of a Zora’s head.  With the fish-man facing away from the opening, Link could easily distract him.  He went to pick up one of the loosened stones, but he stopped mid-action.

Had the Zora been monitoring the area, he would have heard Link surface from the water.  Disregarding his initial ideas of encountering a possible guard, he cautiously stepped through the opening.  He turned to the Zoran warrior to find horror.  A jagged rock jutting out from the wall had pierced through his breastplates, the Zora’s face left in a pose of agony with voiceless mouth agape and void eyes staring into the nether space of the world.

Link’s mind had already begun racing with questions before he had noticed the Zora’s blood trail reaching back into an adjoined cavern.  He started tracing the path, but a low rumble greeted his ears, a menacing growl.  Upon reaction, Link turned and sought out the source.

Above him, he heard a sucking and gurgling sound, as if someone were crawling through water while trying to breathe with lungs coated in slime.  In the high outcroppings, a dark mass moved about.  Link drew his blade, prepared to stave off his own demise.

It was then that the mass fell from its perch, aiming to land upon the newcomer.  But Link leapt from beneath its shadow, crashing into the Zoran corpse.  The body fell from its pike, and when it and Link landed hard upon the ground, something shot out of its hand.  Curious, Link quickly found the source of the strange chain that had flown from the Zora’s fingers.  Detaching a rather odd device from the warrior’s gauntlet, Link found the small lever that retracted the coil.

Before exploring the object further, Link avoided another attack from the amphibious creature that he now described to himself as some sort of big-lipped toad, and in the dim light he could not tell if its blubbery body was green or blue.  Enormous in size, it bobbed and rocked about upon its wobbly white belly.  The creature must have lived unbeknownst until now in the many large fissures that lined the temple.  Though it was apparent none of these splits in the foundation had threatened flooding, foul creatures had infested the areas or perhaps had already dwelled there for some time before the Zoras had even constructed their shrine.

Yet though the toad’s movements were distorted by its size, it was obvious that it was quite used to squishing its way through narrow spaces quickly.  In no time to spare, the amphibian had blocked any escape for Link with its bloated mass.  In a slight panic, Link’s fingers twitched upon reflex.

He did not realize what had happened at first, but once a patch of dust and pebbles tumbled down on him, Link noticed he had triggered the chain of the device to shoot out again.  The spiked end had lodged itself into the ceiling.  Tugging on the chain, he found the connection solid, and without another moment’s hesitation, he flicked the lever within the object.  His body was hoisted into the air just as the toad pounced.

As Link hung at the ceiling, he heard Midna’s amused and slightly annoyed voice.  “How is it everything you accomplish is by some stroke of clumsy luck?”

Ignoring her comment he discovered that there were two other levers within the device.  The only way he would discover their functions was to test them, and so he pressed the middlemost.  Instantly the chain began spilling out, lowering him at a slow rate.  Pleased, Link understood the use of the last switch, and he only pressed it when he had angled himself at a position wherefrom he would land upon the toad’s backside.

He fell instantly and quickly, the claws of the head retracting and the chain coiling itself anew within its confinement.  Link’s saber pierced the sticky skin of the creature as he crashed onto its back.

The toad reared, trying to toss the hurt from its body, but it only succeeded in forcing the blade to slide downward through its backside.  By the time Link tumbled to the ground, the sword finally loose from the amphibian’s body, it had suffered a wound too severe.  Its back completely sliced open, it collapsed sideways, and its fluids spilled onto the rock, a rank smell lifting into the air.

After regaining his breath, Link knelt next to the fallen Zora, sheathing his sword.  He gently rolled the warrior onto his back. There was another chain device attached to his other gauntlet, and Link pulled it loose.  His intention was not to desecrate the soldier but ensure that the same fate did not befall him.  These accessories would provide him with additional means of protecting himself from harm.

After Link adjusted the clawed devices onto his own armored fingers, he rearranged the corpse into a more noble position.  He closed his eyes in respect for the dead.  He then rose and faced the blood trail.

Link followed the stains into the next room.  A spiraling slope reached up, up, up through the gigantic, cylindrical chamber to a barrier far above that fenced away the surrounding water outside the temple.  Yet there was sure to be a way to open the obstruction to allow for the water to be used in filling up the pool some distance now below him.  But how would the water pass out of the chamber and into the central room?

That was when he found what the Zoras had likely constructed as the conduit.  At one section of the wall, two identical channels--large enough for a Zora to swim through--had been built.

Link quickly ascended the coiling slope--hoping to reach the other Zoras before they suffered the same agony as their comrade.  At the top he found a large lever connected to the side of the weir, decorated as if it were a stone fin.  As soon as he pulled down on the mechanism, the barrier began to shift.  Water spilled into the room faster than Link had anticipated, but before he could lift up on the lever to reduce the flow, the water splashed out and swept under his feet.

Captured by the current, Link fell onto his backside and sped down the way he had come.  He tried grabbing the raised edge of the slope to no avail.  The water coursed over the sides as well, making the stones slick.  Link could only surrender to the gushing stream.  He folded his arms in tightly when he came to the dual conduits.  Time escaped Link and he was forced to hold his breath--unable to reach for his veil--as the water sent him coursing through one of the channels.

His body arched and swayed and turned as he rode the water through the passage.  Though he bumped many times into jagged and broken bits of rock, Link refused to react to the pain, for in doing so, he would have breathed in the now deadly liquid.

At long last the channel came to its destination, the cold water falling through an open hole some distance ahead.  Link only prayed that the conduit was as wide at the end as it had been at the beginning.  Otherwise….

Link did not have time to think of the other possibility.

At once, he reached the hole, and his back arched as his legs were the first to fall through.  When his torso passed into the space below, Link hurled out a hand to grab hold of the edge of the opening.  His hand fighting the slick of the rock and the pressure of the water against him, he had only a few seconds to look down to see that he had returned to the central chamber of the temple--coming out of one of the holes to which he had not been able to place purpose before.

Link then found himself falling, spiraling through the air.  Disoriented, he did not dare try to use his newly acquired devices to help him since he could not tell which direction was up.

He landed hard in the pool below, one of his feet smacking brutally against the edge of the stairwell on his way down.  Fazed by the blow, his yelp died out once he was submerged in the water.  Link’s breath clogged, and he fought both pain and the absence of air simultaneously.  Unable to adjust himself to his circumstance quickly enough, he became dizzy.

Yet just as his senses had begun to cloud, he felt a jerk at his shoulder, and in the next moment, he was sputtering.

He now clung to a wraparound edge on the inside of the dome structure, choking on air and spitting up what water he had swallowed.  Looking up, he found that Midna sat upon the platform, dangling her feet into the water.  A laugh escaped her.  “Do you realize…?  That’s the second time I’ve had to come to your rescue.  What a hero you are.”  He found her resulting sneer easy to ignore once the pain in his foot quaked through his leg once more.

Yet--bruised, sprained, or broken--it did not matter.  He had to continue on.  He could not turn back.

Link yanked himself up onto the platform with some difficulty.  Halfway through the motion, he grimaced, but he quickly erased the tell-tale sign so that Midna could not see his pain.  He lifted himself to his feet, leaning inside the archway of the dome.  While Link adjusted to the smart in his leg, he looked into a small puddle of water etched into the floor, one that deepened farther into the ground.

Shrugging off his pain as best he could, he approached the smear of liquid and bent over it.  There was no telling how far it reached into the land beneath the temple.  The only way to know for certain what lay within its waters was to explore, and so--Midna trailing behind in the wake of his shade--he lowered himself into the watery pit, raising the veil over his lips and nose.