Fan Fiction Legend of Zelda: Sin of Sheikari
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Sin of Sheikari Chapter 13

13: Spirit Temple

Past, present, future…

The Master Sword was a ship with which one could sail upstream and downstream through time’s river. The port of that ship was the Temple of Time.

Had she been chosen as the Hero of Time, perhaps Zelda could have sailed far beyond the horror and decay that had befallen her kingdom, beyond even her own grief and sorrow if she could only imagine such a feat. 

Yet, even though there was a Goddess of Time she could call upon, time itself made no true allies. The world must spin into each new dawn, whether promising or treacherous. Perhaps that was why fate, fashioning itself as a waypoint of certainty in the river of time, was so important. Hers was a world of balance. For every act of justice, there must be disaster. For every sorrow, a glimmer of hope. 

Zelda felt herself clasping that invisible spark as she darted behind a boulder, keeping herself as low as possible. She glanced skyward, noting there still weren’t any clouds, and she wondered if anyone ever saw them in the desert. 

She scoffed at the familiarity of the scene she now inhabited, one barren wasteland she raced across replaced by another. However, this time, she vowed not to repeat the same mistakes she’d made in Hyrule Field. She would only move again when there was a strong enough whirlwind to cover both her tracks and the sounds of her sprinting across the dunes.

That was when she remembered it wouldn’t matter anyway, for she had a much more reliable method of travel. She quickly measured the distance between her current position and the temple’s entrance before she nodded, certain she’d be able to cross without landing too far away.

She clasped her hands together, silently praying to Farore just as a gust of sand whirled up against her. Within seconds, she flickered out of sight, a globe of green light being the only indication she’d been standing there. However, by the time the sand drifted down onto the earth, it too would vanish.

Another globe of green light hovered in the air just above the temple’s entrance before Zelda materialized again. Wasting no time, she dashed across the threshold into the dimly-lit foyer. 

A stairway flanked by a pair of clay jars greeted her. She paused, listening for any signs of activity, before reaching out with her magic to determine where she must go next. 

Each time she’d done so previously, it had felt like being pulled by a gentle current to her next destination, like how a child might tug at her tunic and lead her to a playing field. She absently took a soundless step forward, still probing as deep as she could, when she froze at the sound of movement.

The pair of jars sprung to life, leaping into the air and spinning in place before flying towards her. Zelda effortlessly dodged their assault but realized too late the jars’ flight was likely the work of a simple charm meant to fling them at any intruder, and whoever cast it probably hadn’t intended for them to miss. She winced as they crashed into the wall behind her. If that didn’t alert someone, then she’d only managed to get this far out of pure luck.

So she raced to the top of the staircase, taking another moment to scan either side of the room now that she had a better vantage point. To her left, she spotted a tiny crawlspace big enough for a small child. She pondered if she could somehow fit but abandoned the idea, turning to face the opposite direction.

The path opened up into a large corridor, and she noticed a colossal, stone block in the ground in front of her, as if someone had pushed it into that specific spot. Whoever moved it had to be extremely powerful due to its size. It must have taken at least ten Gerudo, male or female, to move it into place.

She slinked down the corridor, staying mindful of any potential traps, and it wasn’t long before she found herself in what she could only describe as a sort of throne room. This must have been where Ganondorf had spent most of his time. 

She paused. Since she’d entered, there’d been no signs of monsters, guards, or anything remotely threatening aside from the flying jars. Was it possible that the Gerudo had abandoned this temple following Ganondorf’s siege?

She then noticed the door nestled quietly behind the throne’s shadow, and she knew instantly that was where she’d find the next Sage. She took in a deep breath as she approached it. Mison had been quite different from the other Sages she’d encountered, and there was still the Shadow to contend with as well. 

The door slid upwards at her touch, and she crossed the threshold into a massive, scarely-lit hall with a large, elevated stage in its center. Her skin prickled as if the room was filled with an electrical current she couldn’t see. Yes, he had to be here! 

She quickly climbed onto the center stage, and she was just about to summon her harp when a voice startled her.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

Zelda spun around, coming face to face with a Gerudo woman with long red hair and piercing golden eyes, though lacking the menacing glow of her chieftain, Ganondorf.

Unlike the other Gerudo sentries, she was unmasked and wore next-to-no armor, her shoulders and midsection fully exposed. She held a scimitar in each hand, and her attire was entirely pink save for the large, silver-plaited gauntlets that made her arms look much too big for her size. 

The long, curved blade she pointed in Zelda’s direction looked sharp enough to cut stone, and she tilted her head to the side, as if daring Zelda to so much as breathe too forcefully. “We’ve been watching you ever since you suddenly appeared outside. What is a member of the Sheikah clan doing way out here, and how did you make it this far?”

Zelda decided she would have to fight once again and reached for her kodachi, but the woman lowered her sword in response.

“I did not come here to fight you!” she shook her head. “I am Nabooru, one of the leaders of the Gerudo tribe. However, do not be mistaken. Unlike the others, I despise Ganondorf with all of my being. That is why I allowed you to make it this far.”

Zelda cautiously dropped her hand to her side. “I did not come here with the intention to harm any of the Gerudo.”

“I had hoped as much,” The corner of Nabooru’s mouth rose into a smirk. “You wouldn’t have liked what we had planned for you if you did. Besides, we know that the Sheikah guard the royal family, which means you’re here for a reason that Ganondorf won’t like. I must fully support this.”

Zelda smiled despite herself. “Yes, that is true.”

“Then, whatever you plan to do, you must do it quickly!” Nabooru turned to look over her shoulder. “I can buy you some time, but I won’t be able to distract them for long. You must hurry!”

Zelda nodded, though she wanted to know exactly who Nabooru meant to distract, but it would have to wait. Her harp now in her hand, she began strumming it, playing a melody she’d never heard but always known. 

She heard Nabooru gasp softly as the floor began to glow just as Zelda was now accustomed to before drifting away from them both. Bronze tendrils of light erupted from the ground, crashing and melding into each other until they melded together to form a human shape. 

The old man who emerged this time was bronze-skinned, his white robe on the verge of slipping off his thin frame completely. Like the others, his hair had been white longer than Zelda had been alive. However, his hair was cropped short, nearly bald, though his beard reached well past his waist. 

Yet his intense, amber eyes were so alert they disarmed Zelda in a way she couldn’t readily put to words. He leaned on a withered, wooden staff for support, not quite glaring at Zelda. Not yet.

“Then it’s true,” she heard Nabooru whisper. “A Sage slumbered here all along. Those witches and their lies…”

“I am awakened,” The Sage spoke in a voice that was much deeper than Zelda expected. “And I see others have awakened as well.”

This time, Zelda wouldn’t have to plead her case before she once more found herself in the Chamber of Sages, the familiar sound of endless waterfalls filling the black hall. She looked all around her, unsure why she’d expected Nabooru to be in the hall with her, yet she wasn’t convinced Nabooru would have been entirely unwelcomed here. 

The Sage rose from the bronze Spirit medallion, stiffly crouching over his staff as if he’d tumble forward the second he flexed any part of his body. Those amber eyes were now challengingly trained upon Zelda, but she’d had many times to practice the eventual dance they’d engage in. He only needed to lead the way. 

“I am Abnar,” he announced. “I am the Sage of Spirit, and you are the reincarnation of Hylia.”

He said the words matter-of-factly, as if he was telling Zelda grass sprouted from the earth.Yet, he regarded her as if he expected an answer, and she grew annoyed instantly. 

“I have been told, but I do not know who she is. Will you tell me?” she asked, sighing. 

Abnar paused for a moment, as if carefully considering his next words, before continuing. “The wind from this desert promises death, and it is the Sand Goddess who protects the spirits, the lingering regrets, even the abominable apparitions, who perish in her domain. Here she has lived all this time, without fail. All who worship the Sand Goddess, and all who do not, meet the same fate once the sand claims them.”

If Zelda dared to reveal her growing impatience, she would have derided him for ignoring her question. Yet, she tried to convince herself this was his long-winded way of telling her what she needed to know. 

“You have embarked on a great undertaking,” Abnar continued, “but you must be prepared. For, you see, memories linger even in places long forgotten by the world. More invisible than spirits. And much more treacherous.”

Zelda nodded and decided it was now appropriate to speak. “There is a shadow that follows me. With each Sage that I awaken, it grows stronger. Why is this?”

Abnar’s eyes widened. “You have seen it?”

Zelda felt a chill run down her spine in response to his reaction. Was he…afraid? “Yes. It will be waiting for me once I leave this chamber. I am certain. It has tried to attack me once before.”

Abnar put his entire weight onto his staff, mumbling to himself, and Zelda thought he might actually snap it in two. “No…no…they were to remain sealed, even if we were awakened…”

Zelda took a step forward, daring to push against the wave of terror and apprehension oozing from Abnar. As she drew closer, the Sage drew himself up as if she’d startled him.

“Who is this shadow?” Zelda tried to reduce her voice to the gentlest of whispers as if she were soothing a skittish Cucco who might cluck and fly off into the sunset.

The Sage was quiet for a long time before finally answering. “You have one more Sage to awaken, do you not? I cannot give you your answer here, but you must know that this shadow seeks revenge, and it will not stop until it has achieved its goal.”

“I must know what this apparition is!” Zelda insisted. “Why does it want revenge?”

“You will know soon enough,” Abnar tried to wave her question away with his hand. “In fact, I believe you were destined to know all along.”

“You must tell me!” Zelda pleaded, completely abandoning her patience. “In the Water Temple, it took on the appearance of the Hero of Time. It knows I am not a member of the Sheikah clan and that I’m awakening the Sages. It speaks to me. Why?”

“Ah yes,” Abnar stared past her, his eyes seeming to glaze over. “The sin speaks.”

Zelda stomped her foot, the water splashing onto her leg. Her clenched fists were trembling now. She had come all this way, fought so hard, only to be met with more riddles. She then took in a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. She still had questions, and he would answer them.

Abnar noticed her frustration and sighed. “You asked me before about Hylia. It is not my place to tell you who she was. Go to the Shadow Temple, where the last Sage awaits. He will tell you…about Hylia and the Sheikah. You will soon know the truth, but it must be there.”

Zelda sighed. It seemed to be of no use. Still, she had one last question, and she had no one else to ask.

“There is a place here, hidden within the Haunted Wasteland,” she said. “A cursed mirror rests there, and it is known as the Arbiter’s Grounds.”

Abnar slowly turned to face her, his eyes now wide with terror. He slumped over his cane, panting as if all the wind had been knocked out of him. Zelda took a step forward, hoping she would finally get an answer this time.

“Please,” she begged. “I must know what this place is.”

“You must never go there!” Abnar rasped and swatted at her with one hand, willing her not to get any closer. “You must stay away!”

The Chamber of Sages faded almost instantly, and Zelda nearly tumbled backward at the abrupt transition. Yet, despite Abnar’s panicked outburst, she unfurled her hand to find the bronze Spirit medallion nestled in it. 

She then paused for a moment to allow the Sage’s words to fully sink in. The Arbiter’s Grounds. So, it existed after all! 

“Ah, yes, it seems they’ve fallen into our trap, sister,” came an old croaking voice.

“Indeed, we must see what we can make of them,” came another voice.

Zelda turned to see two tiny, green-skinned hags floating above her on broomsticks, each nearly disappearing into their identical black robes. In fact, they were both almost completely symmetrical in appearance as well, right down to their bulging eyes, save that one sported a red jewel on her forehead, while the other wore blue. 

Nabooru appeared at her side, spinning her twin scimitars in her hands as she rolled and stretched her neck, fully prepared for a fight. “Koume and Kotake, Ganondorf’s witch mothers. You should have been faster!”

“And now the handsome one knows our name!” Koume, who wore the red jewel, giggled.

“That makes it much easier!” Kotake purred.

Zelda clutched her kodachi, her mind still filled to the brim with unanswered questions and uncertainty. Yet, it would all have to wait. If these two truly were as Nabooru had described, their master had already been alerted of her presence. There was no time to fight. They both needed to get away. 

She froze. The Shadow! Where was it?

“Nabooru…” Zelda tried to keep her tone of voice as even as possible. “Be wary of the shadows in this room.”

Nabooru’s brow furrowed.  “Shadows?”

Zelda nodded as the two witches descended towards them, each cackling in unison. The sands of time seemed to be roaring against them all, filled with lingering regrets and confusion.

And all the more dangerous.

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