21: Ganondorf’s Ambition

Time hadn’t truly been on Zelda’s side, though she certainly could have asked for the Goddess of Time’s assistance had she possessed the Ocarina of Time. Even still, time moved as destiny dictated, its weavings a mystery to all but possibly the Golden Goddesses themselves. 

Yet, as Zelda soared through the open window, all sense of time seemed to slow until it nearly vanished. For a moment, there was nothing but pitch-black darkness as she landed on what felt like a carpeted stairway. 

Quickly, her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, and soon she could make out the muted, yellow light being cast by the patternless stained glass windows onto the blood-red carpet of the stairway.

She traced the path of the steps upward, and that was when she heard it, the distinct, yet faint, sounds of an organ echoing from above. Yes, that had to be it! Ganondorf was just beyond it, waiting for her.

Without hesitation, she began what felt like a procession, her and all of the hopes and dreams of her people, along the steps, the organ serving as her guide as its foreboding melody grew with intensity the farther she ascended. Her heart hammered in her chest, her palms growing as cold and clammy as wet sand. She continued rushing up the stairway, which seemed like it would never end, until she reached a colossal door adorned with a sun pattern, each of its rays webbing across its face. 

At her touch, it slid upwards, and she slowly ambled across its threshold into a chamber she deduced must be the throne room. The haze she’d seen drifting all across Hyrule Field was at its most potent in this hall, and she covered her mouth with one hand, fearing she’d stumbled into a miasmic trap.

She was so preoccupied with turning back that she almost didn’t see the figure with his back to her, his red hair swept up like a crown of fire, and hulking green hands with bulbous fingers that somehow managed to dance across the organ’s keys even more delicately than she with her harp. 

There he stood, Ganondorf, the King of Evil. He slowly turned to face her, bringing his playing to an abrupt end. Unlike the phantom she’d faced before, he seemed much taller and muscular, and Zelda was certain he would be just as worthy an adversary in both sword and sorcery. His golden eyes narrowed as he glared at her.

“The Princess of Destiny called out to the people of Hyrule,” he spoke in a deep, rumbling voice, “and now a Sheikah stands before me.” 

Though his voice was full of venom, it still sounded as if he was mildly amused. Most of his face was partially hidden in the shadows, his golden eyes glowing eerily in the darkness. Zelda took a step forward, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her sword.

“Hyrule is a land of darkness and ruin!” she called out. “You are nothing but a king of destruction!”

Ganondorf chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. “Ah yes…the Sheikah know much about darkness and ruin, don’t they?”

Zelda found herself hesitating despite her best efforts to remain calm and resolute, her eyes nearly falling to the floor before she caught herself. “I will not let you destroy Hyrule!”

“And how do you plan to stop me this time, little princess?” Ganondorf’s voice dripped with mockery as he considered her, not the young Sheikah man she appeared to be. “Your little disguise fools no one!”

He shot his hand forward, the sickly-green sparks crackling around his fingers exploding into a lightning bolt that cut through the miasma as easily as velvet. Zelda didn’t have time to react as the spell hit her square in the chest, knocking her backward.

She scrambled to her feet, reaching for her kodachi only to notice it had vanished. She patted herself down as she scanned the floor for any sign of the sword, and that was when she discovered that she was back in her royal gown and regalia once more. Gone was the Sheikah disguise of a male warrior. She now stood before Ganondorf as she truly was, Princess Zelda, heir to the throne of Hyrule, and Ganondorf’s final adversary.

“I will commend you,” Ganondorf chuckled again, though naturally his praise rang false. “You have managed to survive this long. Even Koume and Kotake were no match for you, but no one will come to your rescue like before. It is time for you to meet your end!”

The chamber blazed to life as every torch lining its perimeter erupted, casting pillars of fire that nearly scorched the ceiling. The floor trembled as the organ dissolved into dust, its remains never reaching the floor. Zelda was certain her heart was pounding much more fiercely than before, but all she could focus on was readying herself for their first exchange.

This was it. This would be the end.

Ganondorf raised his hand again, a swirling globe of smoke-like dark energy spinning just beyond his fingertips. Zelda raised her hand in response, her blessing from Nayru materializing just in time to deflect the spell, though the force of the impact nearly sent her sliding back across the floor.

Ganondorf’s hulking steps were measured and deliberate as he began closing the distance between them. “You have certainly grown stronger, much stronger than I anticipated, but all of your strength will be for nothing. You still cannot defeat me.”

Zelda reinforced her shield just as he hurled another blast of dark energy at her. This time, the spell dissipated long before it reached the shield, and she finally allowed the corner of her mouth to rise into a smirk.

“This will go quite differently this time,” Zelda dismissed her shield and closed her eyes, calling upon the power of the Sages. She watched as every inch of her body began to glow, a humming sensation resonating from the bottom of her stomach. Once it lifted, she found that her Sheikah disguise had returned, and her kodachi was once again strapped to her hip. “If you can hold a sword, now would be the time to find it.”

Ganondorf scoffed, though there was genuine amusement in it. “Very well.”

He gestured to the side, and a column of smoke and fire burst from the floor and collided with his hand. He yanked at the fire and pulled out a massive black sword with the jagged edges of a dagger. He swung it through the air a few times to test its weight before returning his attention to Zelda. “Let us see how quickly you fall.”

He charged at her, his sword raised high, and Zelda leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. The next time he swiped at her, she barely had time to block it before being launched backward against the wall. By a stroke of luck, the impact didn’t knock the wind out of her, but Ganondorf was upon her in an instant, confident he’d already secured a finishing blow.

Even in that split second, Zelda chose just the right moment to roll to the side, and Ganondorf embedded his sword in the wall, sending a spiderweb of cracks in every direction. He yanked it out with a growl of frustration and turned to face her again.

This time, Zelda was ready for him. She dodged his next few attacks with ease, her kodachi a blur as she parried his sword. Ganondorf’s annoyance grew with each strike that didn’t connect, and Zelda took advantage of his anger. She leaped forward with the practiced swiftness she’d learned from Impa and drove her kodachi into his shoulder, and he roared in pain before stumbling backward, clutching at his wound.

“Ha!” he raised his hand and shot another blast of dark energy at her, but she merely swatted it away with her hand.

“Magic has always been your ally!” Zelda laced her voice with as much contempt as she could muster, “but it cannot save you now!”

Ganondorf snarled and charged at her again, but Zelda kept up her offensive, never giving him a chance to recover or rest. She kept this up until she finally saw her opportunity. 

Ganondorf finally stumbled and fell to one knee, and Zelda sprang forward, prepared to deliver the final blow. Her mother’s face flashed in her mind, how she used to kiss her on the forehead, how her face grew rigid when she wanted to protect Zelda from the truth.

She thought about the Gerudo, once Ganondorf’s subjects, who now fought the hordes below, the death of Nabooru weighing heavily on their shoulders. Zelda’s eyes became wet with tears, but she did not falter even as the horrible scene in the Spirit Temple unfolded in her mind once again. Nabooru dropping her arms in defeat. The silver gauntlets sizzling and crackling as smoke rose into the air. Her screams as the shadow brought its blade down on her.

Ganondorf’s hate-filled eyes met hers, and at that moment, Zelda knew he understood what was about to happen. He would be brought down, not by the Hero of Time, but by the Princess of Destiny. He would never again plague the world with his darkness.

Yet, it all happened so quickly. One moment, she noticed Ganondorf’s shadow bend at an unnatural angle before rising from the floor, twisting and writhing as if experiencing the most terrible pain one could imagine. Its form folded and twisted upon itself until finally settling into the vague figure of a man. 

A long, slender shape slithered out from its hand, and the Shadow lurched forward, plunging it through Ganondorf’s back, its tip exploding from his chest. Ganondorf roared in pain as the Shadow withdrew its blade and vanished into the darkness.

Zelda stared in disbelief at the scene before her, reaching out her hand as if to stop it from happening. Ganondorf’s body fell to the ground with a thud, his sword clattering beside him. His body then dissolved into a pool of black liquid, which quickly evaporated, leaving only his black sword behind.

“And I saw the Sacred Realm open before me.”

Zelda slowly lifted her eyes from the floor where Ganondorf’s body had once been and found herself standing face to face with the Shadow, once again in the form of Dark Link. His red eyes met Zelda’s, and she took a step backward in surprise. She had to get away. She had to alert the Sages!

“Six wise beings sat in peace, faith, and temperance,” Dark Link continued, his hollow voice echoing through the room. “And yet the Goddesses allowed them to be struck down, chastened, erased…”

He drew his black sword and pointed it at her. “And so they were, by six of your wisest.”

At his words, five other figures rose from the floor beside him, wailing and snatching at everything around them as if desperately trying to find something to cling to. Zelda covered her ears, but it was no use, for their cries still rang clear.

“We come to give relief to you, spawn of Hylia,” Dark Link waved his hand, and the other Shadows became whole, each with long, white hair, red eyes, and long, dark robes with the red Sheikah emblem. Zelda could tell their frames beneath the robes were slender, and their expressions were merciless, overflowing with rage and hatred. They joined hands with each other and began performing the same chant Zelda had heard in the depths of the Shadow Temple.

“You who are afflicted with the burden of mortality,” Dark Link’s words seemed to be enhanced by the chanting, rippling across Zelda’s skin like tainted water. “At last, the Sacred Realm will open once again! You have done well to assemble your kingdoms as we asked! Now, we repay your diligence by casting you into our kingdom of torment! I name myself Adelora!”

The other figures began calling out their names, each voice varying in its timbre, but all with the same unmistakable bloodlust reflected in their piercing, red eyes.

“Faaz!”

“Nymono!”

“Olufumi!”

“Bago Baako!”

“Zowona!”

“And behold, in this time, we restore ourselves!” Dark Link proclaimed as the other Sheikari converged on him, merging with his shadow. “We are the Sheikari!”