22: Shadow’s Vengeance

There was an unknown legend, passed down by the Sheikah, known to some as the “shadow folk.” 

Those who would seek out the sacred triangle would do well to heed its resting place, the Sacred Realm, for it was a mirror that reflected what was in the heart. If an evil heart, the realm would become full of pure evil; if pure, the realm would become a paradise.

The Triforce, the sacred triangle, was a balance that weighed the three forces: Courage, Wisdom, and Power. Only one with all three forces in balance could gain the True Force to govern all. If that person’s heart was not in balance, the Triforce would separate into three parts encompassing Courage, Wisdom, and Power.

Only one part would remain for the one who touched the Triforce, that part representing the force they most believed in. To gain the True Force, they would need to acquire the two lost parts.

The Sheikah knew of this legend, yet the Sheikari…

Zelda tried to steady her breathing as the knowledge flooded her mind, unsure why it was coming to her now. She had locked herself into her battle stance, sword at the ready, yet she felt completely frozen, eyes wide and unblinking. No. She wouldn’t dare blink at a time like this.

Dark Link regarded her silently, arms folded with his sword back in its hilt. Zelda took a moment to glance down at Ganondorf’s dark, twisted blade, the only reminder that he had ever existed. Her knuckles whitened as the grip on her kodachi tightened. She was certain Dark Link would strike at any moment.

No. It wasn’t Dark Link…or Link at all. He had called himself Adelora, and there were at least five other beings inside of him, but why had they taken on his appearance to begin with?

“This man thought he could command the people of Hyrule from atop his ashen horse, yet before the wind he became nothing.”

Zelda was too late in trying to stop the shuddering gasp that escaped her lips. This time, when Adelora spoke, his lips didn’t move, yet his words rang as clearly as if he’d whispered them into her ear. 

His voice was ancient yet ageless, as if he was speaking to her from beyond time and space. Yet, Zelda didn’t dare break eye contact, silently preparing to call out to the Goddess Farore, when Adelora spoke once more.

“You will go nowhere.”

He flew at her then, a blur of blackness and steel, their blades clashing in a flurry of sparks. Adelora, predictably, was relentless, attacking her with a savagery she had never seen before. She gritted her teeth and countered, but she was already being driven back.

Her opponent’s face was expressionless as he fought, his red eyes cold and free of any emotion. Was it possible to find mercy in any part of him now? Had he been reborn into a machine, a weapon only designed to kill?

Zelda stumbled and fell to one knee, Adelora’s blade at her throat. Yet, she still dared to look up at him, her eyes hardening. “I call upon the Goddess Farore…”

Adelora’s face remained impassive, but his grip on his sword tightened. “She cannot save you.”

He raised his sword, and Zelda closed her eyes just as she vanished from sight. However, when she materialized again, she had only moved a few feet away from where she was standing before.

Adelora appeared in front of her again, his sword raised high above his head as he prepared to strike. Zelda reacted on instinct, bringing up Nayru’s spell. Yet, Adelora slashed through it, shattering it like glass, and Zelda barely managed to dodge the swipe that would have certainly claimed her throat. 

“You give authority to men who war over their claim to the Triforce!” He struck again, and though Zelda had time to react, she was sent flying backward by the impact. “Yet we were its protectors! We were the guardians of the Sacred Realm!”

Zelda recovered just as she looked up to see Adelora bearing down on her again. She called out to Farore and disappeared, once again only managing to teleport a short distance away. Adelora, moving faster than her eyes could follow, was already upon her, his blade to her throat once more.

“You will not escape me,” his voice sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth, clearly losing patience. “None of you will escape us! We will pour out onto the land all of our burning hatred, our eternal scorn that burns even now! Hyrule will then be devoured!”

Still, Zelda wouldn’t be detoured. She had to get away. Yet, nothing happened at all the next time she called upon Farore, and Nayru provided her with no shield. The  resulting chill that ran down her spine could have frozen over and crumbled the entire tower they inhabited. She sheathed her sword, realizing she had only one option left.

She called out to Din, yet no globe of firelight danced at her fingertips. Instead, the torches flickered before going out all at once, casting the pair into total darkness. Zelda nearly shrieked as she recalled the horrifying scene in the depths of the Shadow Temple, where the ghouls wailed and clawed at her in the dark. 

She had just collapsed to her knees when the torches burst to life again, yet now she almost preferred they hadn’t. Adelora was right. There was no escape.

This time, she would neither raise her sword nor attempt another spell. She lowered her arms and closed her eyes, thinking of her mother as she waited for Adelora to strike her down at last. However, the blow never came.

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of metal upon metal, another blade matching the Sheikari’s so well it flung him backward in surprise. The figure of a man crouched in front of Zelda where Adelora had once stood, his back to her as he slowly rose to his full height.

His golden armor  was both extravagant and exotic, adorned with intricate red patterns, nearly resembling tribal markings at first glance. Zelda had never seen anything like it, even in her history texts. In his right hand was a round, golden shield with the same red markings, while he gripped a longsword in his left hand that was softly glowing in the torchlight. 

His head was hidden underneath a helmet with three claw-like appendages that formed a cross motif. He removed it as he turned to face her, his blonde hair and blue eyes piercing through the darkness with the ferocity of a wolf.

Adelora stood up, a mocking laugh escaping his lips. “Ah yes. The true horseman.”

Zelda gasped as the realization finally settled upon her. “It can’t be!”

The man nodded, his smile slight and sad, as if he’d fought thousands of battles and gone on countless journeys, of someone who had given up on finding peace long ago. Yet, standing before him, Zelda felt renewed hope.

Because, at last, the Hero of Time had returned.