Sin of Sheikari Chapter 4
Chapter 4: A Message from the Past
Time had become a distant, standoffish concept, a specter that would sooner melt into the wooden floorboards of Impa’s cabin than regard any lesser being.
Zelda could only vaguely gauge her whereabouts as her vision faded in and out of view, her mind continuing to race, desperately trying to gain a foothold. She was certain she was awake somehow, yet any effort to move proved to be in vain.
Had that last spell drained her that badly? She wordlessly called out to the rest of her body, every inch of her being on the verge of being consumed by panic. Finally, she achieved the first sensation she’d felt since her world was covered in that dazzling green light: tears.
She’d cried like this a number of times in her life, especially after first arriving in the abandoned Sheikah village. Before that, it was when her father had scolded her for trying to sneak into town.
She’d fled to the courtyard, her favorite place in the entire castle, to soothe the burns from her father’s bristling tongue. Closing her eyes and clenching her firsts, she would have decided then and there she’d never speak to him again. That was when her mother had finally found her.
“Your father and I were very worried,” she’d knelt down, resting a hand on her daughter’s trembling shoulder. “We couldn’t find you.”
“Oh, but Father hates me!” Zelda had quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and spun away from her mother.
Yet the queen had not been deterred, wrapping her arms around the young princess, stroking the hair beneath her headdress. “You mustn’t say such things. He does not hate you. He simply worries about your safety.”
“I just…” Zelda had tried to fix her posture, sniffling despite her attempt to hide her sorrow with dignity. “I just wanted to make a new friend, that’s all! And when I tried to explain, he wouldn’t even listen! He never listens!”
Her mother had chuckled as she wiped away Zelda’s tears with her handkerchief, and Zelda finally turned to face her. The late afternoon light had cast a reverent glow on the queen’s bronze skin and fiery red hair, and Zelda was certain those who didn’t know her regarded her as nothing short of a goddess reborn.
She had never seen anyone as radiant and poised. Though Zelda looked much more like her father, she’d been born with the same blue eyes as her mother.
“You know my favorite thing about you?” her mother had asked as they both stopped to watch a pair of sparrows drift down into the garden. “You love it all, my duckling.”
“What do you mean?” Zelda had asked before she noticed she was grasping her mother’s arm, the same way her father had told her not to. He’d said it was undignified at her age, to cling to her mother like a spoiled babe.
“Even when you’re afraid, you still find the courage to love,” her mother had answered, not even once mentioning her daughter’s touch. “Even being born a princess, I’ve never known you to treat anyone unkindly, no matter their status. You have a powerful gift.”
Zelda had scrunched up her face and shook her head. “That’s not what father says. He says my visions are my gift. He says I’m the Princess of Destiny, and I must always do what I can to fulfill it.”
Her mother had regarded her for a moment, her features suddenly becoming rigid. Zelda had seen her make that face only a handful of times, when she felt her mother wanted to say something but couldn’t. The queen had eventually allowed a smile to cross her face before leaning down to kiss her daughter on the forehead.
“My darling, destiny can be broken. You are so much more than that.”
Zelda startled at someone’s touch, realizing she was still on the edge of consciousness. She tried to at least turn her head towards whoever was now stroking her hair, but a stern voice bade her to remain still.
“Don’t try to get up,” Impa’s voice was quiet yet commanding as always, as if someone was always listening in on their conversations. She’d been that way ever since Zelda could remember, stern yet gentle when needed. After all, Zelda’s earliest memories were filled with Impa filling her room with the gentle melody of her favorite lullaby.
She could sometimes understand why Impa was so careful. The Sheikah spoke of many ancient legends, long esteemed as attendants to the royal family of Hyrule. They were an old, secretive people, their crimson eyes and gray hair denoting their heritage and wisdom.
Perhaps it was that wisdom that led them away from a land doomed to fall prey to a mad sorcerer, regardless of the timeline.
“We made it back to the village thanks to your magic,” Impa spoke once more. Zelda managed to finally open her eyes, and it was as if all of her senses returned to her at once, aches and sorrow pouring into her body like an overdrawn bath. It wouldn’t be long before it all spilled over and sent her back into the abyss, but she fastened her grip on maintaining consciousness all the same.
“How long?” Zelda barely managed to croak out, feeling as if she’d swallowed a glass full of sand. It was a miracle she could speak at all.
There was a long pause before Impa replied, “It’s been at least two days now. I warned you not to go. Why didn’t you listen?”
The silence stretched before them for much longer than Zelda would have liked, the memories of the battle rushing through her mind. Phantom Ganon raising his trident, the sky being covered in black, sickly-green storm clouds, Zelda’s spell sending them far away from Hyrule Field. Yes, it was all worse now than it was before she’d stepped foot in the ruins of Lon Lon Ranch.
“I couldn’t do it,” she whispered. “I couldn’t save them.”
Impa sighed. “You must not say such things.”
Zelda felt herself being gently raised up against the headboard of her bed. She squinted up at Impa, noting her guardian still had on her Sheikah battle armor, her hair now tied up in a neat bun. And those crimson eyes, now burning with worry and frustration.
Zelda refused to hold Impa’s gaze, instantly feeling like a petulant child. “I stood before his puppet, called upon the Goddesses, and it still wasn’t enough. Why wasn’t it enough?”
Impa didn’t reply, but Zelda knew she was considering her question with care. Zelda peeked down at her hands, her fingers now wrinkled and thin as she began to sob.
Impa stroked her hair, cradling her, but Zelda’s sobs grew heavier. She collapsed into Impa, who continued to console her. “That was all you could have done. It is over now.”
The tears eventually slowed, and the two of them stayed still for a moment. After Zelda managed to take in a deep breath to calm herself, Impa slowly tucked her back into bed before starting towards the door.
“You need to rest,” Impa called behind her. “You won’t be back to full health for a few more days.”
Zelda nodded, and Impa stopped just before she reached the threshold. “I will bring the stew to you once it’s ready. I need to survey the area first. We should still be safe here.”
Zelda watched her leave, her thoughts returning to the image of the dark clouds swirling and bubbling over Hyrule Field. Her eyes then fell upon the window, noting it was still light out.
The sun’s rays lit up the wall opposite of where she was sitting, meaning it had to be just after dawn. Without looking, she reached down below the end table at her bedside, feeling for her kodachi. It was almost instinct now to grab it the moment she woke up, yet she placed it back down the moment she touched it.
What use did she even have for it now? Ganondorf had all but cast her aside like a crumbling flint, deeming her both useless and inconsequential in his eyes. What could she possibly do against someone that powerful?
Link had faced the evil sorcerer with only the Master Sword, yet Zelda, even with the Goddess’ gifts, had been swept away from the battlefield. Was he simply more skilled in combat than she was? What had Link done differently?
Zelda recalled the story the boy had told her, of how, in an alternate timeline, he’d climbed Ganondorf’s tower to find and save her. With the Triforce of Power in his possession, Ganondorf had transformed into Ganon, a fearsome beast who could only be stopped by the combined efforts of Link, Zelda, and the newly awakened Sages.
A combined effort…
Zelda gasped as the realization struck her. Even though he’d obtained the blade of evil’s bane, Link hadn’t defeated Ganondorf alone! He’d first needed to find the newly awakened Sages scattered across Hyrule. With all their power combined, Ganondorf had been sealed away forever.
And the leader of those Sages had been Zelda herself.
Zelda slinked back down onto her pillow, closing her eyes and letting out a breath she was certain she’d been holding for too long. Without a hero, the Sacred Realm wouldn’t awaken new Sages, yet there had to be an answer locked away somewhere.
She reached out with her very essence, opening herself up to a land far beyond human comprehension, the golden center of all creation: The Sacred Realm. Within seconds, she could feel the humming of magic coursing through her veins. Yes. She’d made contact.
When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in Impa’s cabin. Instead, she found herself standing on a water-filled platform that floated in the middle of a vast, dark chamber that seemed to stretch beyond infinity.
Surprisingly, even in the darkness, she could make out dozens of other floating platforms with water raining from them as if she was in the middle of a quiet, autumn shower. Yet, that would be all else she could see, for she knew there were no doors, walls, or windows in this place.
This was the Chamber of Sages, nestled within the Temple of Light at the very center of the Sacred Realm. None but Sages or those chosen by destiny could enter this sanctuary. Zelda felt a chill ripple across her skin. For her to be able to grace this hall with her presence, it meant destiny hadn’t abandoned her yet.
She took a step forward and gasped as the water splashed up against her shin, neither cold nor warm. Looking down at her feet, she noticed six colored symbols and instantly knew what they represented: forest, fire, water, spirit, shadow, and light.
These were the six symbols that represented each Sage, who would be awakened at their respective temples when the time came. Remembering this, she chuckled, trying to mask her disdain. Who would they awaken for now?
Perhaps the chamber could hear her heartache, as six figures began to rise from the symbols, and Zelda reflexively reached for her kodachi before lowering her hand, remembering it wasn’t fastened to her hip and would prove useless here even if she could draw it.
She couldn’t make out the figures’ faces, but she could see each of them donned long robes denoting their status as Sages. They stood unmoving, as if waiting for her to give them a directive, though Zelda was certain they couldn’t see her. No, their purpose was to show someone, anyone who could see into this chamber, what they needed to see.
If Zelda had blinked, she wouldn’t have noticed the wispy, silver tendrils snaking out the water like vines, twisting into new figures who now stood behind the Sages. These new apparitions were far more faint and slender, and, the moment Zelda laid eyes on them, she was overcome with a sense of dread, a growing, festering unease that closed itself around the inside of her chest.
The shadow figures each held out one hand, positioned as if they were about to strike. Zelda opened her mouth to call out to the Sages but found no sound would come out. Yet, the Sages would need no warning. They each raised their hands up toward the heavens, and the shadow figures evaporated instantly.
It all happened so quickly. Zelda was flung backwards, falling through the pool of water and emerging into an endless void. She desperately tried to search for any sign of the Sages, the shadow figures, the floating platforms, but could see nothing.
Her body lurched as if she’d been struck by lightning, and she found she was once again back in her bed, gasping for breath. Those Sages, the shadow figures, what did it all mean? Why had the shadow figures been trying to attack them, and who were they?
Something else tugged at Zelda’s mind, the robes the Sages were wearing. She was certain she’d seen them somewhere before now, but where? She clapped her hands together as if the memory had been buzzing right in front of her nose. The library, her mother’s favorite place in the castle!
Zelda had been studying the Hyrulean Civil War as her tutor had instructed, learning how her father worked to unify Hyrule under one banner. The king along with six wise men fought to protect the Sacred Realm, and these six wise men entered an eternal slumber at the war’s conclusion.
The six wise men were known as the Ancient Sages.
At that moment, Zelda cast off whatever remaining despair had cloaked her before. She had her answer. If she wanted to defeat Ganondorf and save Hyrule, she couldn’t do it alone. No one could, but there was still hope.
She reached for her kodachi again, this time certain that she intended to use it.
