Sin of Sheikari Chapter 7
7: To Claim Neverland
The Forest Temple had always been at odds with its surroundings, a peculiar structure that looked as if someone had plucked an old noble house’s ancestral mansion from its hilltop perch and dropped it in the middle of the woods.
In fact, Zelda had seen structures just like it when learning about the great houses that once plotted to unseat her royal family during the Civil War. Yet, just like those now-ruined mansions, there was no hope of restoring it.
By her estimate, she was in a foyer of sorts, and she allowed herself to find amusement in how cleverly nature had reclaimed it. The floor, which she figured had once been finely-polished limestone, had completely vanished, now a carpet of the same lush, hardly-disturbed grass she’d seen outside.
A spiderweb of vines–some a deep burgundy while others faded into emerald green–covered nearly every inch of the surrounding stone walls she could see. It should have all looked much more ruinous. Instead, it was as if the forest was trying to preserve this place, as if it somehow still needed this intrusive dwelling.
From inside this foyer-turned-terrarium, Zelda couldn’t guess how much farther she needed to go, and it likely wouldn’t matter anyway. Reaching a Sage was hardly an easy task, even if she was the Hero of Time.
If she were the Hero, for instance, the temple would activate its traps and barriers so as to force the Hero to test his worth against the obstacles present, his reward for passing being an audience with the newly-awakened Sage.
For Zelda, it would be different. The temple would recognize her for who she truly was, rendering all potential hindrances inside dormant. A lone door stood on the other side of the room, her only way to move forward. She hesitated, the realization of what she was about to do washing over her, and she took a deep breath. There was no going back now.
She then reached for her kodachi, having sensed them the moment she’d entered the foyer.
The room filled with a chorus of howls as the first Wolfos shot up from the ground and swiped at her, but she managed to dodge and roll to the side before driving her blade upward into its chest. It wailed in pain as flames consumed it, and she tugged her blade free as the monster vanished, narrowly dodging another attack from behind.
She whirled around to face the second Wolfos, its red, glowing eyes and muzzle dripping with saliva almost level with her own face. Seeing its comrade fall made it all the more bold and ferocious, yet Zelda managed to deflect its strikes long enough to create distance between them.
Eventually she managed to dodge behind it, kicking it between its shoulder blades before rolling away. The monster slowly got back up on all fours, growling at her as she barely dodged another swipe. She brought her blade up again, this time stabbing the foe directly in the heart. It yelped before howling just like its comrade, vanishing in a pillar of flames.
Content she’d cleared the room of all enemies, Zelda rushed to the door, opening and quickly closing it behind her. A Skulltula hung from the ceiling, waiting for her to get close enough to strike.
She’d heard of these foes before, though she’d never seen them in person. They were large spiders whose backs, strong enough to withstand even the mightiest blades, resembled white skulls. An attacker’s only chance of defeating it was by managing to pierce its soft underbelly.
With its abundance of scarlet-colored eyes, it should have noticed the figure it was glaring at was a mere phantom, the real Zelda having already darted across the corridor. She rushed through the door as the Skulltula rustled frantically behind her, realizing the ruse far too late.
Now in a much larger chamber with multiple doors along its perimeter, Zelda deduced she was in the center of the temple. Before her rested a strange pillar with space big enough for someone to stand in, much like a miniature stall that would only hold one person. Zelda approached cautiously, noting she didn’t detect the presence of any enemies.
Upon closer examination, it looked like a mechanism of sorts, and, though she wanted to continue to exercise caution, she also somehow felt as if this strange contraption would lead her exactly where she needed to go. She stepped onto its inner platform, and it immediately began to descend. She stumbled, clearly startled by the sudden movement, but quickly regained herself.
She watched as the floor around her began to rise, continually descending until she could see nothing but the muted gray of the stone floors, the light above just strong enough not to plunge her into complete darkness. Eventually, the mechanism halted, and Zelda found herself in a circular chamber with multiple passageways, all of them blocked by a stone wall except for the one directly in front of her. A corridor stretched out from where she was standing, though it was too dark to see the end of it.
Still, she pressed onward and was relieved to find that the other side of the corridor brightened as she drew closer. She then found herself in yet another seemingly-empty chamber with a raised platform in the center. The platform was enclosed with a fence of velvet ropes, its corners dotted with Triforce symbols, while a larger symbol was engraved in the center. It was much like standing on top of a giant clock.
She looked up and was startled to find the walls covered in portraits, each one identical to the next. All of them displayed the same scene: a dirt path that stretched away into the distance towards a black mountain. Withered, gray trees flanked the path, their spidery branches reaching up into a midnight blue sky. Though she couldn’t make out the original purpose of this room, the magic, the sense of purpose, surging through her was telling her only one thing.
She’d made it.
Zelda moved to position herself over the large Triforce symbol, and she found her gaze drawn to the portraits once more. She’d been certain each of them looked exactly the same, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched. She shook her head. Perhaps it was simply the Ancient Sage’s presence she was detecting.
So, she clasped her hands together, and the floor beneath her began to faintly glow in response before erupting into white tendrils of light that spread around her like ethereal vines. She then spread her hands, clasping her mother’s harp as it materialized before her, as if it had been there all along. Without hesitating, she began strumming it, a melody she’s never played but somehow always known emanating throughout the chamber.
The web of light shifted away from her feet before settling one one side of the raised platform. It flickered before taking on a green hue, and, as if someone had thrown a new log in its fire, it swirled upward, twisting and shaking until it began to calm and solidify, taking on a distinct, human-like shape.
Zelda felt her shoulders relax as she let out a sigh of relief. She’d found him! She dismissed the harp back into its hiding place just as an old man wearing green robes that looked as if they would soon swallow his slight frame stepped forth from the pillar of light.
His hair was long and stark white, matched in length by his flowing, wispy beard. His deep green eyes took up the majority of his face, and the Triforce symbol was nestled in the center of his green robes, serving as further confirmation of his status.
Zelda stumbled back, surprised by his sudden appearance. He looked around the room, his face contorted with confusion. His eyes then landed on Zelda, his expression shifting to vexation.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice shrill and reedy. “I do not belong in this realm! My presence disturbs the pact made years ago! Why do you pull me into this world now?”
Zelda winced internally at his outburst, though she steeled herself outwardly. Impa had warned her she might receive this reaction. Still, she had braved much danger just to reach this place, and she had several more trials still to face.
“Honorable Sage of Forest,” Zelda bowed, hoping a sign of respect would quell his annoyance with her. “I come before you because Hyrule is shrouded in darkness. Ganondorf, the King of Evil, rules the kingdom unopposed.”
The Sage regarded her for a moment, studying her as if she were a Mad Deku Scrub.
“The Sacred Realm should have awakened new sages…” his eyes wandered around the chamber as he spoke, as if suddenly disturbed by something. “Yet I do not sense its call, even now. Where is the prophesized Hero of Time?”
Zelda hung her head before looking up to meet his eyes, once again meant to face a reality she’d accepted long ago. “I fear he is gone from this world completely.”
The Sage’s eyes widened in horror. “That is impossible! Surely, you jest!”
Zelda shook her head, hoping to stave off the weariness growing from within her stomach. “He departed on a journey through this very forest seven years ago, and he never returned to Hyrule. I come here in his stead.”
The Sage opened his mouth, and Zelda was certain he would immediately protest. Yet, he merely nodded, his expression softening. “Do forgive me. You may call me Nove, child. I never expected to be awakened, but you are no ordinary Hylian. Even in your disguise, I know you to be one of Hylia’s reincarnations.”
Zelda squinted, confused by the Sage’s words. “Reincarnation?”
At this, Nove chuckled, but he didn’t smile. Instead, his expression became both sad and whimsical. “With the passage of time, it appears such knowledge has been forgotten, but no matter. You must wait for the Hero of Time to return. Perhaps his absence is why the Sacred Realm hesitates to send the awakening call.”
Zelda huffed, and the dam that had been holding back her exasperation broke, threatening to surge out of her like the geysers that surrounded Death Mountain. Why didn’t anyone understand?
“I have waited long enough!” Zelda exclaimed, her hands balling into fists. “For years I’ve waited while Hyrule continues to rot! I will defeat Ganondorf myself! Please! I implore you to help me!”
Nove scoffed, and the portraits above them faded away as if someone had dispelled an illusion. The floors and walls followed as the pair was soon enveloped in complete darkness. Zelda’s eyes darted all around her, desperately searching for any sign of light, before she took a step sideways and felt the familiar sensation of water that was neither cold nor warm splashing up against her.
As if the wind had carried off a cloud that had been blocking out the sun, the floating pools of water came into view once more, waterfalls plunging from their eternally churning fountains. She looked down and could once again see the colored symbols that represented each Sage. She’d returned to the Chamber of Sages, the meeting place of all chosen by the Sacred Realm.
Her gaze landed on the forest symbol just as a pillar of light began to rise from it. Nove soon came into view, his green eyes glowing as he looked upon Zelda.
“I would tell you something,” his words echoed as if where they stood was much smaller than it appeared, as if the chamber didn’t stretch across an unfathomable distance. “Do you know the origin of this place, this Forest Temple?”
Zelda shook her head the same way she did as a child listening to her tutors. It was a silent display of obedience, that she intended to listen without interrupting.
Nove took a scholarly pause before continuing. “This place was once a lush, empty meadow where the fae gathered undisturbed. That was until men entered it, seeking a place to build a stronghold for war. They succeeded in building that stronghold, but the forest claimed them and sent their children to the Great Deku Tree.”
Zelda pondered Nove’s words, Saria’s image flashing through her mind, and her body grew cold with realization.
“You should leave here soon. Adults who stay here too long become Stalfos.”
Yes, the forest made sure to correct anything that didn’t belong. Yet, perhaps it had shown mercy once. Perhaps, it knew the difference between innocence and malice.
“Those children…” Zelda chose her words carefully. “Then the Kokiri must be…”
If Nove had heard her unfinished question, he chose not to answer. “Do not underestimate the land you wish to protect. Eventually, those who are wicked will be claimed. Fate is inescapable.”
The pillar of brilliant green light erupted once more, encasing Nove until Zelda could no longer make out his figure within it.
“Wait!” she called out, but Chamber of the Sages was already beginning to fade as if she was waking up from a vivid dream, the large pool becoming the raised stone pillar surrounded by portraits once more.
Zelda clenched her fists and winced as a hard object pressed against the inside of her knuckles. She uncurled her fingers and discovered she was holding a green medallion with the Forest symbol engraved in it. Relief coursed through her like a gentle current as she accepted that the Sage of Forest was going to help her after all.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder at Nove’s revelation. Why would men even come to this place in the middle of a war? She recalled her lessons about the Civil War, another time of darkness where all fought to claim the Triforce for themselves.
Zelda had always been mesmerized by the origin of the Triforce and the Golden Goddesses who had shaped the world before departing, the holy relic serving as proof of their existence and divinity.
Yet, in all her studies, she’d never heard of a goddess named Hylia, and she’d always assumed it was merely the name of the largest lake in her kingdom. And, to her knowledge, there were no places of worship dedicated to someone named “Hylia” either. So, how was it possible that she was the reincarnation of this forgotten goddess?
She shook her head, allowing the corner of her mouth to creep up into a sardonic smirk. Of course she was the reincarnation of a forgotten deity. It certainly explained why she’d initially stood no change against the King of Evil. After all, how great was this Hylia if no one even remembered who she was?
Deciding to distract herself for a moment, she gazed back up at the paintings, observing each one again. She still wasn’t sure what she’d been looking for before she’d awakened Nove, yet she found herself unable to look away from them.
What was their purpose, and who had left them here? Given how ancient the structure appeared inside and out, it was surprising to find this chamber as undisturbed as it was to begin with. Usually, the rats, insects, or other subterranean creatures would have claimed this place as their own, having long eaten through the portraits for sustenance.
And even though Zelda was no eccentric art collector, she was certain anyone would be impressed at the near-mint condition the portraits were in even after so many years. Yet, out of the corner of her eye, she could swear one of the withered, gray trees was now casting a peculiar shadow. It resembled a human shape, standing in a rigid upright position, as if it was glaring at an intruder.
Zelda brandished her kodachi without hesitation. She was certain now. Something else was in the room with her.
“You are not Sheikah.”
The voice was deep and hollow yet full of anger and disgust, and Zelda could tell her presence deeply disturbed whoever had spoken. A feeling of dread collapsed over her immediately, like a filthy rainfall she’d been too late to huddle away from. She whirled around, searching for the source of the voice, but the shadow she’d seen before had already vanished. The paintings once again appeared to be identical.
“Awaken them.”
If the presence had come down on her like a foul storm, it lifted like the mist storms often left behind until she could no longer detect it. The sound of something sizzling caught her attention just as the portraits began to shake as if caught in an earthquake. Then, they withered into black, faceless husks before crumbling into chunks of rotting wood that vanished before they touched the floor.
Zelda bent down into a crouch, huddling against herself, her arms feeling heavier than the stone walls that surrounded her. Why did she feel so empty all of a sudden, so helpless?
She stretched out her hand as she slowly rose back to her feet, grabbing the harp from its invisible hiding place and began to strum it absently. Before long, a new melody she’d never heard yet longed to play coursed through her mind.
A march. The beating of drums. Yes, that was it. The song was coming to her, and it would soon carry her off to the next destination. The tendrils of light appeared again, this time colored red, and surrounded her until she could see nothing else.
She would now fly to the highest mountain, holding onto the hope that her weight would soon be lifted.
