The Legend of Zelda: Forgotten Goddess

by N Felts

after contemplating a moment herself. The dark muck coating the ground beneath Rift’s feet begins to boil as he begins to hop from foot to foot in order to keep them from cooking along with it. Struggling to line up a shot, the boy fails to notice the monster has slowly approached for another attempt to consume him.

  “Now!” He shouts, dropping through the floor just as the revolting creature begins to suck him in. Falling through the ceiling, he winds up a punch, but swings short as the torrent of air begins to pull him back up through the portal. Now tumbling weightlessly he palms the approaching ceiling to right himself while the creature’s lips have all but seized hold of the boy’s head.

  “I can’t close it until you’re through,” Mai points out, appearing below him. “Here!” She calls, grabbing hold of his ankle and adding her strength. Beginning to shake from the effort, the monster’s suction finally relents. Utilizing Rift’s body like a hammer, Mai slams him downward, his fist hitting the blob with incredible force. A single ripple quakes through the monstrosity’s body before it collapses onto the ground with the boy on top of it. Gradually turning to liquid itself, the deteriorating flesh reveals the lost greaves, slowly seeping through the muck and muscle. Delighted to have them back, Rift straps the boots back on hurriedly, and returns to his quest a bit more cautiously. Only two more dead ends delay the boy’s progress before he finds a large chamber with a chest residing at the center.

  “Finally,” he breathes, catching his breath before moving over to claim his prize. The muck coating his body has quickly dried, but remains incredibly unpleasant, causing his limbs to stick to his grotesque clothing. “Can we go back to the water temple after this?” He whines, slouching uncomfortably as he reaches the chest. Throwing the lid back reveals a thin, ghostly-blue tunic of a material Rift has never seen before. After pulling the outfit from the chest and letting it unfurl, he sees the tunic is just his size, and best of all, has a dim, blue hood attached. Gladly stripping off his filthy shirt and cowl, the boy is careful not to remove the necklace given to him by the patriarch as he dons the light-as-air tunic. A simple, black belt secures the cloth about his waist, the shirt dangling just above his knees over his baggy, black pants.

  “Perfect!” Mai declares, appearing before him once again. “With this tunic you can move much faster.” Stepping closer she reaches past his ears, smiling shyly as she pulls his hood over his head for him. Lingering a moment longer, she stares into the boy’s eyes, noting the growing confidence behind his consistently timid expression. Before she can utter a word, the temple shakes violently as a deep rumbling begins to steadily increase in volume beneath them. “Wouldn’t be the same without this part, right?” She nervously laughs, smiling as she pulls him back toward the maze. “I’ll guide you out. Those trick walls will start closing any minute so we can’t afford to make any mistakes,” she points out, releasing his hand and picking up the pace. “Follow me, Rift,” she beckons, breaking into a daunting sprint. Running as fast as he’s able, the boy watches her every move, passing through the first checkpoint without incident. The moment he passes over the deceptive wall, it begins to rise, urging him to hasten his escape. Rounding several more corners, he suddenly loses sight of his companion, falling back to his memory of the maze to make the right choices. Darting left at another intersection assures him he is on the right track as Mai’s billowing robe continues ahead. Desperate to close the distance, he dashes forward, dumbstruck when he flashes through the long hallway in an instant. Almost ramming into the glowing wall in front of him, he realizes just how agile he has become. The second checkpoint has already risen halfway by the time the sprinting goddess has reached it. Setting the example, she dives over the obstacle, prompting Rift to follow suit, executing a rolling handspring off the scorching ground to conserve momentum. Rounding three more corners reveals his path leading strait through the next two junctions. The final checkpoint has nearly reached the ceiling as the boy dashes forward like a bolt of lightning to close the distance. Each step blasts him forward, and he is nearly upon his goddess in no time. As Mai reaches the wall ahead of him, she simply vanishes, leaving Rift wondering how he is supposed to get past the obstacle. By the time he is close enough to jump, the gap between the rising wall and ceiling is too small to traverse. Scouring his mind for the answer, a grin steals over his face as he leaps back a step and squints through his transparent palm.

  “Now!” He shouts, dropping through the ceiling on the opposite side of the rising wall. Seconds later, the inverted guillotine crunches against the ceiling, failing to seal the boy in the death trap. After rounding the final corner, he is back at the metal door, dashing through the still-open frame and up the colossal staircase. “You could have said something,” he manages to insist between breaths, leaping up the vast climb several steps at a time.

  “I knew you’d figure it out,” Mai expresses with a confident tone. Suddenly, the entire section of the earthy stairs blasts into the air, riding a column of erupting lava all the way to the imperceptible ceiling. Slowly eroding away from the intense heat, the large chunk of earth rocketing upward is enough to frighten the thousands of bats lining the pitch black roof of the cave. “Trust me on this one,” Mai suddenly proclaims. “Jump!” She announces, taking shape just long enough to demonstrate which direction Rift should leap. Dashing off the rising chunk of earth, the boy leaps into the open air just before the flaming boulder smashes against the rocky ceiling. Only now getting a chance to see what is unfolding below, Rift’s heart sinks when he sees the formerly vast emptiness being consumed by explosions of white lava and fire. The entire horizon collapses downward, spilling into the approaching lake of molten liquid while sporadic plumes of magma throw islands of earth into the ceiling aggressively. Failing to see the coming swarm until the last second, the boy sees Mai’s strategy too late to opt out.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he declares with apprehension, bracing for the imminent impact. Landing upon the screeching flock of furry animals, Rift rolls forward and breaks into an awkward sprint as some of the bats randomly strike his chest and face. Though far from dependable, the mass of mammals provide sturdy enough footing to allow the boy to advance forward.

  “This way!” Mai calls, seeming to run out of the boy’s body to reveal his next objective. Following her without hesitation, he leaps from the dispersing mass, witnessing the twisting and weaving cylinders of keese flying in every direction in a massive panic over the chaotic white landscape below. Briefly landing upon a smaller group, Mai immediately leaps away once again, causing the boy to rush his terrible footing into a clumsy jump. Another column of flame punches into the ceiling, obliterating the group of bats he just leapt away from. Landing more harshly than before, he hits the side of the wave of animals, vainly attempting to knock away a particularly angry one scratching and biting at his face. Unable to get his footing, he topples off the group, tumbling downward toward the growing hell below. A much larger chain of winged creatures twists into his path and seems as though it will catch him, but just as quickly as it turned toward him, the mass shifts away as the boy falls toward certain death. Rapidly approaching from the destroyed underground temple at an angle, Mai soars with her arms extended before calling out to him. “Here!” She cries, tucking into a fetal position and flipping forward. Realizing what she intends to do, Rift presses his knees to his chest as Mai intercepts his descent. The couple’s feet collide as if the boy were falling into a mirror, and matching each other’s actions perfectly, Mai kicks upward as he kicks downward. Soaring back into the air Rift lands upon a particularly long colony of bats, feverishly flying against him as he runs atop the bulk of them. More columns of flame hit the ceiling with heavy crunches and explosions as the flowing surge of screeching creatures collectively twists and bends to dodge the sudden dangers.

  Finally descending the living staircase toward the portal home, Rift flashes forward in sudden, repetitive b
ursts before leaping off the panicking bridge of mammals, and falling the short distance remaining to the ground. The reverse tidal wave of earth falling into the churning ocean of lava has nearly reached him as Mai appears overhead, offering a hand. Swinging him toward the door alters his momentum enough to prevent a harsh landing, and without looking back, the boy sprints through the portal. Back inside Death Mountain, Rift promptly skids to a stop and collapses from exhaustion, heaving heavily as he strains to catch his breath. Beginning to feel faintly dizzy from exertion, the boy collapses to the ground atop the strange stone emblazoned with the Triforce. Appearing beside him, Mai rolls him over and lifts his head into her lap, softly stroking his hair until his breathing returns to normal.

  “We did it! You never cease to amaze me,” she admits with a smile, caressing his cheek while she stares down at him. Uncertain of exactly what his apathy is stemming from, Rift assumes it to be his near-death experience coupled with his vehement exhaustion that prompts his next question.

  “You hid these pieces of armor in all these temples, right?” He starts, staring blankly into her compassionate eyes. For the briefest of moments, her brow twitches before returning to normal. “Why do they always collapse when I take the armor? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I wish I could tell you,” she sighs, shaking her head as she continues to run her fingers through his dirty hair. “We’ve almost done it, though. Two more pieces and we can finally save Hyrule from my sisters. I never imagined this day would come to pass. It’s all because of you,” she concludes, her eyes suddenly shifting to some point high to her left.

  “What is it?” Rift asks, remaining in her lap as his suspicious thoughts dull and fade away.

  “It’s Link,” she sighs, adding, “he’s back.”

  “What?” The boy exclaims, springing to his feet and searching the area.

  “Hahaha!” Mai spiritedly laughs, grabbing her stomach and falling onto her side before dissipating. “Not that Link,” she points out once her giggles have subsided. Recalling the Goron who sent him in here to begin with, Rift lines up his hand with a smooth section of stone high above the massive chasm of lava. Landing behind the almost frantic patriarch, he ponders if his new ensemble will cause any suspicion as to what he did while locked in here.

  “Hey!” Link shouts, checking behind rocks along the cliff overlooking the crater. “Told him not to wander off,” he mumbles to himself, quickly growing stressed.

  “Over here!” Rift calls, approaching the patriarch and waving an arm.

  “Son of a torch slug,” he exclaims, hooking an arm around the boy’s neck and leading him back into his chambers. “Thought you fell off the cliff or something. You alright?”

  “Fine, fine,” the boy assures, waving a dismissive hand, and removing the necklace while Link rolls the stone door back into place.

  “Don’t look so good,” the Goron retorts, looking him over briefly before returning the necklace to its proper place. “Should have known better. Old trinket can’t protect someone so puny for long.”

  “You really helped me out, though,” Rift admits, sounding especially sincere despite the unintentional insult.

  “Forget it,” Link sighs, shaking his head and taking a seat. “Know what it’s like to be on the run. Remind me of myself when I was your age. Fugitive. On the run with no place to call home.”

  “What were you running from?” The boy asks, genuinely curious. “If you don’t mind my asking,” he adds, realizing he is prying.

  “A coup,” he recalls, closing his eyes as the painful memory returns. “Father used to be the big cheese around here. Gor Coron appeared one day with that hot-head, Darbus. Played nice with my father, but I never trusted him. Turned my father’s tribe against him. Mocked his love of song and dance, and blamed him for Ganon’s treachery. Said Ganon wouldn’t dare attack unless someone so weak were patriarch. Guards took him, but when they came for me,” he explains, the distant anger beginning to swell in his tone.

  “You ran,” Rift interrupts, understanding the Goron’s feelings completely.

  “Trained with another tribe far to the north. Taught me a new style of fighting. Trained for many years. Came back to claim my birthright,” he expresses, confiding his story in the boy for unknown reasons. He sees much of himself in the puny human, a potential for greatness should he manage to realize it.

  “Your father would be proud,” Rift grins, quickly growing saddened wondering what his own father would think of him.

  “Men make war and sorrow,” the patriarch sighs, reflecting on his past as well as the coming days. “Rise above your leaders and make your own way. Life is long, but time is short,” he concludes, rising to his feet. Perplexed by his last statement, Rift stands as well, sensing it is time for him to go.

  “Thank you again. For everything,” he offers, bowing slightly as he has no idea how their race shows respect.

  “No,” Link stoically interjects, raising a palm. “Never return to our city,” he states bluntly, painting a confused look on the boy’s face. “Distancing ourselves from the throne. Must rely on our own strength. No more alliances with Humans or Hylians. All will be turned away. Must be this way,” he concludes, his tone conveying he has nothing personal against Rift, but still remains determined to carry out his own plans. “Hard life in the north. If you must run, run south.”

  “I understand,” the boy nods, staring at the patriarch a moment longer before turning to leave Goron City forever.

  Bid for Power:

  My Fate Has Grander Endings

  Never having been a fan of any province but his own, Ganondorf dislikes the Faron Province more than any other. Dismounting his trusty steed at the forest entrance, the king of thieves sets a casual pace through the densely shrouded area. The long awaited rain has come to the woods at last, and despite the Gerudo’s apathy toward weather conditions, he would certainly prefer not the venture through the muddy slosh of rejuvenated grass. The extraordinarily irritating buzz of insects seems to gradually fade away as he ventures deeper into the disorienting forest. Recognizing a Deku Baba when he sees it, the plant remains inert, even shying away slightly as the demonic presence of the warlock demands respect from the feeble creature while he passes. All things considered, his plans and preparations could not possibly be proceeding more perfectly. Distracting his fellow Triforce fragment possessors with the Bulbin siege bought him just enough time to acquire the Fire Medallion. The success or failure of the attack was never of any consequence to him. Merely attempting to pass through Kakariko, he sensed a presence in the darkness below the ancient well in the center of town. Not presumptuous enough to assume his perception was operating at a new high, he attributes the cornering and defeat of the sage of shadow to Din’s ever present influence upon him. Though he turned his back on her on Death Mountain, the goddess has refused to relent. Her tender hooks deeply embedded in his malignant ego, always reeling him back into her arms at infinitesimal increments.

  The long since abandoned Kokiri Village does not serve to frustrate so much as it drives pins of motivation between the Gerudo king’s bones, assimilating an angry sort of determination as he ascends to the entrance of the Lost Woods. Four medallions acquired. A far better ratio than he had expected at this stage in the game. To Din’s dismay, the thought pacifies his vibrating nerves for the time being. He has never considered the allowance of his rage to manifest an act of submission until now. The deity demands it of him, not through words or gestures, but through the seduction of his desire for power. The virtually identical intersections spreading through the Lost Woods do what they can to reinstate Ganondorf’s suppressed anxiety. The forest has grown impossibly quiet, the bulk of the insects and creatures fleeing in fear of the Gerudo’s intentions. Even the happy melody, dancing between the trees upon puffs of air escaping a flute, dies down to nothing. With only the faint breeze and drumming of water upon treetop
s to guide him, the warlock continues forward, taking paths essentially at random. The day drags on slowly, and after an unknown period of time spent wandering, he emerges in the valley of Old Kokiri Village, bewildered and angry.

  A more powerful tug pulls his spirit closer to the blazing orb, and in the blink of an eye Ganondorf is back within the depths of his mind. The towers of fire have surrounded him, the all-encompassing inferno crawling closer and closer with every passing moment. Turning to face his goddess, the Gerudo sees she still waits with her arms extended toward him. A voluntary step closer is rewarded by her features becoming discernible. The veil of flame seems to part slightly, as if to show him there is only a future in her arms. The woman stands as tall as he, and with her wild mane of vivid, red hair spiraling into an elegant mess of a ponytail, she appears much taller. Her full, crimson lips frown at her chosen’s reluctance beneath her feral eyes, locked in a patient stare, but still commanding submission effortlessly. Her voluptuous form seizes hold of her prey’s baser needs, and large, golden hoops dangle weightlessly around her wrists. Concealed sparingly beneath an unsymmetrical, warlords garb, her ensemble is a pristine white and revealing in all the right places. His rational thoughts leaving him for the moment, Ganondorf succumbs to the temptation and ventures another step closer. The goddess’s pleasure is revealed through the subtle act of her stern visage lessening ever so slightly. The king of thieves’ eyelid completes its descent and subsequent ascent, and the fraction of an instant has passed.

  Still standing at the entrance to the Lost Woods, his appearance has changed once again. The pig-like image distorting his face even more so than before, he charges back into the maze of wood and moss with purpose. The smells of the forest are sifted through like trash concealing a buried treasure. Moving from clearing to clearing with a primal sort of haste, he has finally locked onto the scent of a child in the distance. The winding path leading through the hollowed trunks and thick foliage is revealed as if the answer should have been obvious, and finally, Ganondorf emerges into the sacred meadow the Kokiri now call home. Sprinting to the nearest hiding place, a child dressed radically different than the rest of the green-garbed children disappears from