by N Felts
he lands harshly, but non-lethally upon the intersection below. Pulling himself off the ground with a whimper, Rift spots the monster hanging from the dangling platform above. Its sword speared into the slab of stone, it futilely attempts to climb to safety until the last of the wires suspending the slab of rock give way with a rapid series of snaps. Flailing through the air, the monster descends into the pit unwillingly, and just before it meets the spider web of barbed wire, the boy turns away and shields his eyes. The deafening boom of the platform destroying half the wires, as well as the walkways below it, drowns out all other sound until it finally settles into the pit of monsters. Exhaling a sigh of relief, Rift climbs to his feet and turns to leave when the worst noise he has ever heard gradually begins to increase in volume.
“W-what,” he starts, mashing his eyes shut as the haunting ambience becomes overwhelming. “What is that!?” He manages to choke out covering his ears with his hands. Fingernails scraping across chalkboards, screaming children, and satanic bellows seem to rise up into the room as the pit below is slowly consumed by shadow. The crawling black seems to have a mind of its own, climbing up the pillar at the room’s center as the sound of dying animals and hissing skeletons becomes louder than the boy thought possible.
“Go! Now!” Mai demands, appearing just long enough to scoop the boy off the ground and shove him toward the door. Sprinting forward, he throws the door open to find the sound is outside as well, though not nearly as loud. Struggling to line up a portal, he finally manages to find a suitable spot, landing on the other side of the vast gap, and temporarily escaping the coming darkness. Racing up the tall stairs, he is home free until he reaches the peak, finding a final ghost waiting for him. Standing proudly with her arms crossed, the woman’s most striking feature is her massive ponytail of white hair waving lazily in a nonexistent breeze. Her garb is similar to the ninja inside the temple, the Sheikah symbol displayed upon her chest, but her particular outfit seems to signify a higher status of the clan. Unsure of the spirit’s intentions, Rift knows he hasn’t a moment to lose, the darkness already beginning to climb the steps toward the exit.
“You’ve no reason to trust me,” the spirit declares, speaking quickly to get her point across. “But I’ve no reason to lie to you. I’ve been watching you closely, and I know you do not travel alone. I know much of the void, and you must come to know one truth should you decide to continue along this path,” she pauses, emphasizing her final thought well. “The void is death. There is no good. There is no light. There is no hope. There is only death.” With that she whips an ethereal flash-bomb at the boy’s feet, and vanishes without a trace. Needing no encouragement from his goddess, Rift dashes to the center of the summit, leaping up through the pale, green blight upon the ceiling of the cave before the churning mass of noise and darkness can consume him. Landing upon the central pedestal amongst the sea of unlit torches, the boy expels a well-earned sigh of relief. Taking his time, he waits for his breathing to return to normal before he starts for the dim moonlight shining in from the outside.
“We made it,” Mai exclaims, appearing on her chosen’s back and hugging him spiritedly.
“I wasn’t so sure we’d come back from that one,” he admits, poking at her bare foot nervously above her intertwined ankles.
“I was,” she grins, kissing him enthusiastically on the cheek. Almost forgetting about the temple they just traversed, Rift feels a familiar glee swell in his stomach as Mai continues to serenade him with affection as they make their way out of the cove. “Something’s not right,” she breathes, suddenly uneasy.
“Not funny,” Rift retorts with a casual breath.
“I’m serious,” she fires back, following with a shush. Turning back to face the dark room, the boy feels certain he just saw a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. Hopping off of his back, Mai vanishes, determined to decipher the source of her uneasy feeling. Without warning, an explosion of flame ignites all of the torches simultaneously, illuminating the entire cave with orange light. The burst of energy subsides, and standing at the center is a blonde Sheikah. Unlike the seven he just met, this one is very much alive.
Bid for Power:
My Time Will Come for Glory
Another brief hiss escapes through Ganondorf’s clenched teeth as Aveil dresses his wound. Back in the safety of his fortress, the Gerudo king has been far from compassionate since his return. Still under Din’s influence, he finds himself unable to even converse without growing enraged, every utterance of his subjects irritating him beyond reason. Sitting shirtless on the edge of his large bed, he cares little for his queen’s affections as he stares through the open doors of the balcony. The sun is setting, and he will not waste another moment licking his wounds so long as sages yet live. Rising from the bed without a word of gratitude, he starts for the throne room.
“Will you not indulge me with your company this night, my king?” Aveil asks, her sour tone conveying she already knows the answer.
“I’ve more pressing matters to attend to,” he grumbles, marching into the throne room without looking back. Having long since grown tired of his mistress’s faces, the king of thieves only has eyes for one woman now. His goddess provides everything he will ever need, and soon he will rule over all with her at his side. Throwing open the large doors leading outside allows the harsh wind to rush in, the meek cries of protest from the scores of women only serving to agitate their king. Instantly stepping into pace, a pair of guards follow Ganondorf down the endless flights of stairs, finally reaching the prison block. The rusty metal cells suffer from thorough disrepair, but serve their purpose just the same. Lying against the wall in the corner of his cage, Linu squints at the sudden source of light as the trio enters the room. His swollen cheek requires his left eye to remain narrow, the look on his face not one of fear, but fatigue and dread. “Move him,” the Gerudo king demands, turning to leave while the guards throw the cell door open and seize the boy.
A bleak basement beneath the Gerudo bath houses serves as the interrogation room, constantly moist as the water seeps down through the stones and drips from the ceiling. The dry sand welcomes the warm water, sucking the liquid down the moment it touches the ground, but the mid-sized room still seems grimy and uncomfortable. Vainly struggling against the guards, the young scout is strapped between a pair of heavy wooden columns at the room’s center. Leather restraints are fastened to his wrists as each arm is lifted outward, leaving him in a defenseless position. A brutal knee to the gut finalizes the process, a weak grunt of pain falling from Linu’s lips as the guards leave him. Dangling between the restraints, he hangs just high enough to prevent resting on his knees, too exhausted to find the strength to stand. Simply waiting and watching, Ganondorf determines the best means of extracting information from the scout. After a moment, he walks into the low amount of torchlight carrying the boy’s Sheikah cloak with an amused smile.
“Do you wear this in jest, or have the Sheikah really lowered their standards so?” He taunts, dangling the cloth in front of Linu’s face before tossing it to the ground with distain. “I have but one question,” the Gerudo starts, crouching in front of his prisoner to look into his eyes. “Where is the sage of light hiding?” Working his tongue around to clear his throat, the scout’s parched lips offer no words as he summons what little saliva he can into his mouth. Instantly realizing he intends to spit in his face, the king of thieves fails to control his rage. Immediately seizing hold of him, Ganondorf’s large hand nearly encompasses his entire face, squeezing like a vice as he struggles to exert control over his violence, and let the boy live long enough to divulge information. Finally releasing him, the Gerudo marches away, leaning against the wall near the stairs as he gestures to someone behind the prisoner. A brief whirring sound occurs several times rhythmically and Linu instantly knows what is about to happen. The whip cracks against his back like a blade, cutting deeply into his flesh as he groans in pain. L
ooking to his captor with angry eyes, his heart sinks when the Gerudo nods, issuing the command to hit him again. The second strike is more painful than the first, the woman behind him taking her time as she twirls the whip about her head, making sure her prey knows the strike is coming. Still reclining against the wall, Ganondorf makes no attempt to approach the scout, eyeing him thoughtfully as he endures the lasting pain.
“Well?” The king of thieves asks, his gruff voice sounding far from sympathetic. Hanging in silence, the captured ninja cannot decide what to say. Though he has no idea where the sage of light might be, his captor’s ignorance to the fact is the only thing keeping him alive. A grumble of irritation from the Gerudo king causes his muscles to tighten, and right on cue, the whip begins to whir around and around. Three strikes bite into his back this time, and his endurance is gone as he whimpers helplessly at the hands of the savage woman. “You decide when this ends,” Ganondorf informs, utterly apathetic toward the boy. “Perhaps you need a moment to consider your position,” he shrugs, rising off the wall and exiting the
