CHAPTER 47: THE SADDEST TEAR
Another two days had passed before Link received word that the Ordonians and the Twili were ready and making their final preparations for the journey home. They were traveling by the same road part of the way, so they had made the decision to depart together. The children had asked if Link would ride with them during the first half of their voyage, and their pleading eyes and smiles had been impossible to refuse.
Link was still recovering, sling suspending his immobile arm against his still wrapped chest. He had just finished dressing by the time a knock rapped against his door that morning. Link, sitting on the bed and leaning over to secure his boots, stood immediately when he realized it was Princess Zelda who entered. The chainmail under his tunic pulled at his chest, but he tolerated the weight. He had intended to simply pile it among Epona’s bundles, but Renado had advised that the extra tightness it would provide might actually prove to further reinforce his ribs and speed his recovery.
Princess Zelda had also returned to her usual appearance. Her clothes had been noticeably washed, the stain of mud and blood scrubbed but still faint against its whites. She had reequipped her armor, jewels, and crown. Her hair had been brushed and braided, and once more she looked like a princess.
She looked at Link silently for a moment, taking in his freshly bathed appearance. Green tunic weathered and stained in more than one place but somehow still majestic in color. His hat rested tightly around his ears, hair spilling from its mouth to frame his face. The bandage on his forehead had been removed, and his bangs hid most of the healing wound and its remaining bruise. A week since the battle and his cuts and bruises were finally beginning to fade.
Link’s attention, however, had been stolen by her hands, gathered before her skirt where they held a very familiar item.
The Master Sword.
The last time he had seen the legendary blade had been on Eldin field where he had thrust it deep into the bowels of Ganondorf’s evil heart. He remembered how the tyrant’s eyes had closed slowly as he remained standing in the face of Link’s triumph; the king’s final insult to the hero. With the reappearance of the sword, Link had to wonder what had happened to its fleshy sheath, but a part of him did not want to know. It was the part that wished to have the image of Ganondorf living as nothing more than a memory rather than something concrete existing within Hyrule.
Therefore, he did not ask, and Zelda did not offer.
Zelda extended her arms, presenting him with the Master Sword, the sword belonging to the legendary hero.
Link took a step toward her … then another, and the irony of it all struck him then. So long ago it was supposed to be him offering Princess Zelda the sword of Ordona as tribute, but now, it was the princess who returned his true sword with deepest respect.
“The blade of evil’s bane has once again served its part in protecting Hyrule,” Zelda was saying. “Just as you have done. You are part of its legend now.”
Link accepted the sword, and felt the rush of heat, the rush of energy, he had misplaced. Somehow, the sword reenergized him, and it was strange to think that he had truly become one of the few who had mastered the sword of myth. The reality of it seemed impossible to grasp.
“Our preparations are complete,” said Zelda. “We depart as soon as your friends are ready.”
Link nodded. “I’ll be down in a moment.”
Princess Zelda bowed before turning out the door. Link admired that about her. The way she tended to her soldiers, the way she spoke to Shad, the manners she had used even when addressing the once unsympathetic Midna … she treated everyone with respect. She was truly the princess--and soon the queen--Hyrule deserved.
Zelda had already returned the Master Sword to Link’s sheath, and he slipped it on and adjusted its weight against his back once again. It was strange how complete it made him feel. He carried the weight of the world against him, and yet, he felt light as a snowflake.
Link returned to the bedside table and took a last draught of the medicine Renado had left for him. He then lifted his bow and quiver--recovered from the battlefield--onto one shoulder and grabbed up the remainder of his gear before heading downstairs, where he saw Auru and Ashei helping up the last of the wounded Hylians. Renado stood at the back, wiping sweat from his brow as he cleared bowls and towels from the back counter, and Link had to wonder how much sleep the shaman had gotten over the past week.
By the time Auru and Ashei reached the door, the latter called back for Shad, who scuttled to gather his many books into his arms before stumbling after them. With the house quiet save for Renado, Link took the opportunity to speak with the shaman. He stepped up quietly to the counter as Renado pitched towels into a bucket.
“I never thanked you,” said Link, and the shaman suddenly looked up from his work, took in Link’s appearance. The youth was battered and tired but alive with such spirit that it stole all thought from him for a long moment.
Renado circled around the counter and sat wearily in one of the seats. He looked to Link with happiness covering every feature but his eyes. “It is I who should thank you, Link.” Renado looked away, swept in a web of memories. “You did not see this village before the monsters attacked,” he said, and when he spoke, Link realized that he had never put much thought into how empty Kakariko was. So many homes and only three villagers.
“It was always a small community, but there were nearly a hundred people living here … and there were many children.” His last words struck Link hard, knowing the dark weight they carried. “When the monsters came, I gathered who I could into the sanctuary. I realized too late that they were taking the children and killing everyone else.” Renado continued with his story, as if he were recounting some deadly sin he had committed. He told Link how he had seen the children--Kakarikan children as well as the Ordonians--and had hid Luda away, solely Luda, in the sanctuary’s cellar while he tried to save them.
“I was only able to save your friends, though, and by the time I returned to the sanctuary….” The vacant look in Renado’s eyes clarified the hard tones Link found in the shaman’s voice, the resounding pang of guilt he had detected. He had blamed himself for the deaths of everyone in the village and had carried that burden silently all this time. “My daughter had many friends in the village, and though she hides it well, she hasn’t been the same.”
A small tear trickled from Renado’s eye, the first Link had ever seen this man shed. “But the Ordonian children returned what had been taken from her. Friendship. She will miss them, I think. Colin most of all.”
Link grinned, remembering all the resilient smiles the children had worn during their time in Kakariko. Luda had seen the worst the world had to offer, but she had found friends to stave off the darkness.
Only in shadow could a torch burn brightest.
Renado finally looked to Link again, and he could see regret etched into his soul. “The days I saw you, your selflessness, I was reminded how very selfish I had been. Because of my actions, Luda was the only one to survive the massacre.”
Link was not quite sure how to respond. He had always seen Renado as a deeply altruistic man, always sacrificing his time to help and guide. To think that all this time, he had been looking to Link for the guidance the youth had always found in him. Link could see that Renado thought himself beneath forgiveness for the crimes of which he accused himself, but his story reminded Link of a boy he had known not long ago.
Himself.
In the beginning, he had acted in the same way Renado had: in the service of those closest to him. Over time, however, he had amended his goals and redeemed himself for thinking so selfishly. Renado was no different. Link knew that he could never say anything to heal the hurt or falsify his claim to guilt, but he could ease his weary heart and be the person Renado needed him to be. Link was realizing more and more that his life had become less about slaying monsters and more about mentoring by example.
“I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you,” said Link. “Countless soldiers and refugees would have died without your help. Only a selfless man would have given so many so much of himself.”
Renado’s lips thinned and he examined the young face standing alongside him. For so long it had been Renado who had reprimanded and guided Link--perhaps in another selfish attempt to atone for his sins through Link. Now, that same rebellious youth stood before him with wisdom beyond imagining. He thanked Link for his kindness, and he truly did feel the weight beginning to lift. He would act per Link’s example for the rest of his life to amend the wrongs he had committed.
They stepped out into the light of a new day together, but that is where they parted ways. Link watched as Renado made his way for the sanctuary, and as the shaman disappeared inside, Link found Epona nestled down by the spring. He whistled, the sound piercing through the air like a rooster crowing the rise of dawn. Those who heard his whistle knew that soon their hero would rise for one last journey.
He met Epona at the storefront of the rundown market, near the rear of the caravan soon leaving for Castle Town. As Link packed his belongings into bundles he situated on Epona’s back, going to and from the house to reclaim all the items he had left on his many visits, he watched the others as they made their final preparations. The general spoke to Princess Zelda at the back of the caravan. Link did not mean to eavesdrop, but he could piece together from the words drifting over that the princess had put him in charge of seeing the last of their people home … and he was uncomfortable with his princess travelling so far without him.
Near the spring, he spotted the convoy of Twili mounting the horses brought by the general two days ago. Midna walked among them, surely trying to erase their doubts in the beasts they were required to ride. After coaxing the last of her people, she turned to the head of their party and patted the mane of the black horse loaned to her. It was something Link had done several times with Epona to calm her, and he wanted to think perhaps Midna was repeating the gesture from her memory of those times.
Link had been unaware of the smile sprouting through his lips until Ilia’s voice erased it. “Talo!” she called, and Link was ready to swing into action … until he realized the boy was running away from their cart only to scurry toward the sanctuary where Renado had emerged. Link could not hear what the boy said, but the shaman smiled.
Finished with his work, Link leaned against Epona and watched as Rusl tethered a black horse to the wagon. It shuffled the dirt around with its white calves as Ilia lifted Malo into the carriage and waved for Talo to come along. Colin and Luda had already said their goodbyes, it seemed, and Beth ran up to throw her arms around the little black-haired girl. He could hear their giggles as they swore to keep in touch. Renado folded an arm before his chest and bowed in farewell. Talo mimicked his gesture and then scampered away toward the carriage before Ilia yelled at him again. Laughable as always, however, was Barnes, who strode up to the group. Link could see him begin to say something, only to stop and lower his mask to hide his embarrassment.
When Luda and Beth parted from their embrace and Zelda stepped over to mount her brown and white steed, Link knew.
It was time.
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There was no rush to arrive in the forest or desert, so the convoy of Hylians, Ordonians, and Twili rode at a steady pace. The Hylians rode at the front of the column with two taking up the rear behind Link. The Ordonian’s carriage strolled along in front of the weary hero, and ahead of them were the many Twili, who had quickly adjusted to the strides of their mounts. Nearly out of eyesight, were Midna and Zelda, who rode alongside one another at the forefront of the twilight denizens.
It was an unusual pace for Link, who had only ridden the paths of Hyrule in haste, barely giving any thought to the majestic scenery it offered. Now, as Epona carried him at a soft trot, he wondered what thoughts spun through her head. Perhaps gratitude at the easy pace. He hummed a chuckle at the thought, but truly he had come to realize just how much he had demanded of his faithful friend over the course of their journey. She had never refused him, and he found comfort in that. He patted her mane and ran his fingers through her hair as his mind carried on how a conversation with Epona might actually unfold. He snorted a laugh at how ridiculous it would be to hear Epona speak to him. Conversation like that was impossible, but then again, he did not need words to understand his oldest friend.
Link heard Talo yell something and broke away from his musings to see him pointing toward the wildlife. He realized the boy had likely only seen goats and squirrels and that sort and nothing like the small but long-legged creatures that skittered around the open fields. There were also the aggressive kargaroks that perched high in the trees, and whenever they swooped in too low toward the convoy, one of the two archers in the Hylian column would shoot it down and collect it--likely to prepare it for supper later that evening.
A smile hung on Link’s lips when he turned his attention to Colin and Ilia within the wagon. Both sat comfortably inside, but while Colin was grinning ear to ear and staring out the window, Ilia’s eyes were focused on her toes. Link drew Epona up to move closer to ask if she was all right, but before they closed the distance, he overheard the excited voices of Talo and Malo and saw the equally pompous expression over Beth’s face.
They were talking about Midna.
Link decided it was best not to advance … but he did not back down just yet either, curious. He could only make out snippets of their conversation over the creaking wheels of the carriage and the clomping steps of thirty-six horses.
“…so she didn’t look like that the whole time?” Talo was asking.
“…don’t think so … some weird creature … dark … kinda …” he heard Malo reply.
“How did Link…? I mean, we never knew…” his brother was asking.
“…pretty, though…”
“I guess….”
Link cringed at their words and what Ilia must have been thinking. He was a little embarrassed, too. The children had finally learned that Link had not traveled alone as they had thought. During Link’s recovery one of the adults must have told the story of Midna breaking the barrier around Hyrule Castle; otherwise, they would not have known of her impish body. Link felt a slight twinge of guilt at having hid Midna from his friends, but had Midna not wanted it that way? All the times she had asked to remain hidden in his shadow … it all made sense now. She had been so ashamed of her appearance and the reactions that might have ensued … like the shock and fear that had filled her castle audience.
And Ilia had not taken the news of his travel partner well in the least.
There were … unresolved things between Ilia and him, things that neither of them knew how to approach. Everything had been far simpler when Ordon had been their one and only world, when everything was certain. Link had to wonder how life would have unfolded had life just continued as normal … but his normal life had never truly felt normal. He could not be quite sure which world he belonged to now. A life in the woods, ignorant to all that transpired beyond the forests, or a life of travel, a life out from under the canopy of the trees. Did he belong with Ilia in Ordon, spending his days tending the ranch and riding out into the forest with Rusl and Colin, teaching the children how to fish and fend for themselves in the wild, telling his stories of adventure?
Perhaps he belonged in the city helping to rebuild Hyrule with the Group or even among the princess’s knights. What if the princess asked to induct him into her service after their voyage? He tried to imagine himself in a knight’s armor, a silver sheen across his torso and head, red and blue sashes and banners binding him. He remembered how uncomfortable and unfamiliar the armor Rusl had given him had made him feel and wondered if the armor of a proper knight felt just as tight and constricting.
Then a startling thought occurred. What if Midna had asked if he could join their entourage because she wanted to request that he return to the Twilight with her? He had once promised her that he would follow her anywhere. Would she ask that of him? To leave his world and follow her into the Twilight once more? With the Mirror rebuilt and forever bridging their two worlds, though, they would be able to see each other from time to time even if he did not go with her.
If he chose a life full of travel, reaching out beyond even the borders of Hyrule, it warmed his heart to know that he could return and call upon the magic of the Mirror of Twilight to see Midna, to have the ability to know without a doubt that she and her people were safe and well.
It was true that he had a lot to consider, a decision to make as to where his road would lead--or even end--after they arrived at the Arbiter’s Grounds … but his thoughts would have to be put on hold. The sky had grown darker since he had fallen into his deliberations. Ahead, a Hylian broke formation to ride back along the column and spread the word that they would soon be breaking to camp for the night.
As they continued forward, Link looked up and saw the moon beginning to take dominance over the sky, the bright crescent cradling its shadow counterpart.
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Laughter and smoke rose from the encampment. Several tents had been erected, one from the Ordonian wagon and the others taken from a cart the Hylians had fueled with provisions for their long road. At the center of their camp rose the fire which housed the burning kargaroks. As Rusl tended the soldiers’ game, another Hylian passed out bits of bread and dried vegetables. The Ordonians and Hylians sat closest to the fire, while the Twili remained at a distance. Midna had apologized for the appearance of disrespect her people had shown to their ways and attempt to include them by the fire, explaining that most Twili did not enjoy the heat of an orange flame.
The Twili kept to themselves mostly and also refused the food offered to them, making their camp under the stars and next to the small lake close by. It was not necessarily a lake as it was perhaps a pond or something in between, but its shallow waters stretched far and deep enough that a wooden bridge had been constructed. They had crossed this bridge before making camp in the southern fields of Hyrule, which meant that Link would be parting ways with the Ordonians tomorrow; they would continue on the road south while Link split off with the royal entourage to the east.
Link and Zelda had been among the first to nestle down next to the fire, Rusl and the soldiers had insisted on that. Zelda sat on a tree stump with her back to the tents as she sipped from a waterskin. Link had situated himself with Epona opposite the princess. He gratefully leaned against her strong body for support and, instead of eating his vegetables, he offered them up to her.
Once everyone had settled in, the Hylians took up seats sporadically around the fire, most sitting in close proximity to their princess but allowing the children from Ordon room to sit and lay closest to the warming fire. Colin, Ilia, and Beth sat off Link’s right and the young brothers were lying to his left, their excited conversation with two of the soldiers interrupted only when Rusl prodded them with a plate of carved meat. Their food was nearly devoured by the time Rusl had cut the rest of the birds into enough helpings to feed the surrounding group.
Colin’s mouth watered at the smell of the freshly roasted meat and bit into the wing immediately. Beth curled her nose at first, but after following Colin’s example and biting into it, she found that she quite liked kargarok meat. Ilia, though she accepted her helping with a kind thank you, merely nibbled at it as she had with the bread and vegetables. Link and Zelda were next to receive a serving, the princess having waved Rusl off moments ago in order for the children to be fed first. Zelda removed her gloves before taking the meat into her delicate fingers.
Link leaned forward to accept his plate and set it down on the ground, but before he could dig into its succulent flavors, pain suddenly stabbed his side. He sucked in a loud breath as his hand darted to gingerly cover his hidden wound. Several eyes had turned his way, each with the same unvoiced question floating in their gaze. As the pain ebbed, Link waved off their concern with a nod and returned to his meal … which had vanished.
A strange sucking and cracking sound broke into the night air, and Link turned to find his perfectly cooked bird leg dangling from Epona’s mouth. Malo and Talo giggled at the sight, and their laugh infected the entire group, rolling around the campfire until even the princess and dejected Ilia were in tears from mirth.
By the time Link had wrestled the leg free of Epona’s teeth and offered her another vegetable, Midna strolled up to their circle behind Zelda. She grinned, having seen the commotion on her way over. Link realized he was laughing, too, which hurt. Meat in hand, he clutched at his side and tried to calm his laughter, which only made the children giggle all the more. When Link looked across the campfire and saw Midna, however, all traces of his merriment immediately faded. It was strange how the sight of her now made him anxious. He could not help staring at her, though, as if drinking in everything about her would ensure she would stay with him forever.
Even though she had previously told Rusl that her people would not eat the kargarok meat, he still offered some to her in respect. Surprisingly, she accepted and sat next to Princess Zelda. Midna could sense all the eyes on her as she took her place among them and their laughter subsided. Perhaps they had all thought she would keep to herself as she had mostly done in Kakariko. She tried to ignore the stares as she picked away a string of meat and put it in her mouth.
Link watched her eat, reminded of the time she had refused the moldorm meat in the desert. He remembered imagining the way in which she might eat. Her expression was blank as she chewed, so whether she did or did not like the taste, he could not tell, leaving him to wonder once more what Twili even ate.
The others had returned to their meals and previous conversations after a few moments, and after exchanging a soft word with Zelda, the Twilight Princess unconsciously turned her gaze upon Link. Their eyes locked for that small moment and Midna’s small, knowing smile made an appearance, a smile that told Link everything he wanted--and perhaps did not wish to know. He could read reassurance in her eyes and lips, that she was happy and thankful to share this moment with him among friends instead of hiding in the shadows. But he could also see a kind of lingering sadness. It was faint and well hidden, but through their time together Link had grown accustomed to Midna’s every gesture. He did not know her exact thoughts, but the hint of distress in her gaze unsettled him.
He looked away and discovered his appetite had lost itself. He set the meat down and leaned back against Epona, offering her another vegetable.
“Link, will you tell us a story about your adventure?” piped an excited Talo.
The request startled Link. His lips parted to answer, but he could not think of what to say. He looked around and saw that all the children and a few of the Hylians passed him curious looks.
“Tell us about when you helped the Gorons,” prodded Talo.
“What about the night you brought Ilia and that Zora kid to Kakariko?” suggested Malo. “That Telma lady said you were really amazing.”
Link’s journey across Hyrule had been like something out of one of Rusl’s stories he had heard growing up in Ordon, and the way they begged and pleaded reminded him of the way he used to ask Rusl for bedtime stories.
Then Beth joined in. “Tell us how you saved Colin from the monsters!”
Link’s heart caught in his throat.
“No, I know, what about the Master Sword? Will you tell us how you found it?” countered Talo.
That night still existed as a blurry mess of images in Link’s memory. He had been driven mad by the magic of Zant, on the verge of losing his sanity. The only thing he could remember from that night was the lingering voice of Midna guiding him and the blinding, burning light that had saved his soul.
His eyes landed on Midna again as she slowly chewed another bite. She was not looking at him, perhaps lost in her own memories of the same night.
These were things Link could not bring himself to talk about. To the children, the thought of his journey was thrilling, but the memories were plagued with pain … both physical and emotional.
Rusl came to his rescue. “I think it’s time for bed.”
The children, save for Colin, met this with a barrage of complaints, which Rusl could not quiet. A voice as gentle as the breeze swam through the encampment then, rinsing away the unruly voices of the children. They looked around in search of the singing hum, which rose louder while remaining soft. Link, however, did not need to question the source, having heard it before. He looked toward Princess Zelda as she brought life to the same melody she had sung for the wounded knight in Kakariko. Now, he could hear the words, but they were alien to him and sounded very ancient.
Even with unintelligible words, the melody soothed the children as they looked to her and listened, enthralled. After a few verses, their eyes began to droop, and in another few moments, they were snoring.
Link heard a familiar giggle then and looked over at Midna. He had not heard her laugh for a long while and to hear it breathe the same melody as it had before her transformation filled him with joy. She met his gaze and he could see that the sadness in her eyes had fled for the moment.
In this moment, Midna was completely at ease with the world, truly as happy as Link had ever seen her, and it set his heart at ease with a smile.
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The Hylians and Twili had already resumed their voyage by the time the last of the children woke the next morning. While Rusl busied himself with packing away their tent, he watched as the children bade farewell to Link, who had remained behind in order to see off his friends. He would catch up with the entourage afterward, he had promised.
Ilia had chosen to help Rusl, and after she snuffed out the remainder of the fire, she sat back and watched as the children came running from Link, smiles plastered on their faces in the excitement of returning home. Beth nestled down next to Ilia as the boys ran up to Rusl to ask if they could help with anything. Silently, Ilia watched as Colin spoke with Link at the mouth of the bridge in the distance.
Link guided Epona up and along the bridge, for the royal party had backtracked across it on their road to the desert. He could still see their horde in the distance as they made their way steadily through the fields toward the mountains of the northeast. Colin kept pace alongside him and was telling Link about the wooden shield he now carried on his back and how his dad had helped him carve it back in Kakariko. It was a bit large on Colin, but Link thought perhaps he intended to keep it into his adolescent years, and by that time it would be a perfect fit.
“And what’s this?” asked Link, pointing to the stick that protruded from under the shield.
“Oh.” Suddenly, Colin was that shy boy again. He unsheathed the brittle sword with an unpracticed right hand, and Link immediately recognized it. “It’s the sword you gave Talo and Malo, but they gave it to me.” He looked up at Link, a strange sparkle in his eye. “They said I’d be braver with it. Is that true?”
Link stopped at those words and placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder as if to erase such thoughts. Here was the small boy that so long ago loathed the idea of holding a sword. Link was not sure whether to be proud or afraid, so he offered the only advice he knew for certain. “Courage doesn’t come at the edge of a sword, Colin. It comes when that’s the only thing out of reach.”
Confusion filled Colin. “Really?”
He tried to think of an example, and could only think of one situation. “Remember when you saved Beth?” asked Link, and Colin nodded. “The way I heard it, you saved her without a weapon. You don’t need a sword to do the right thing.” Link stressed these last words and hoped that Colin was as sensible as he had always thought.
Colin understood him completely, understood that Link did not discourage him from using a sword. Link had turned to his sword on countless occasions to defend the innocent, but used without reason a sword would no longer be a tool; instead, it would become the weapon. Colin grinned wildly at Link and promised, “Until you get back, my dad and I’ll keep them safe.”
Link looked back at the others, watched as Jaggle and Pergie’s boys helped Rusl with the wagon. Beth was staring out toward Castle Town, most likely daydreaming about city life. Ilia, however, had lost herself to another world of thought entirely as she moved charred stones around with a stick left over from the firewood. Even at this distance, Link could see her fighting back a tear.
He mounted Epona then, and without another word he clicked his heels and sped off across the bridge. He tossed a glance back to find Colin watching him a moment longer before turning back to the group. Link could not help remembering a time when all Colin wanted was to ride freely in the wind without a care in the world, but the world had changed him just as it had changed Link, and he could only pray this was the way Colin was supposed to be.
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When Colin turned away, he felt a sense of pride. For as long as he could remember, it had been his dad and Link protecting him and the other kids, but ever since Karkariko, he had felt a little braver with each passing day. Ilia lost and without memory had been the final piece that had shattered his life, the last shard of his childhood world to crumble in on itself. When she had been rescued only to be unable to comfort him in the way she had always done, it had planted the final seed in Colin.
He knew that it was his duty to protect them. And so he had … while Link and his father were away fighting crueler demons.
To see everyone safe and at peace again, smiling and laughing around the campfire the previous night, Colin knew that everything was finally going to be all right. He did not have to worry anymore. His dad had brought Link to them broken and barely breathing the morning after his battle with Ganondorf, and to hear the soldiers tell the story, it was a wonder Link had survived at all.
But Colin had never lost faith. Hero or not, Link would always be there to protect the innocent. He remembered the way Link had flown from his house the day Talo had ventured into the woods. The look of concern mixed with determination and skill. Colin looked back on himself and could see only a shy, scared child from what he had become and vowed to never revert to being such a helpless person, always looking to someone else for guidance and safety. Now, as Rusl’s son, he had a duty to protect the villagers of Ordon, and he would do so loyally.
Colin joined the others at the wagon when his father called to him, and instead of riding in the carriage, he let the others partake in its comfort. Colin wanted to walk the lands Link had traveled, to take the steps he had taken, to live in his fearless shoes, and it was strange how the earth seemed to quake through his sandals as it filled him to the brim with life … as if the land vibrated with the blood of the hero who had saved it.
Jaggle’s eldest son also chose to walk behind the wagon as they made their way south toward Ordon, but it was not for the same reasons. Talo was fascinated by the vastness of Hyrule Field and reveled in it while he could. In just a few short days, they would be back in Ordon, and he would have parents to answer to once more. He was enjoying his freedom, running this way, chasing a critter that way, and climbing a tree--only to get stuck and need Rusl’s help to shuffle back down. Malo even joined his brother for a little while until they came upon the boundary of Faron Woods.
Dusk began to break along the horizon by the time they reached the dense tree line, and Rusl called back to the boys. As he set a fire, the boys unpacked provisions from a crate, and as night settled in, they nestled in by the fire for a meal before bed. They slept under the stars that night, used to the calming atmosphere of the wild, open air of the forest.
As Rusl kept watch, Ilia was the last to find comfort in the starry sky. She often looked toward the western skyline, telling herself that at any moment, Link would be riding back to meet her. At long last, she restlessly fell into dreams praying for her hero’s safe return.
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The silence of night swept across the Gerudo Desert as the royal entourage passed through its shifting sands. Moonlight guided their path toward the towering peaks of the Arbiter’s Grounds ahead, and while Link kept reverting his gaze back to these beacons to ensure he did not stray from the path, he still tried not to think about where it was he guided the convoy of Twili.
To reach the end of his path, to arrive under their majesty, would mean saying farewell to Midna, and whether it was a month or a year that they would be apart, he grew increasingly wary at the thought of being separated from her. No matter how long the time apart, Link was not sure how to fill the loneliness that would surely come.
By the Hylian lieutenant’s suggestion, they had decided to traverse the desert only under the cover of night to ease the journey for the horses, and by daybreak they would erect the tents and take rest from the heat. It would take nigh on three to four days to reach the prison at that rate, leaving more time for Link’s distress to well inside him.
He tried to set his mind at ease as they rode, four of the Hylians riding close with the princesses just behind. The Twili followed their sovereign, and behind them rode the remaining Hylian knights.
Link tried to imagine the homecoming of the Ordonians, but found only faces that divided him between his loyalties. He erased their faces with musings of how Shad fared under Ashei’s instruction as they returned to the city, but Link found that he also missed the town with its cobblestone paths and hundreds of souls skittering back and forth.
No thought could quiet his worries, and he had nearly given up hope until he heard a strange hum emanating behind him. At first it filled him with dread, but when its pitch slowly alternated across low and higher pitches, he felt the weight in his heart beginning to lift. Turning his gaze around, he found the many glowing eyes of the Twili looking to the path ahead. It was then he discovered the single Twili who sang, its voice vibrating like some horned instrument, its sound carrying far and strong in the night.
In a matter of moments, other Twili voices joined the first, and their voices either echoed his melody or harmonized with it in very low octaves. Link found peace in their song, as the melody of the music took on words he could not understand. He could hear Zelda questioning the Twilight Princess, and he listened as Midna explained that her people sang a ballad long passed down through generations. It was a tale that spoke of a sole Twili loathing his existence, abhorring everything about the realm of shadows. This Twili had wished to see the light of day, a single sunrise and the shine of stars. He had ventured far to find a way into the Light Realm until one day he happened upon a woman whose red and violet eyes reflected the constant sunset. In that moment, the Twili had truly seen the beauty in the sky, that there was peace in his realm. The Twili had given up his journey to remain at her side until the end of his days … only it was she who passed first, her soul becoming nothing but a flutter of shadow. From that day on, he had never wished to feel the warmth of light; he would remain with her soul in the darkness forever until he, too, withered into ash.
Understanding the meaning behind the melody humming through him, Link’s chest swelled. He did not know if Zelda or her knights could empathize with the Twili as he did. For so long he, too, had loathed the Twilight and had only begun to find peace in its embrace when looking into the ruby eye of Midna.
===============
As Colin lounged inside the wagon, he looked through the window of the canvas and watched as the trees passed by. They had been on the road since dawn and the hours had ticked by painfully slow. Talo and Malo still snoozed, sprawled on the floor of the wagon as the gentle rocking motion lulled their dreams along. He could hear Beth and Ilia chattering as they sat on the back of the carriage, and he was happy to finally see some excitement return to Ilia. Even after her amnesia had lifted, she had seemed distraught, and he had thought perhaps it had just been her concern for Link. Yet, the pain in her eyes had not waned even after Link had recovered from his bout against the evil king.
Colin decided Ilia was simply homesick and that her smiles would return once she reunited with her father and saw the rest of Ordon finally at peace.
They passed through a dense grove of trees, and then Colin heard the trickle of water before he spotted the forest spring that told him they were nearly home. In a matter of moments, the ropes of the bridge connecting Ordona to the rest of the world floated by his window, and he ducked his head outside for a better look, taking in the grandness of the giant canyon stretching below and the enormous trees that snaked up from its depths.
He listened to the gentle creaks of the wheels as they rolled across the long bridge and could not help an ecstatic laugh when he was once again surrounded by familiar wood on the other side. His insides nearly burst during the long hour it took for them to pass by the spirit spring and then Link’s empty house. At the sight of it, he could sense Ilia’s mood shift again, and to combat the obvious loneliness she felt in Link’s absence, Colin shook Talo and Malo awake. “We’re almost there! We’re almost home!”
The brothers woke with a stir, Malo snorting to life and wiping the sleep from his eyes as Talo leapt up and joined Colin at the window. Together the three of them watched with wide, toothy smiles as Link’s house disappeared while they moved down the path into the village.
When the trees opened up, Talo and Malo were already screaming and leaping between Beth and Ilia. Malo landed on his rear and Talo rolled and hopped to his feet. Talo raced past the carriage, flailing his arms and screaming for his mother as his younger brother leisurely followed after him.
Young Talo’s screams echoed through the village, and everyone looked up from their midday chores to find the source of the commotion. Jaggle and Haunch were stooped over the pumpkin patch, cutting away the small weeds twining about their stems, and just as they spotted the carriage pulling into the village, they heard a splash as Pergie threw down her laundry and raced, shrieking, across the water to reach her sons. She caught Talo in a tight embrace just as Jaggle and Haunch threw down their tools and stepped over to the group in a daze.
Rusl pulled the horse to a stop in front of Sera and Haunch’s home at the edge of town and leapt down to meet his son as he scrambled out of the back of the carriage behind Ilia and Beth, the latter of which sprinted into her mother’s plump arms as soon as she had opened the door of her house to inquire about the ruckus. Shock quaked through the woman’s bones, filling her both with puzzlement and happiness in the same moment. All the tension that had ever been in her marriage was completely erased when the girls broke into tears and grabbed the bewildered Haunch into their arms, their cat purring and scratching at their feet.
Colin and Rusl watched the hollow expression on Ilia’s face turn into one of sudden glee when she saw her father burst forth from their house up the path. If she was still worried about Link, every doubt she had ever felt seemed erased in that one moment. Her breath caught and before she realized it, the ground blew past her as she sprinted through the village and up the path. “Father!” she screamed, and happiness filled her so completely that her eyes bled a waterfall of tears.
Smiling, Rusl and his son stepped along at a steady pace in her wake, and as they watched Ilia and Bo race toward one another, they made their way around the bend beyond the short bridge toward their house atop the hill. Rusl heard Colin laugh and watched as Ilia bounded into her father’s stubby arms. Behind them, Fado appeared in the distance, puzzled as ever but instantly hooting at the sight of his childhood friend returned.
When Rusl arrived on the porch of his house, he stopped abruptly as Colin yanked the door open and flew inside calling for his mother. The sight of the house calmed Rusl, the aged wood, its thatched roof, the smell of the emerald forest surrounding them. It all brought a smile to the blacksmith’s face. He longed to see his wife, longed to see Uli’s swelled belly and reassure himself that their unborn child was still tucked safely inside its mother’s womb.
But when Uli came to the door, a quiet, wide-eyed expression covering her countenance, another face greeted Rusl, and his heart skipped a beat.
As Uli overcame the shock of seeing her husband once more, Rusl overpowered the shock at seeing the face of a beautiful baby girl wrapped up cozily in a light red blanket. A small grin pulled at Rusl’s lips, and a tear stroked his cheek at seeing his family together once more. Uli offered their newborn to her husband, and when he took the babe into his arms he remembered the day when Colin had been born and the day he had happened upon the tiny Link.
Rusl had never been more proud, never happier, than in the moment he held his child and wife and heard the giggle of his son.
It was all thanks to Link, a loving little Hylian who had crawled, frozen and alone, into his heart so many years ago.
===============
Across the vast seas of rolling sand, the blazing sun grew dim, warped by the shifting wastes of the desert and the soft reds of the clouds hanging in the distance. Link stood apart from the convoy to stand at the crest of a mesa, looking out into the quiet and lonely orange land surrounding them. He squinted against the fiery horizon and found peace in the calm blue sky still reigning above its softening light. Soon, night would fall and they would resume their course, which they did not have long left to travel.
The prison of the Gerudo ancestors rested upon the sand in the distance; he could tell from the towering pikes of the sages that stretched toward the sky. Tall dunes and great cliffs and canyons hid the walls of the Grounds from view, but they were close, close enough that Link knew they would arrive in another night’s ride.
Link watched the wind blow particles of sand from the summit of the dunes, and they glinted in the evening light like fireflies. All the times he had traversed these wastes, he had never stopped to appreciate the rare beauty that their orange glow produced. He no longer saw a desert wasteland. Long ago, this had been the place where evil’s seed had flourished and the lands had remained barren for centuries. Even now it was home to death, home to the lingering souls who had long perished from its harsh environment and within its prison, but to produce death was not its nature. It was a place that longed for life, and its mirages were merely the desert dreaming for companionship.
Soft footsteps pushed through the sand behind him, and when he turned he saw the veiled cloak of Midna flapping around her frame. She stepped up alongside him, her bare feet sinking a little in the sand. Link said nothing as she stood next to him, afraid of the words they might have to exchange. He turned from her, and together they watched the setting sun. They had come to the precipice of the end, all the worries of their adventure far behind. Now, on their final trek together, neither knew what to say.
Midna looked toward the colossal towers in the distance as she mused over the journey she had taken with Link. Had she never met him, their worlds would have fallen into chaos, for she could have never found her courage without his guidance. On this last day with him, she had come to him to thank him. She had put it off for so long, not knowing what to say, and now … she did not know how to say what she knew in her heart was true. That she would not be the woman she was now without him at her side.
She said nothing and instead decided to bathe in his presence under the last setting sun she would see, something of which every Twili had dreamt. She wanted to spend more time in Hyrule, exploring its wonders at Link’s side, but her people needed her if she was to grant a sense of peace and order across her realm once more.
The Twilight Princess had made up her mind. She would return home.
===============
That night the convoy reached the entrance of the Arbiter’s Grounds, and the Hylian knights gazed up into its towering heights in awe. All in Hyrule could see the massive columns from a distance, the crests at their summits crowning the sky like beacons. Princess Zelda’s jaw parted as she craned her neck, drinking in the splendor of the broken place. It stood, ancient and eerie, as the wind blew against them, carrying the long forgotten cries of the departed prisoners within. As the entourage halted, though, and she dismounted her horse, she found some magic in its ruined walls. She saw the crest of her family resting above the open gateway and knew the spirit of her father would watch and protect her against any horrors within.
Princess Zelda joined Midna at the center of the group, watching as Link approached the doorway and darkness swallowed their hero. The Hylians looked to each other and nodded, reassuring each other that they could follow in the wake of the green warrior’s steps. Tentatively they ascended the stairs, and they were both relieved and rattled when a sudden light flickered to life. Link had returned to the mouth of the prison, torch in hand, staring almost blankly into their wide eyes.
“This way,” their hero beckoned, and when Link turned and began to fade into its depths, their fear was all but erased. If this young, broken man could dive into the deepest reaches of the haunted prison, so could eight of Hyrule’s finest knights. They waved back to the princesses, and entered the prison with vigilant eyes.
With Link as their escort, the Hylians, princesses, and Twili made good time through the depths of the ancient tomb. Two of the soldiers had fallen back with torches at the rear of the party, while the rest kept pace with Princess Zelda and Link. They followed their hero’s example and refused to shudder at the appearance of the long shadows crawling against the stones, and they restrained their stomachs from choking at the smell and sight of the scattered bones they passed.
As Link guided them through the dark corridors, he could feel the weight of every step, for every step closer to the Mirror Chamber was another step farther from Midna. He clung to the knowledge that their parting would not be goodbye forever. As long as the Mirror of Twilight hung at its dais, there was hope that he would see her again.
Before long, Link had reached the stairway into the coliseum above, and after pausing to collect and prepare himself, he ascended. He felt the weight of gravity intensify with every step he took and fought to keep his attention on the task instead of dwelling on the future soon to come.
Daylight poured into the shaft of the stairwell, guiding Link up into its orange-tinted radiance and out along the periphery of the coliseum. To his left he could see the sands below through every archway, and to his right a great wall encased the chamber within. Link’s breath heaved in his chest, and he thought perhaps it was the response of his wounds to his continued exertion, but there was no pain other than his uncertainty of what was to come once he passed the last stones concealing the Mirror Chamber.
When he reached the end of the path and turned into the chamber, he found the breaking dawn beaming through the eastern archways to sparkle against the crystalline surface of the Mirror. A natural chime seemed to hum constantly from its glistening designs, reverberating ever so faintly and bringing life to every stone and grain of sand within the chamber’s hollowed walls. Link sheathed his torch in a sconce and took a few steps toward its radiance before it stole his breath away.
Princess Zelda entered with her entourage of knights, and they cast their glances high and low, marveling at how such a grand structure could have ever been built and lasted so long in the tides of time. Though she had never heard Link’s tale of his audience with the sages, Zelda could feel the lasting presence of their spirits residing in the stone columns, collapsing in and radiating through the depths of the chamber. Their spirits filled her with understanding and she gasped at the wave of calm heat that rinsed through her every pore.
As the Hylians took formation in two columns of four before the dais, Midna passed between the stationary Link and Zelda. Her footfalls echoed through her heart as she walked along, struggling with every ounce of courage she had gleaned from Link to keep her chin raised high and her eyes steady. Her cloak swirled through the sand behind her as she stepped along the path the knights had created. Every step felt like her last, and she sunk her toes into the warm sand at each step as if a tree soaking up every grain of water in order to remain blooming and proud. She would miss the feel of Hyrulean dirt, the scent of their spring air, the sound of their laughter, and the heart of their spirit.
Midna lifted her skirt with a hand and felt the Hyrulean sun warm her exposed blue leg as she ascended the stone dais at the center of the chamber. She looked with a heavy heart at the colossal black slab opposite her, and in that hesitant moment, she looked into her past. It had been a long time since she had walked the streets of her realm in her true body, and she had ruled poorly in those early days. She felt such shame when remembering her proud and wise father, entrusting his only daughter, selfish and wild, with his great legacy. Back then her father’s throne had been but a fancy seat, but after it had been stolen in her blind arrogance, recovering it had been her sole priority … to make him proud at last.
And it had been Link to show her a path of true righteousness, filling her with the understanding of every virtue her father had tried so tirelessly to impress upon her.
It was time to set those teachings into motion.
She lifted a heavy hand then, and with a single touch of her fingertips, the Mirror of Twilight brimmed with life, its hum rising like the sound of a chorus. She heard the gasps of the Hylians as they watched the reflection of the Mirror pour outward, its rays bolting toward the black stone before it and etching its patterns across its featureless contours. The light coursed through the rock and brought its magical veins to life, creating the glowing white designs that spun in alternating circles.
When she looked back, she did not have to speak for the Twili to understand. Two-by-two they crept along the aisle between the Hylian soldiers, and Zelda watched from Link’s side, as they stepped up to the dais in pairs, igniting a glowing crystal path. When each couple reached the end, the magic of the Mirror shined against their bodies and gently ripped them into shards, the black stone sucking them once more into their home dimension.
It was a long procession as the twenty-three Twili disintegrated into the realm beyond, silent save for the musical rustles that sounded as each body vanished in a whirl of dust. As the last Twili stepped up to the platform, he tossed an anxious look to his princess, and Midna placed a gentle hand on his shoulder with a reassuring smile. Still uneasy but his fears rinsing away, he stepped up to the edge and departed the world of light.
Midna stood there, a silent scream echoing through her body. To follow the path of duty, to live as a ruler was required was a difficult thing, and now she understood the meaning of sacrifice, which her father had tried to teach. The needs of her people must come before any base desire she would ever have … even if it meant leaving Link. She had nearly died in saving his life and the lives of Hyrule’s princess and citizens, and she had done so to save their realms from the tyrant Ganondorf. In the end, that sacrifice had ensured peace, and now … her sacrifice this day would guarantee it lasted.
She turned back, stepping to the side of the dais, and found Link’s face in the distance. His eyes had not left her, and, with Princess Zelda at his side, he stepped through the Hylians and up the stairs to meet Midna, truly at the edge of the world.
The Twilight Princess spoke to the princess of Hyrule first. She took a deep breath, doing everything to contain the emotions that screamed to burst free. “Well … I guess it’s time we said farewell.” That word made it a little easier. Goodbye seemed so … final. “Light and shadow can’t mix, as we all know,” she said. This was something she had come to understand on that day … the day when Link had lain broken in her arms and the memory of Ganondorf had begun to wither. “But … never forget that there’s another world bound to this one.”
It was important that the light dwellers remember their pain, remember the sacrifices made, remember the Twili and the struggle they had overcome together, and the Twilight Princess was pleased to know that Princess Zelda was truly as wise as the legends surrounding her when she nodded and replied, “Shadow and light are two sides of the same coin.” said Zelda. She laced her fingers together against her skirt and knew with every strand of her being that light and darkness were forever bound. “One cannot exist without the other.”
Zelda looked to the Mirror, took in its extraordinary beauty. “I know now the reason the goddesses left the Mirror of Twilight in this world…” She touched its rim, touched the few chain links dangling from its side. “It was their design that we should meet.” Zelda closed her eyes, feeling the energy of the goddesses bound within the Mirror. “Yes…” she nodded and reopened her eyes. “That is what I believe.”
When she turned back to the Twilight Princess it was to find her head slightly bowed to the side, staring unfocused at the base of the Mirror, deep in thought. “Zelda….” She pulled her thoughts together and tried to blink away the emotions filling her gaze. Zelda’s words lit her lips with a faint smile before it shattered with the coming of her voice. “Your words are kind, and your heart is true.” She bowed her head to the princess of the light, granting her every honor she could afford. “If all in Hyrule are like you…” she pondered aloud, opening her eyes and giving the princess a smirk she had come to know all too well. “Then maybe you’ll do all right.”
It was a grin Zelda had received when this woman had been a cursed little imp who condemned the light and its princess. A smirk that had mocked her so long ago, and now it had flashed across the face of the Twilight Princess with a spark of kindness … and a reminder of where they had all begun.
The Twilight Princess gazed upon Zelda for a long moment, letting her words sink in, before she turned away. Her bare feet slapped against the stone and her anklet jingled with every step she took. The air swirled about her frame, her cloak dancing. The current passed through Zelda and her hair swayed gently in the breeze.
Link remained silent as he watched the Twilight Princess step on the magical stones that then produced the stairway to her realm. When the eyes of Midna turned on him, stared into him, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. No matter her appearance, this was his Midna, the imp, the woman, he had come to care for so completely. And for the first time since he had met her on the Eldin hilltop, she spoke to him. “Well, the princess spoke truly.” She looked between the Mirror of Twilight and Link’s hopeful face. “As long as this Mirror’s around, we could meet again….”
This was the only thing Link could have asked of Midna. He could see that she would not ask him to come with her, would not ask that he choose between his people and her realm, but she had left him with hope that she would return to see him. He did not know when, but he would cling to that hope and ride toward its horizon every day.
Midna watched as the light in Link’s sapphire eyes gleamed with her reflection, and the final barrier against her deepest feelings finally began to crack. She fought against the rush of emotion, but it caught her in its whirlwind and it was all she could do to remain standing tall and proud. Her thin, slanted eyes watered as she drunk in Link’s kind face, and she finally found the words she had been trying to say to him all this time. “Link…. Thank you.”
But that was not all she had wanted to say. Her emotions burst and a tear, sparkling and bright in the orange shadows of the morning, trickled down her cheek. It was a tear that brought to life everything she had ever feared. It carried her care for Link, her every sacrifice, her every dream and every doubt. And it burned. She had only ever been a shadow, and shadows could not cry, could feel nothing but the sour and bitter cold. She had refused to see the light as anything but brightness … but the walls she had built against its radiance had come crashing down, brick by brick, every day she had spent with Link.
Midna lifted a finger to her cheek and touched the tear that had formed there. She had never felt so many emotions at once, never felt so alive in the same moment she thought she might die from the sensations pouring through her. She stared at the tear in wonder. Was this what it felt like? To care so entirely for someone … only to be forced to say goodbye?
She closed her eyes tightly against the stirring in her heart, tried to block out everything but the memory of her time with Link.
Link had never seen Midna cry, and to see her so distraught made his breath catch. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be all right … that they would see each other again.
Midna struggled to find the words as the magic of her blood throbbed through her. “I….” She tried to tell Link, tried to tell him here at the end before she left. She did not want to say goodbye. She did not want to bid farewell. She wanted to tell him everything she felt, tell him everything she knew.
But there was no time. As her single tear began to shine brighter at the tip of her finger, she cast her hand out, and the shimmering orb floated into the air. It twinkled in the sunlight, glistening brighter than any star as it soared ever so slowly, ever so peacefully.
“See you later,” Midna finally said, and her voice rang out in a half-whisper, her throat hoarse with sorrow but coated by a smile.
It was the only thing she could say that would express every feeling she had, every memory she clung to tightly, desperately, and she knew Link would understand her full meaning.
Like a kiss blown into the wind, Link wanted to catch her tear, and he reached out to erase her grief. Midna opened her eyes just in time to see his desperate attempt reflected in her tear … as it pierced the center of the Mirror, its magic washing over its surface. In an instant … the touch of her tear produced a fracture across the glass that also cracked her heart.
When Midna had spoken her last, it had filled Link to the brim with hope, confirming every lingering doubt he had had about seeing Midna again. But when he saw the sadness in her tear and heard the cracking of the Mirror, saw the fissures splintering through its perfect surface, his breath caught and his heart shattered.
See you later, she had said, and he had witnessed her return time and again. This time, however, the words were different. Midna had not wanted to say goodbye, had wished with all her heart that her words could find some truth, but they both knew that the hope her words promised was false. Something had lain hidden in her voice, and as Link watched in horror as the glass popped with every break, he finally understood.
“Midna…” he wanted to scream, but his voice was strangled by a gasp when he turned to find that she was already in motion, running up the lustrous stairs. When she stopped at the top, she turned to Link in a whirl of motion, and he could see the desperation in her eyes, the need to see him one last time before she vanished.
Link’s window was closing, disappearing fast as the Mirror hummed to life one final time, but he could only stare, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, trying to give life to the words he so desperately wished would come.
She could see the pain in his eyes, the cruel understanding of what she had done, and she smiled at Link. It was not a smile that bade goodbye. It was one that said a final thanks, for it had been Link who had truly brought her to life.
Midna had known this day was coming since she had met Link. Back then she longed for it; today … she loathed it.
Her smile fell then and when she felt the light hit her body, she hoped it would be quick. She could not bear to see the look of shock across Link’s face and knew that those sad eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life. She could not take back what she had done. She wanted to comfort Link, wanted to see him smile one last time, but it was too late. Her body was disintegrating, falling into Twilight. Beginning with her legs, her body turned to shadowy crystals, and they reflected the light and surrounded her like a gentle snowstorm.
Slowly, painfully, she felt herself vanishing from the world of light, and her heart caught in her throat. To combat the many more tears that wished to fall, all she could do was smile in the hopes of seeing Link’s eyes sparkle her way once more.
But Link could not smile, eyes glued to her quickly disappearing figure, jaw agape in his helplessness to stop her from leaving … forever. Suddenly, he heard her voice again, and with it came the melody of the Twili, their soft ballad playing against her lips as she fell from his world. He could not comprehend the words, but somehow he knew that she had chosen a verse of homecoming … and goodbye. He could feel it course through his body and could feel the sadness in her voice as she sang of shadow and light.
For Midna, the last image of Link cut her like ice as, in an instant, he disappeared, leaving her staring blankly at the shadows that now hung in his place.
For Link, it had felt like minutes as he had watched her light fade, but it was merely seconds before the Mirror had cast its light upon her torso and eyes and driven her completely into the dimension beyond.
A tense silence hung in the air before the resounding burst of glass crackled through the air, the shards of the Mirror raining down as harmless ashes that twinkled in the light.
With Zelda at his side, Link stared blankly and wordlessly at the black, lifeless slab of stone before him, and in the corner of his eye, the rising sun gleamed through the archways. Light and dark forever bound yet so incompatible.
So began the first dawn of Link’s journey without Midna.
Link was still recovering, sling suspending his immobile arm against his still wrapped chest. He had just finished dressing by the time a knock rapped against his door that morning. Link, sitting on the bed and leaning over to secure his boots, stood immediately when he realized it was Princess Zelda who entered. The chainmail under his tunic pulled at his chest, but he tolerated the weight. He had intended to simply pile it among Epona’s bundles, but Renado had advised that the extra tightness it would provide might actually prove to further reinforce his ribs and speed his recovery.
Princess Zelda had also returned to her usual appearance. Her clothes had been noticeably washed, the stain of mud and blood scrubbed but still faint against its whites. She had reequipped her armor, jewels, and crown. Her hair had been brushed and braided, and once more she looked like a princess.
She looked at Link silently for a moment, taking in his freshly bathed appearance. Green tunic weathered and stained in more than one place but somehow still majestic in color. His hat rested tightly around his ears, hair spilling from its mouth to frame his face. The bandage on his forehead had been removed, and his bangs hid most of the healing wound and its remaining bruise. A week since the battle and his cuts and bruises were finally beginning to fade.
Link’s attention, however, had been stolen by her hands, gathered before her skirt where they held a very familiar item.
The Master Sword.
The last time he had seen the legendary blade had been on Eldin field where he had thrust it deep into the bowels of Ganondorf’s evil heart. He remembered how the tyrant’s eyes had closed slowly as he remained standing in the face of Link’s triumph; the king’s final insult to the hero. With the reappearance of the sword, Link had to wonder what had happened to its fleshy sheath, but a part of him did not want to know. It was the part that wished to have the image of Ganondorf living as nothing more than a memory rather than something concrete existing within Hyrule.
Therefore, he did not ask, and Zelda did not offer.
Zelda extended her arms, presenting him with the Master Sword, the sword belonging to the legendary hero.
Link took a step toward her … then another, and the irony of it all struck him then. So long ago it was supposed to be him offering Princess Zelda the sword of Ordona as tribute, but now, it was the princess who returned his true sword with deepest respect.
“The blade of evil’s bane has once again served its part in protecting Hyrule,” Zelda was saying. “Just as you have done. You are part of its legend now.”
Link accepted the sword, and felt the rush of heat, the rush of energy, he had misplaced. Somehow, the sword reenergized him, and it was strange to think that he had truly become one of the few who had mastered the sword of myth. The reality of it seemed impossible to grasp.
“Our preparations are complete,” said Zelda. “We depart as soon as your friends are ready.”
Link nodded. “I’ll be down in a moment.”
Princess Zelda bowed before turning out the door. Link admired that about her. The way she tended to her soldiers, the way she spoke to Shad, the manners she had used even when addressing the once unsympathetic Midna … she treated everyone with respect. She was truly the princess--and soon the queen--Hyrule deserved.
Zelda had already returned the Master Sword to Link’s sheath, and he slipped it on and adjusted its weight against his back once again. It was strange how complete it made him feel. He carried the weight of the world against him, and yet, he felt light as a snowflake.
Link returned to the bedside table and took a last draught of the medicine Renado had left for him. He then lifted his bow and quiver--recovered from the battlefield--onto one shoulder and grabbed up the remainder of his gear before heading downstairs, where he saw Auru and Ashei helping up the last of the wounded Hylians. Renado stood at the back, wiping sweat from his brow as he cleared bowls and towels from the back counter, and Link had to wonder how much sleep the shaman had gotten over the past week.
By the time Auru and Ashei reached the door, the latter called back for Shad, who scuttled to gather his many books into his arms before stumbling after them. With the house quiet save for Renado, Link took the opportunity to speak with the shaman. He stepped up quietly to the counter as Renado pitched towels into a bucket.
“I never thanked you,” said Link, and the shaman suddenly looked up from his work, took in Link’s appearance. The youth was battered and tired but alive with such spirit that it stole all thought from him for a long moment.
Renado circled around the counter and sat wearily in one of the seats. He looked to Link with happiness covering every feature but his eyes. “It is I who should thank you, Link.” Renado looked away, swept in a web of memories. “You did not see this village before the monsters attacked,” he said, and when he spoke, Link realized that he had never put much thought into how empty Kakariko was. So many homes and only three villagers.
“It was always a small community, but there were nearly a hundred people living here … and there were many children.” His last words struck Link hard, knowing the dark weight they carried. “When the monsters came, I gathered who I could into the sanctuary. I realized too late that they were taking the children and killing everyone else.” Renado continued with his story, as if he were recounting some deadly sin he had committed. He told Link how he had seen the children--Kakarikan children as well as the Ordonians--and had hid Luda away, solely Luda, in the sanctuary’s cellar while he tried to save them.
“I was only able to save your friends, though, and by the time I returned to the sanctuary….” The vacant look in Renado’s eyes clarified the hard tones Link found in the shaman’s voice, the resounding pang of guilt he had detected. He had blamed himself for the deaths of everyone in the village and had carried that burden silently all this time. “My daughter had many friends in the village, and though she hides it well, she hasn’t been the same.”
A small tear trickled from Renado’s eye, the first Link had ever seen this man shed. “But the Ordonian children returned what had been taken from her. Friendship. She will miss them, I think. Colin most of all.”
Link grinned, remembering all the resilient smiles the children had worn during their time in Kakariko. Luda had seen the worst the world had to offer, but she had found friends to stave off the darkness.
Only in shadow could a torch burn brightest.
Renado finally looked to Link again, and he could see regret etched into his soul. “The days I saw you, your selflessness, I was reminded how very selfish I had been. Because of my actions, Luda was the only one to survive the massacre.”
Link was not quite sure how to respond. He had always seen Renado as a deeply altruistic man, always sacrificing his time to help and guide. To think that all this time, he had been looking to Link for the guidance the youth had always found in him. Link could see that Renado thought himself beneath forgiveness for the crimes of which he accused himself, but his story reminded Link of a boy he had known not long ago.
Himself.
In the beginning, he had acted in the same way Renado had: in the service of those closest to him. Over time, however, he had amended his goals and redeemed himself for thinking so selfishly. Renado was no different. Link knew that he could never say anything to heal the hurt or falsify his claim to guilt, but he could ease his weary heart and be the person Renado needed him to be. Link was realizing more and more that his life had become less about slaying monsters and more about mentoring by example.
“I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you,” said Link. “Countless soldiers and refugees would have died without your help. Only a selfless man would have given so many so much of himself.”
Renado’s lips thinned and he examined the young face standing alongside him. For so long it had been Renado who had reprimanded and guided Link--perhaps in another selfish attempt to atone for his sins through Link. Now, that same rebellious youth stood before him with wisdom beyond imagining. He thanked Link for his kindness, and he truly did feel the weight beginning to lift. He would act per Link’s example for the rest of his life to amend the wrongs he had committed.
They stepped out into the light of a new day together, but that is where they parted ways. Link watched as Renado made his way for the sanctuary, and as the shaman disappeared inside, Link found Epona nestled down by the spring. He whistled, the sound piercing through the air like a rooster crowing the rise of dawn. Those who heard his whistle knew that soon their hero would rise for one last journey.
He met Epona at the storefront of the rundown market, near the rear of the caravan soon leaving for Castle Town. As Link packed his belongings into bundles he situated on Epona’s back, going to and from the house to reclaim all the items he had left on his many visits, he watched the others as they made their final preparations. The general spoke to Princess Zelda at the back of the caravan. Link did not mean to eavesdrop, but he could piece together from the words drifting over that the princess had put him in charge of seeing the last of their people home … and he was uncomfortable with his princess travelling so far without him.
Near the spring, he spotted the convoy of Twili mounting the horses brought by the general two days ago. Midna walked among them, surely trying to erase their doubts in the beasts they were required to ride. After coaxing the last of her people, she turned to the head of their party and patted the mane of the black horse loaned to her. It was something Link had done several times with Epona to calm her, and he wanted to think perhaps Midna was repeating the gesture from her memory of those times.
Link had been unaware of the smile sprouting through his lips until Ilia’s voice erased it. “Talo!” she called, and Link was ready to swing into action … until he realized the boy was running away from their cart only to scurry toward the sanctuary where Renado had emerged. Link could not hear what the boy said, but the shaman smiled.
Finished with his work, Link leaned against Epona and watched as Rusl tethered a black horse to the wagon. It shuffled the dirt around with its white calves as Ilia lifted Malo into the carriage and waved for Talo to come along. Colin and Luda had already said their goodbyes, it seemed, and Beth ran up to throw her arms around the little black-haired girl. He could hear their giggles as they swore to keep in touch. Renado folded an arm before his chest and bowed in farewell. Talo mimicked his gesture and then scampered away toward the carriage before Ilia yelled at him again. Laughable as always, however, was Barnes, who strode up to the group. Link could see him begin to say something, only to stop and lower his mask to hide his embarrassment.
When Luda and Beth parted from their embrace and Zelda stepped over to mount her brown and white steed, Link knew.
It was time.
===============
There was no rush to arrive in the forest or desert, so the convoy of Hylians, Ordonians, and Twili rode at a steady pace. The Hylians rode at the front of the column with two taking up the rear behind Link. The Ordonian’s carriage strolled along in front of the weary hero, and ahead of them were the many Twili, who had quickly adjusted to the strides of their mounts. Nearly out of eyesight, were Midna and Zelda, who rode alongside one another at the forefront of the twilight denizens.
It was an unusual pace for Link, who had only ridden the paths of Hyrule in haste, barely giving any thought to the majestic scenery it offered. Now, as Epona carried him at a soft trot, he wondered what thoughts spun through her head. Perhaps gratitude at the easy pace. He hummed a chuckle at the thought, but truly he had come to realize just how much he had demanded of his faithful friend over the course of their journey. She had never refused him, and he found comfort in that. He patted her mane and ran his fingers through her hair as his mind carried on how a conversation with Epona might actually unfold. He snorted a laugh at how ridiculous it would be to hear Epona speak to him. Conversation like that was impossible, but then again, he did not need words to understand his oldest friend.
Link heard Talo yell something and broke away from his musings to see him pointing toward the wildlife. He realized the boy had likely only seen goats and squirrels and that sort and nothing like the small but long-legged creatures that skittered around the open fields. There were also the aggressive kargaroks that perched high in the trees, and whenever they swooped in too low toward the convoy, one of the two archers in the Hylian column would shoot it down and collect it--likely to prepare it for supper later that evening.
A smile hung on Link’s lips when he turned his attention to Colin and Ilia within the wagon. Both sat comfortably inside, but while Colin was grinning ear to ear and staring out the window, Ilia’s eyes were focused on her toes. Link drew Epona up to move closer to ask if she was all right, but before they closed the distance, he overheard the excited voices of Talo and Malo and saw the equally pompous expression over Beth’s face.
They were talking about Midna.
Link decided it was best not to advance … but he did not back down just yet either, curious. He could only make out snippets of their conversation over the creaking wheels of the carriage and the clomping steps of thirty-six horses.
“…so she didn’t look like that the whole time?” Talo was asking.
“…don’t think so … some weird creature … dark … kinda …” he heard Malo reply.
“How did Link…? I mean, we never knew…” his brother was asking.
“…pretty, though…”
“I guess….”
Link cringed at their words and what Ilia must have been thinking. He was a little embarrassed, too. The children had finally learned that Link had not traveled alone as they had thought. During Link’s recovery one of the adults must have told the story of Midna breaking the barrier around Hyrule Castle; otherwise, they would not have known of her impish body. Link felt a slight twinge of guilt at having hid Midna from his friends, but had Midna not wanted it that way? All the times she had asked to remain hidden in his shadow … it all made sense now. She had been so ashamed of her appearance and the reactions that might have ensued … like the shock and fear that had filled her castle audience.
And Ilia had not taken the news of his travel partner well in the least.
There were … unresolved things between Ilia and him, things that neither of them knew how to approach. Everything had been far simpler when Ordon had been their one and only world, when everything was certain. Link had to wonder how life would have unfolded had life just continued as normal … but his normal life had never truly felt normal. He could not be quite sure which world he belonged to now. A life in the woods, ignorant to all that transpired beyond the forests, or a life of travel, a life out from under the canopy of the trees. Did he belong with Ilia in Ordon, spending his days tending the ranch and riding out into the forest with Rusl and Colin, teaching the children how to fish and fend for themselves in the wild, telling his stories of adventure?
Perhaps he belonged in the city helping to rebuild Hyrule with the Group or even among the princess’s knights. What if the princess asked to induct him into her service after their voyage? He tried to imagine himself in a knight’s armor, a silver sheen across his torso and head, red and blue sashes and banners binding him. He remembered how uncomfortable and unfamiliar the armor Rusl had given him had made him feel and wondered if the armor of a proper knight felt just as tight and constricting.
Then a startling thought occurred. What if Midna had asked if he could join their entourage because she wanted to request that he return to the Twilight with her? He had once promised her that he would follow her anywhere. Would she ask that of him? To leave his world and follow her into the Twilight once more? With the Mirror rebuilt and forever bridging their two worlds, though, they would be able to see each other from time to time even if he did not go with her.
If he chose a life full of travel, reaching out beyond even the borders of Hyrule, it warmed his heart to know that he could return and call upon the magic of the Mirror of Twilight to see Midna, to have the ability to know without a doubt that she and her people were safe and well.
It was true that he had a lot to consider, a decision to make as to where his road would lead--or even end--after they arrived at the Arbiter’s Grounds … but his thoughts would have to be put on hold. The sky had grown darker since he had fallen into his deliberations. Ahead, a Hylian broke formation to ride back along the column and spread the word that they would soon be breaking to camp for the night.
As they continued forward, Link looked up and saw the moon beginning to take dominance over the sky, the bright crescent cradling its shadow counterpart.
===============
Laughter and smoke rose from the encampment. Several tents had been erected, one from the Ordonian wagon and the others taken from a cart the Hylians had fueled with provisions for their long road. At the center of their camp rose the fire which housed the burning kargaroks. As Rusl tended the soldiers’ game, another Hylian passed out bits of bread and dried vegetables. The Ordonians and Hylians sat closest to the fire, while the Twili remained at a distance. Midna had apologized for the appearance of disrespect her people had shown to their ways and attempt to include them by the fire, explaining that most Twili did not enjoy the heat of an orange flame.
The Twili kept to themselves mostly and also refused the food offered to them, making their camp under the stars and next to the small lake close by. It was not necessarily a lake as it was perhaps a pond or something in between, but its shallow waters stretched far and deep enough that a wooden bridge had been constructed. They had crossed this bridge before making camp in the southern fields of Hyrule, which meant that Link would be parting ways with the Ordonians tomorrow; they would continue on the road south while Link split off with the royal entourage to the east.
Link and Zelda had been among the first to nestle down next to the fire, Rusl and the soldiers had insisted on that. Zelda sat on a tree stump with her back to the tents as she sipped from a waterskin. Link had situated himself with Epona opposite the princess. He gratefully leaned against her strong body for support and, instead of eating his vegetables, he offered them up to her.
Once everyone had settled in, the Hylians took up seats sporadically around the fire, most sitting in close proximity to their princess but allowing the children from Ordon room to sit and lay closest to the warming fire. Colin, Ilia, and Beth sat off Link’s right and the young brothers were lying to his left, their excited conversation with two of the soldiers interrupted only when Rusl prodded them with a plate of carved meat. Their food was nearly devoured by the time Rusl had cut the rest of the birds into enough helpings to feed the surrounding group.
Colin’s mouth watered at the smell of the freshly roasted meat and bit into the wing immediately. Beth curled her nose at first, but after following Colin’s example and biting into it, she found that she quite liked kargarok meat. Ilia, though she accepted her helping with a kind thank you, merely nibbled at it as she had with the bread and vegetables. Link and Zelda were next to receive a serving, the princess having waved Rusl off moments ago in order for the children to be fed first. Zelda removed her gloves before taking the meat into her delicate fingers.
Link leaned forward to accept his plate and set it down on the ground, but before he could dig into its succulent flavors, pain suddenly stabbed his side. He sucked in a loud breath as his hand darted to gingerly cover his hidden wound. Several eyes had turned his way, each with the same unvoiced question floating in their gaze. As the pain ebbed, Link waved off their concern with a nod and returned to his meal … which had vanished.
A strange sucking and cracking sound broke into the night air, and Link turned to find his perfectly cooked bird leg dangling from Epona’s mouth. Malo and Talo giggled at the sight, and their laugh infected the entire group, rolling around the campfire until even the princess and dejected Ilia were in tears from mirth.
By the time Link had wrestled the leg free of Epona’s teeth and offered her another vegetable, Midna strolled up to their circle behind Zelda. She grinned, having seen the commotion on her way over. Link realized he was laughing, too, which hurt. Meat in hand, he clutched at his side and tried to calm his laughter, which only made the children giggle all the more. When Link looked across the campfire and saw Midna, however, all traces of his merriment immediately faded. It was strange how the sight of her now made him anxious. He could not help staring at her, though, as if drinking in everything about her would ensure she would stay with him forever.
Even though she had previously told Rusl that her people would not eat the kargarok meat, he still offered some to her in respect. Surprisingly, she accepted and sat next to Princess Zelda. Midna could sense all the eyes on her as she took her place among them and their laughter subsided. Perhaps they had all thought she would keep to herself as she had mostly done in Kakariko. She tried to ignore the stares as she picked away a string of meat and put it in her mouth.
Link watched her eat, reminded of the time she had refused the moldorm meat in the desert. He remembered imagining the way in which she might eat. Her expression was blank as she chewed, so whether she did or did not like the taste, he could not tell, leaving him to wonder once more what Twili even ate.
The others had returned to their meals and previous conversations after a few moments, and after exchanging a soft word with Zelda, the Twilight Princess unconsciously turned her gaze upon Link. Their eyes locked for that small moment and Midna’s small, knowing smile made an appearance, a smile that told Link everything he wanted--and perhaps did not wish to know. He could read reassurance in her eyes and lips, that she was happy and thankful to share this moment with him among friends instead of hiding in the shadows. But he could also see a kind of lingering sadness. It was faint and well hidden, but through their time together Link had grown accustomed to Midna’s every gesture. He did not know her exact thoughts, but the hint of distress in her gaze unsettled him.
He looked away and discovered his appetite had lost itself. He set the meat down and leaned back against Epona, offering her another vegetable.
“Link, will you tell us a story about your adventure?” piped an excited Talo.
The request startled Link. His lips parted to answer, but he could not think of what to say. He looked around and saw that all the children and a few of the Hylians passed him curious looks.
“Tell us about when you helped the Gorons,” prodded Talo.
“What about the night you brought Ilia and that Zora kid to Kakariko?” suggested Malo. “That Telma lady said you were really amazing.”
Link’s journey across Hyrule had been like something out of one of Rusl’s stories he had heard growing up in Ordon, and the way they begged and pleaded reminded him of the way he used to ask Rusl for bedtime stories.
Then Beth joined in. “Tell us how you saved Colin from the monsters!”
Link’s heart caught in his throat.
“No, I know, what about the Master Sword? Will you tell us how you found it?” countered Talo.
That night still existed as a blurry mess of images in Link’s memory. He had been driven mad by the magic of Zant, on the verge of losing his sanity. The only thing he could remember from that night was the lingering voice of Midna guiding him and the blinding, burning light that had saved his soul.
His eyes landed on Midna again as she slowly chewed another bite. She was not looking at him, perhaps lost in her own memories of the same night.
These were things Link could not bring himself to talk about. To the children, the thought of his journey was thrilling, but the memories were plagued with pain … both physical and emotional.
Rusl came to his rescue. “I think it’s time for bed.”
The children, save for Colin, met this with a barrage of complaints, which Rusl could not quiet. A voice as gentle as the breeze swam through the encampment then, rinsing away the unruly voices of the children. They looked around in search of the singing hum, which rose louder while remaining soft. Link, however, did not need to question the source, having heard it before. He looked toward Princess Zelda as she brought life to the same melody she had sung for the wounded knight in Kakariko. Now, he could hear the words, but they were alien to him and sounded very ancient.
Even with unintelligible words, the melody soothed the children as they looked to her and listened, enthralled. After a few verses, their eyes began to droop, and in another few moments, they were snoring.
Link heard a familiar giggle then and looked over at Midna. He had not heard her laugh for a long while and to hear it breathe the same melody as it had before her transformation filled him with joy. She met his gaze and he could see that the sadness in her eyes had fled for the moment.
In this moment, Midna was completely at ease with the world, truly as happy as Link had ever seen her, and it set his heart at ease with a smile.
===============
The Hylians and Twili had already resumed their voyage by the time the last of the children woke the next morning. While Rusl busied himself with packing away their tent, he watched as the children bade farewell to Link, who had remained behind in order to see off his friends. He would catch up with the entourage afterward, he had promised.
Ilia had chosen to help Rusl, and after she snuffed out the remainder of the fire, she sat back and watched as the children came running from Link, smiles plastered on their faces in the excitement of returning home. Beth nestled down next to Ilia as the boys ran up to Rusl to ask if they could help with anything. Silently, Ilia watched as Colin spoke with Link at the mouth of the bridge in the distance.
Link guided Epona up and along the bridge, for the royal party had backtracked across it on their road to the desert. He could still see their horde in the distance as they made their way steadily through the fields toward the mountains of the northeast. Colin kept pace alongside him and was telling Link about the wooden shield he now carried on his back and how his dad had helped him carve it back in Kakariko. It was a bit large on Colin, but Link thought perhaps he intended to keep it into his adolescent years, and by that time it would be a perfect fit.
“And what’s this?” asked Link, pointing to the stick that protruded from under the shield.
“Oh.” Suddenly, Colin was that shy boy again. He unsheathed the brittle sword with an unpracticed right hand, and Link immediately recognized it. “It’s the sword you gave Talo and Malo, but they gave it to me.” He looked up at Link, a strange sparkle in his eye. “They said I’d be braver with it. Is that true?”
Link stopped at those words and placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder as if to erase such thoughts. Here was the small boy that so long ago loathed the idea of holding a sword. Link was not sure whether to be proud or afraid, so he offered the only advice he knew for certain. “Courage doesn’t come at the edge of a sword, Colin. It comes when that’s the only thing out of reach.”
Confusion filled Colin. “Really?”
He tried to think of an example, and could only think of one situation. “Remember when you saved Beth?” asked Link, and Colin nodded. “The way I heard it, you saved her without a weapon. You don’t need a sword to do the right thing.” Link stressed these last words and hoped that Colin was as sensible as he had always thought.
Colin understood him completely, understood that Link did not discourage him from using a sword. Link had turned to his sword on countless occasions to defend the innocent, but used without reason a sword would no longer be a tool; instead, it would become the weapon. Colin grinned wildly at Link and promised, “Until you get back, my dad and I’ll keep them safe.”
Link looked back at the others, watched as Jaggle and Pergie’s boys helped Rusl with the wagon. Beth was staring out toward Castle Town, most likely daydreaming about city life. Ilia, however, had lost herself to another world of thought entirely as she moved charred stones around with a stick left over from the firewood. Even at this distance, Link could see her fighting back a tear.
He mounted Epona then, and without another word he clicked his heels and sped off across the bridge. He tossed a glance back to find Colin watching him a moment longer before turning back to the group. Link could not help remembering a time when all Colin wanted was to ride freely in the wind without a care in the world, but the world had changed him just as it had changed Link, and he could only pray this was the way Colin was supposed to be.
===============
When Colin turned away, he felt a sense of pride. For as long as he could remember, it had been his dad and Link protecting him and the other kids, but ever since Karkariko, he had felt a little braver with each passing day. Ilia lost and without memory had been the final piece that had shattered his life, the last shard of his childhood world to crumble in on itself. When she had been rescued only to be unable to comfort him in the way she had always done, it had planted the final seed in Colin.
He knew that it was his duty to protect them. And so he had … while Link and his father were away fighting crueler demons.
To see everyone safe and at peace again, smiling and laughing around the campfire the previous night, Colin knew that everything was finally going to be all right. He did not have to worry anymore. His dad had brought Link to them broken and barely breathing the morning after his battle with Ganondorf, and to hear the soldiers tell the story, it was a wonder Link had survived at all.
But Colin had never lost faith. Hero or not, Link would always be there to protect the innocent. He remembered the way Link had flown from his house the day Talo had ventured into the woods. The look of concern mixed with determination and skill. Colin looked back on himself and could see only a shy, scared child from what he had become and vowed to never revert to being such a helpless person, always looking to someone else for guidance and safety. Now, as Rusl’s son, he had a duty to protect the villagers of Ordon, and he would do so loyally.
Colin joined the others at the wagon when his father called to him, and instead of riding in the carriage, he let the others partake in its comfort. Colin wanted to walk the lands Link had traveled, to take the steps he had taken, to live in his fearless shoes, and it was strange how the earth seemed to quake through his sandals as it filled him to the brim with life … as if the land vibrated with the blood of the hero who had saved it.
Jaggle’s eldest son also chose to walk behind the wagon as they made their way south toward Ordon, but it was not for the same reasons. Talo was fascinated by the vastness of Hyrule Field and reveled in it while he could. In just a few short days, they would be back in Ordon, and he would have parents to answer to once more. He was enjoying his freedom, running this way, chasing a critter that way, and climbing a tree--only to get stuck and need Rusl’s help to shuffle back down. Malo even joined his brother for a little while until they came upon the boundary of Faron Woods.
Dusk began to break along the horizon by the time they reached the dense tree line, and Rusl called back to the boys. As he set a fire, the boys unpacked provisions from a crate, and as night settled in, they nestled in by the fire for a meal before bed. They slept under the stars that night, used to the calming atmosphere of the wild, open air of the forest.
As Rusl kept watch, Ilia was the last to find comfort in the starry sky. She often looked toward the western skyline, telling herself that at any moment, Link would be riding back to meet her. At long last, she restlessly fell into dreams praying for her hero’s safe return.
===============
The silence of night swept across the Gerudo Desert as the royal entourage passed through its shifting sands. Moonlight guided their path toward the towering peaks of the Arbiter’s Grounds ahead, and while Link kept reverting his gaze back to these beacons to ensure he did not stray from the path, he still tried not to think about where it was he guided the convoy of Twili.
To reach the end of his path, to arrive under their majesty, would mean saying farewell to Midna, and whether it was a month or a year that they would be apart, he grew increasingly wary at the thought of being separated from her. No matter how long the time apart, Link was not sure how to fill the loneliness that would surely come.
By the Hylian lieutenant’s suggestion, they had decided to traverse the desert only under the cover of night to ease the journey for the horses, and by daybreak they would erect the tents and take rest from the heat. It would take nigh on three to four days to reach the prison at that rate, leaving more time for Link’s distress to well inside him.
He tried to set his mind at ease as they rode, four of the Hylians riding close with the princesses just behind. The Twili followed their sovereign, and behind them rode the remaining Hylian knights.
Link tried to imagine the homecoming of the Ordonians, but found only faces that divided him between his loyalties. He erased their faces with musings of how Shad fared under Ashei’s instruction as they returned to the city, but Link found that he also missed the town with its cobblestone paths and hundreds of souls skittering back and forth.
No thought could quiet his worries, and he had nearly given up hope until he heard a strange hum emanating behind him. At first it filled him with dread, but when its pitch slowly alternated across low and higher pitches, he felt the weight in his heart beginning to lift. Turning his gaze around, he found the many glowing eyes of the Twili looking to the path ahead. It was then he discovered the single Twili who sang, its voice vibrating like some horned instrument, its sound carrying far and strong in the night.
In a matter of moments, other Twili voices joined the first, and their voices either echoed his melody or harmonized with it in very low octaves. Link found peace in their song, as the melody of the music took on words he could not understand. He could hear Zelda questioning the Twilight Princess, and he listened as Midna explained that her people sang a ballad long passed down through generations. It was a tale that spoke of a sole Twili loathing his existence, abhorring everything about the realm of shadows. This Twili had wished to see the light of day, a single sunrise and the shine of stars. He had ventured far to find a way into the Light Realm until one day he happened upon a woman whose red and violet eyes reflected the constant sunset. In that moment, the Twili had truly seen the beauty in the sky, that there was peace in his realm. The Twili had given up his journey to remain at her side until the end of his days … only it was she who passed first, her soul becoming nothing but a flutter of shadow. From that day on, he had never wished to feel the warmth of light; he would remain with her soul in the darkness forever until he, too, withered into ash.
Understanding the meaning behind the melody humming through him, Link’s chest swelled. He did not know if Zelda or her knights could empathize with the Twili as he did. For so long he, too, had loathed the Twilight and had only begun to find peace in its embrace when looking into the ruby eye of Midna.
===============
As Colin lounged inside the wagon, he looked through the window of the canvas and watched as the trees passed by. They had been on the road since dawn and the hours had ticked by painfully slow. Talo and Malo still snoozed, sprawled on the floor of the wagon as the gentle rocking motion lulled their dreams along. He could hear Beth and Ilia chattering as they sat on the back of the carriage, and he was happy to finally see some excitement return to Ilia. Even after her amnesia had lifted, she had seemed distraught, and he had thought perhaps it had just been her concern for Link. Yet, the pain in her eyes had not waned even after Link had recovered from his bout against the evil king.
Colin decided Ilia was simply homesick and that her smiles would return once she reunited with her father and saw the rest of Ordon finally at peace.
They passed through a dense grove of trees, and then Colin heard the trickle of water before he spotted the forest spring that told him they were nearly home. In a matter of moments, the ropes of the bridge connecting Ordona to the rest of the world floated by his window, and he ducked his head outside for a better look, taking in the grandness of the giant canyon stretching below and the enormous trees that snaked up from its depths.
He listened to the gentle creaks of the wheels as they rolled across the long bridge and could not help an ecstatic laugh when he was once again surrounded by familiar wood on the other side. His insides nearly burst during the long hour it took for them to pass by the spirit spring and then Link’s empty house. At the sight of it, he could sense Ilia’s mood shift again, and to combat the obvious loneliness she felt in Link’s absence, Colin shook Talo and Malo awake. “We’re almost there! We’re almost home!”
The brothers woke with a stir, Malo snorting to life and wiping the sleep from his eyes as Talo leapt up and joined Colin at the window. Together the three of them watched with wide, toothy smiles as Link’s house disappeared while they moved down the path into the village.
When the trees opened up, Talo and Malo were already screaming and leaping between Beth and Ilia. Malo landed on his rear and Talo rolled and hopped to his feet. Talo raced past the carriage, flailing his arms and screaming for his mother as his younger brother leisurely followed after him.
Young Talo’s screams echoed through the village, and everyone looked up from their midday chores to find the source of the commotion. Jaggle and Haunch were stooped over the pumpkin patch, cutting away the small weeds twining about their stems, and just as they spotted the carriage pulling into the village, they heard a splash as Pergie threw down her laundry and raced, shrieking, across the water to reach her sons. She caught Talo in a tight embrace just as Jaggle and Haunch threw down their tools and stepped over to the group in a daze.
Rusl pulled the horse to a stop in front of Sera and Haunch’s home at the edge of town and leapt down to meet his son as he scrambled out of the back of the carriage behind Ilia and Beth, the latter of which sprinted into her mother’s plump arms as soon as she had opened the door of her house to inquire about the ruckus. Shock quaked through the woman’s bones, filling her both with puzzlement and happiness in the same moment. All the tension that had ever been in her marriage was completely erased when the girls broke into tears and grabbed the bewildered Haunch into their arms, their cat purring and scratching at their feet.
Colin and Rusl watched the hollow expression on Ilia’s face turn into one of sudden glee when she saw her father burst forth from their house up the path. If she was still worried about Link, every doubt she had ever felt seemed erased in that one moment. Her breath caught and before she realized it, the ground blew past her as she sprinted through the village and up the path. “Father!” she screamed, and happiness filled her so completely that her eyes bled a waterfall of tears.
Smiling, Rusl and his son stepped along at a steady pace in her wake, and as they watched Ilia and Bo race toward one another, they made their way around the bend beyond the short bridge toward their house atop the hill. Rusl heard Colin laugh and watched as Ilia bounded into her father’s stubby arms. Behind them, Fado appeared in the distance, puzzled as ever but instantly hooting at the sight of his childhood friend returned.
When Rusl arrived on the porch of his house, he stopped abruptly as Colin yanked the door open and flew inside calling for his mother. The sight of the house calmed Rusl, the aged wood, its thatched roof, the smell of the emerald forest surrounding them. It all brought a smile to the blacksmith’s face. He longed to see his wife, longed to see Uli’s swelled belly and reassure himself that their unborn child was still tucked safely inside its mother’s womb.
But when Uli came to the door, a quiet, wide-eyed expression covering her countenance, another face greeted Rusl, and his heart skipped a beat.
As Uli overcame the shock of seeing her husband once more, Rusl overpowered the shock at seeing the face of a beautiful baby girl wrapped up cozily in a light red blanket. A small grin pulled at Rusl’s lips, and a tear stroked his cheek at seeing his family together once more. Uli offered their newborn to her husband, and when he took the babe into his arms he remembered the day when Colin had been born and the day he had happened upon the tiny Link.
Rusl had never been more proud, never happier, than in the moment he held his child and wife and heard the giggle of his son.
It was all thanks to Link, a loving little Hylian who had crawled, frozen and alone, into his heart so many years ago.
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Across the vast seas of rolling sand, the blazing sun grew dim, warped by the shifting wastes of the desert and the soft reds of the clouds hanging in the distance. Link stood apart from the convoy to stand at the crest of a mesa, looking out into the quiet and lonely orange land surrounding them. He squinted against the fiery horizon and found peace in the calm blue sky still reigning above its softening light. Soon, night would fall and they would resume their course, which they did not have long left to travel.
The prison of the Gerudo ancestors rested upon the sand in the distance; he could tell from the towering pikes of the sages that stretched toward the sky. Tall dunes and great cliffs and canyons hid the walls of the Grounds from view, but they were close, close enough that Link knew they would arrive in another night’s ride.
Link watched the wind blow particles of sand from the summit of the dunes, and they glinted in the evening light like fireflies. All the times he had traversed these wastes, he had never stopped to appreciate the rare beauty that their orange glow produced. He no longer saw a desert wasteland. Long ago, this had been the place where evil’s seed had flourished and the lands had remained barren for centuries. Even now it was home to death, home to the lingering souls who had long perished from its harsh environment and within its prison, but to produce death was not its nature. It was a place that longed for life, and its mirages were merely the desert dreaming for companionship.
Soft footsteps pushed through the sand behind him, and when he turned he saw the veiled cloak of Midna flapping around her frame. She stepped up alongside him, her bare feet sinking a little in the sand. Link said nothing as she stood next to him, afraid of the words they might have to exchange. He turned from her, and together they watched the setting sun. They had come to the precipice of the end, all the worries of their adventure far behind. Now, on their final trek together, neither knew what to say.
Midna looked toward the colossal towers in the distance as she mused over the journey she had taken with Link. Had she never met him, their worlds would have fallen into chaos, for she could have never found her courage without his guidance. On this last day with him, she had come to him to thank him. She had put it off for so long, not knowing what to say, and now … she did not know how to say what she knew in her heart was true. That she would not be the woman she was now without him at her side.
She said nothing and instead decided to bathe in his presence under the last setting sun she would see, something of which every Twili had dreamt. She wanted to spend more time in Hyrule, exploring its wonders at Link’s side, but her people needed her if she was to grant a sense of peace and order across her realm once more.
The Twilight Princess had made up her mind. She would return home.
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That night the convoy reached the entrance of the Arbiter’s Grounds, and the Hylian knights gazed up into its towering heights in awe. All in Hyrule could see the massive columns from a distance, the crests at their summits crowning the sky like beacons. Princess Zelda’s jaw parted as she craned her neck, drinking in the splendor of the broken place. It stood, ancient and eerie, as the wind blew against them, carrying the long forgotten cries of the departed prisoners within. As the entourage halted, though, and she dismounted her horse, she found some magic in its ruined walls. She saw the crest of her family resting above the open gateway and knew the spirit of her father would watch and protect her against any horrors within.
Princess Zelda joined Midna at the center of the group, watching as Link approached the doorway and darkness swallowed their hero. The Hylians looked to each other and nodded, reassuring each other that they could follow in the wake of the green warrior’s steps. Tentatively they ascended the stairs, and they were both relieved and rattled when a sudden light flickered to life. Link had returned to the mouth of the prison, torch in hand, staring almost blankly into their wide eyes.
“This way,” their hero beckoned, and when Link turned and began to fade into its depths, their fear was all but erased. If this young, broken man could dive into the deepest reaches of the haunted prison, so could eight of Hyrule’s finest knights. They waved back to the princesses, and entered the prison with vigilant eyes.
With Link as their escort, the Hylians, princesses, and Twili made good time through the depths of the ancient tomb. Two of the soldiers had fallen back with torches at the rear of the party, while the rest kept pace with Princess Zelda and Link. They followed their hero’s example and refused to shudder at the appearance of the long shadows crawling against the stones, and they restrained their stomachs from choking at the smell and sight of the scattered bones they passed.
As Link guided them through the dark corridors, he could feel the weight of every step, for every step closer to the Mirror Chamber was another step farther from Midna. He clung to the knowledge that their parting would not be goodbye forever. As long as the Mirror of Twilight hung at its dais, there was hope that he would see her again.
Before long, Link had reached the stairway into the coliseum above, and after pausing to collect and prepare himself, he ascended. He felt the weight of gravity intensify with every step he took and fought to keep his attention on the task instead of dwelling on the future soon to come.
Daylight poured into the shaft of the stairwell, guiding Link up into its orange-tinted radiance and out along the periphery of the coliseum. To his left he could see the sands below through every archway, and to his right a great wall encased the chamber within. Link’s breath heaved in his chest, and he thought perhaps it was the response of his wounds to his continued exertion, but there was no pain other than his uncertainty of what was to come once he passed the last stones concealing the Mirror Chamber.
When he reached the end of the path and turned into the chamber, he found the breaking dawn beaming through the eastern archways to sparkle against the crystalline surface of the Mirror. A natural chime seemed to hum constantly from its glistening designs, reverberating ever so faintly and bringing life to every stone and grain of sand within the chamber’s hollowed walls. Link sheathed his torch in a sconce and took a few steps toward its radiance before it stole his breath away.
Princess Zelda entered with her entourage of knights, and they cast their glances high and low, marveling at how such a grand structure could have ever been built and lasted so long in the tides of time. Though she had never heard Link’s tale of his audience with the sages, Zelda could feel the lasting presence of their spirits residing in the stone columns, collapsing in and radiating through the depths of the chamber. Their spirits filled her with understanding and she gasped at the wave of calm heat that rinsed through her every pore.
As the Hylians took formation in two columns of four before the dais, Midna passed between the stationary Link and Zelda. Her footfalls echoed through her heart as she walked along, struggling with every ounce of courage she had gleaned from Link to keep her chin raised high and her eyes steady. Her cloak swirled through the sand behind her as she stepped along the path the knights had created. Every step felt like her last, and she sunk her toes into the warm sand at each step as if a tree soaking up every grain of water in order to remain blooming and proud. She would miss the feel of Hyrulean dirt, the scent of their spring air, the sound of their laughter, and the heart of their spirit.
Midna lifted her skirt with a hand and felt the Hyrulean sun warm her exposed blue leg as she ascended the stone dais at the center of the chamber. She looked with a heavy heart at the colossal black slab opposite her, and in that hesitant moment, she looked into her past. It had been a long time since she had walked the streets of her realm in her true body, and she had ruled poorly in those early days. She felt such shame when remembering her proud and wise father, entrusting his only daughter, selfish and wild, with his great legacy. Back then her father’s throne had been but a fancy seat, but after it had been stolen in her blind arrogance, recovering it had been her sole priority … to make him proud at last.
And it had been Link to show her a path of true righteousness, filling her with the understanding of every virtue her father had tried so tirelessly to impress upon her.
It was time to set those teachings into motion.
She lifted a heavy hand then, and with a single touch of her fingertips, the Mirror of Twilight brimmed with life, its hum rising like the sound of a chorus. She heard the gasps of the Hylians as they watched the reflection of the Mirror pour outward, its rays bolting toward the black stone before it and etching its patterns across its featureless contours. The light coursed through the rock and brought its magical veins to life, creating the glowing white designs that spun in alternating circles.
When she looked back, she did not have to speak for the Twili to understand. Two-by-two they crept along the aisle between the Hylian soldiers, and Zelda watched from Link’s side, as they stepped up to the dais in pairs, igniting a glowing crystal path. When each couple reached the end, the magic of the Mirror shined against their bodies and gently ripped them into shards, the black stone sucking them once more into their home dimension.
It was a long procession as the twenty-three Twili disintegrated into the realm beyond, silent save for the musical rustles that sounded as each body vanished in a whirl of dust. As the last Twili stepped up to the platform, he tossed an anxious look to his princess, and Midna placed a gentle hand on his shoulder with a reassuring smile. Still uneasy but his fears rinsing away, he stepped up to the edge and departed the world of light.
Midna stood there, a silent scream echoing through her body. To follow the path of duty, to live as a ruler was required was a difficult thing, and now she understood the meaning of sacrifice, which her father had tried to teach. The needs of her people must come before any base desire she would ever have … even if it meant leaving Link. She had nearly died in saving his life and the lives of Hyrule’s princess and citizens, and she had done so to save their realms from the tyrant Ganondorf. In the end, that sacrifice had ensured peace, and now … her sacrifice this day would guarantee it lasted.
She turned back, stepping to the side of the dais, and found Link’s face in the distance. His eyes had not left her, and, with Princess Zelda at his side, he stepped through the Hylians and up the stairs to meet Midna, truly at the edge of the world.
The Twilight Princess spoke to the princess of Hyrule first. She took a deep breath, doing everything to contain the emotions that screamed to burst free. “Well … I guess it’s time we said farewell.” That word made it a little easier. Goodbye seemed so … final. “Light and shadow can’t mix, as we all know,” she said. This was something she had come to understand on that day … the day when Link had lain broken in her arms and the memory of Ganondorf had begun to wither. “But … never forget that there’s another world bound to this one.”
It was important that the light dwellers remember their pain, remember the sacrifices made, remember the Twili and the struggle they had overcome together, and the Twilight Princess was pleased to know that Princess Zelda was truly as wise as the legends surrounding her when she nodded and replied, “Shadow and light are two sides of the same coin.” said Zelda. She laced her fingers together against her skirt and knew with every strand of her being that light and darkness were forever bound. “One cannot exist without the other.”
Zelda looked to the Mirror, took in its extraordinary beauty. “I know now the reason the goddesses left the Mirror of Twilight in this world…” She touched its rim, touched the few chain links dangling from its side. “It was their design that we should meet.” Zelda closed her eyes, feeling the energy of the goddesses bound within the Mirror. “Yes…” she nodded and reopened her eyes. “That is what I believe.”
When she turned back to the Twilight Princess it was to find her head slightly bowed to the side, staring unfocused at the base of the Mirror, deep in thought. “Zelda….” She pulled her thoughts together and tried to blink away the emotions filling her gaze. Zelda’s words lit her lips with a faint smile before it shattered with the coming of her voice. “Your words are kind, and your heart is true.” She bowed her head to the princess of the light, granting her every honor she could afford. “If all in Hyrule are like you…” she pondered aloud, opening her eyes and giving the princess a smirk she had come to know all too well. “Then maybe you’ll do all right.”
It was a grin Zelda had received when this woman had been a cursed little imp who condemned the light and its princess. A smirk that had mocked her so long ago, and now it had flashed across the face of the Twilight Princess with a spark of kindness … and a reminder of where they had all begun.
The Twilight Princess gazed upon Zelda for a long moment, letting her words sink in, before she turned away. Her bare feet slapped against the stone and her anklet jingled with every step she took. The air swirled about her frame, her cloak dancing. The current passed through Zelda and her hair swayed gently in the breeze.
Link remained silent as he watched the Twilight Princess step on the magical stones that then produced the stairway to her realm. When the eyes of Midna turned on him, stared into him, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. No matter her appearance, this was his Midna, the imp, the woman, he had come to care for so completely. And for the first time since he had met her on the Eldin hilltop, she spoke to him. “Well, the princess spoke truly.” She looked between the Mirror of Twilight and Link’s hopeful face. “As long as this Mirror’s around, we could meet again….”
This was the only thing Link could have asked of Midna. He could see that she would not ask him to come with her, would not ask that he choose between his people and her realm, but she had left him with hope that she would return to see him. He did not know when, but he would cling to that hope and ride toward its horizon every day.
Midna watched as the light in Link’s sapphire eyes gleamed with her reflection, and the final barrier against her deepest feelings finally began to crack. She fought against the rush of emotion, but it caught her in its whirlwind and it was all she could do to remain standing tall and proud. Her thin, slanted eyes watered as she drunk in Link’s kind face, and she finally found the words she had been trying to say to him all this time. “Link…. Thank you.”
But that was not all she had wanted to say. Her emotions burst and a tear, sparkling and bright in the orange shadows of the morning, trickled down her cheek. It was a tear that brought to life everything she had ever feared. It carried her care for Link, her every sacrifice, her every dream and every doubt. And it burned. She had only ever been a shadow, and shadows could not cry, could feel nothing but the sour and bitter cold. She had refused to see the light as anything but brightness … but the walls she had built against its radiance had come crashing down, brick by brick, every day she had spent with Link.
Midna lifted a finger to her cheek and touched the tear that had formed there. She had never felt so many emotions at once, never felt so alive in the same moment she thought she might die from the sensations pouring through her. She stared at the tear in wonder. Was this what it felt like? To care so entirely for someone … only to be forced to say goodbye?
She closed her eyes tightly against the stirring in her heart, tried to block out everything but the memory of her time with Link.
Link had never seen Midna cry, and to see her so distraught made his breath catch. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be all right … that they would see each other again.
Midna struggled to find the words as the magic of her blood throbbed through her. “I….” She tried to tell Link, tried to tell him here at the end before she left. She did not want to say goodbye. She did not want to bid farewell. She wanted to tell him everything she felt, tell him everything she knew.
But there was no time. As her single tear began to shine brighter at the tip of her finger, she cast her hand out, and the shimmering orb floated into the air. It twinkled in the sunlight, glistening brighter than any star as it soared ever so slowly, ever so peacefully.
“See you later,” Midna finally said, and her voice rang out in a half-whisper, her throat hoarse with sorrow but coated by a smile.
It was the only thing she could say that would express every feeling she had, every memory she clung to tightly, desperately, and she knew Link would understand her full meaning.
Like a kiss blown into the wind, Link wanted to catch her tear, and he reached out to erase her grief. Midna opened her eyes just in time to see his desperate attempt reflected in her tear … as it pierced the center of the Mirror, its magic washing over its surface. In an instant … the touch of her tear produced a fracture across the glass that also cracked her heart.
When Midna had spoken her last, it had filled Link to the brim with hope, confirming every lingering doubt he had had about seeing Midna again. But when he saw the sadness in her tear and heard the cracking of the Mirror, saw the fissures splintering through its perfect surface, his breath caught and his heart shattered.
See you later, she had said, and he had witnessed her return time and again. This time, however, the words were different. Midna had not wanted to say goodbye, had wished with all her heart that her words could find some truth, but they both knew that the hope her words promised was false. Something had lain hidden in her voice, and as Link watched in horror as the glass popped with every break, he finally understood.
“Midna…” he wanted to scream, but his voice was strangled by a gasp when he turned to find that she was already in motion, running up the lustrous stairs. When she stopped at the top, she turned to Link in a whirl of motion, and he could see the desperation in her eyes, the need to see him one last time before she vanished.
Link’s window was closing, disappearing fast as the Mirror hummed to life one final time, but he could only stare, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, trying to give life to the words he so desperately wished would come.
She could see the pain in his eyes, the cruel understanding of what she had done, and she smiled at Link. It was not a smile that bade goodbye. It was one that said a final thanks, for it had been Link who had truly brought her to life.
Midna had known this day was coming since she had met Link. Back then she longed for it; today … she loathed it.
Her smile fell then and when she felt the light hit her body, she hoped it would be quick. She could not bear to see the look of shock across Link’s face and knew that those sad eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life. She could not take back what she had done. She wanted to comfort Link, wanted to see him smile one last time, but it was too late. Her body was disintegrating, falling into Twilight. Beginning with her legs, her body turned to shadowy crystals, and they reflected the light and surrounded her like a gentle snowstorm.
Slowly, painfully, she felt herself vanishing from the world of light, and her heart caught in her throat. To combat the many more tears that wished to fall, all she could do was smile in the hopes of seeing Link’s eyes sparkle her way once more.
But Link could not smile, eyes glued to her quickly disappearing figure, jaw agape in his helplessness to stop her from leaving … forever. Suddenly, he heard her voice again, and with it came the melody of the Twili, their soft ballad playing against her lips as she fell from his world. He could not comprehend the words, but somehow he knew that she had chosen a verse of homecoming … and goodbye. He could feel it course through his body and could feel the sadness in her voice as she sang of shadow and light.
For Midna, the last image of Link cut her like ice as, in an instant, he disappeared, leaving her staring blankly at the shadows that now hung in his place.
For Link, it had felt like minutes as he had watched her light fade, but it was merely seconds before the Mirror had cast its light upon her torso and eyes and driven her completely into the dimension beyond.
A tense silence hung in the air before the resounding burst of glass crackled through the air, the shards of the Mirror raining down as harmless ashes that twinkled in the light.
With Zelda at his side, Link stared blankly and wordlessly at the black, lifeless slab of stone before him, and in the corner of his eye, the rising sun gleamed through the archways. Light and dark forever bound yet so incompatible.
So began the first dawn of Link’s journey without Midna.