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Hyrule was lost in a darkened haze, malice and ash soaking up the water. Towns fell and Hylians fled. The Yiga’s laughter echoed in the harsh winds as they attacked the Hylians that fled their homes. The roads were filled with blood, matching the crimson moon and deep red sky. Grass burned and died.
Impa was powerless through all of it. She could not be at her Princess’ side and could only hope. So she prayed, to Hylia and the three Golden Goddesses.
The world exploded around her, but eventually the fires stopped and the sky was blue. A shock of magic passed throughout all of Hyrule, a golden glisten to it. The screams of Hylians stopped, the divine beasts stopped roaring and for just a moment there was hope.
It was gone faster than it appeared, and the sky turned red once again.
Two Sheikah appeared carrying a lifeless body. Upon closer inspection it was Link, bloodied up and hurt badly. He had a weak pulse.
“Lady Impa, the princess has requested that Link be put in the Shrine of Resurrection.”
Impa couldn’t help the tremble in her voice and the slight shake in her hands. “Get Purah and have her go to the Great Plateau.”
Impa took Link in her hands and watched the two Sheikah disappear. She did too, feeling the weight of Link as she used her teleportation magic. The Great Plateau was far and took a lot of energy, but she could not rest. The wind beat against her hair and Guardian stalkers roamed the Plateau, destroying the Temple of Time and other structures. She gazed out from the edge of the Plateau, looking at the destruction. All she had was a second before she heard the sound of a guardian targeting.
Impa threw herself on top of Link. Hyrule would never be free from the Calamity’s grasp without him. Better her than Link. He let out a whisper of a gasp. Her life flashed before her eyes and she shut them tight, counting the seconds before it fired straight into her. She could only imagine the blue beam that would pierce her body, leaving her to die in pain. She slipped her hat onto her back, an extra layer of protection for Link. His hair was coated in malice and his skin was turning purple, bruising.
Seconds slowed as the beats of the Guardian’s counter quickened. Impa’s body screamed at her to use the last of her energy to flee. But the fate of Hyrule rested in her hands so she stayed. She gulped and pushed all her thoughts down, because Link would do the same for anyone. The counter was almost done, she had only two seconds left to live.
She hoped the princess was alright.
The clear sounds of the beam fired and her eyes filled with tears. It would be okay. She told herself that a million times in that second. Her body shook violently as something fell on top of her.
But she wasn’t dead.
She heard a gasp and second later the sound of a guardian exploding. The weight of the thing on top of her got up.
“Impa! Are you alright?”
Purah. That was Purah.
Impa pushed herself off of the ground and turned around to be met with her sister. The two guards from before were taking apart the guardian. It was no longer lined with pink, instead completely grey. Dead.
Impa picked up Link, only then noticing the shattered wood of a shield all around them. So the laser had hit. Purah saved her.
She whispered “Thank you,” before heading off. It wasn’t far but the amount of monsters slowed them down.
The sounds of Guardian lasers would ring in their ears, but only last seconds before someone took them out with a prototype dagger. The cave was marked with dull Sheikah technology, much like the deactivated shrines. Purah climbed down the small bit of rock before Impa handed her Link.
Impa’s hands shook as she saw the way Link’s head flopped numbly. It was unbelievable to her really. She had never expected this. Any of this.
But it wasn’t the time. She took Link back and Purah ran forward. The ground was damp and even the Shrine of Resurrection the air tasted like ash. Her steps were quick, creating a faint echo. The only sound she could hear.
The back-most room had a small bed-like area and Impa placed him down. Purah was fiddling with the Sheikah Slate near the pedestal. She turned towards Impa.
Purah’s normally enthusiastic voice was laced with an exhale of sadness. “Take off his clothes, there’s a set of pants and a shirt in those chests back there. If Link wakes up to the Champion Tunic it might mess up his memory restoration process.”
Impa nearly dropped Link. “Memory restoration?”
Purah looked down at the floor, then at Link. “Yeah, he’s going to lose his memories.”
Impa didn’t know what to think. As long as he could get them back it would be okay. The princess would need someone by her side, to comfort her. Impa would always be there, but Link understood more.
She tugged the champion’s tunic off and folded it. The blood had soaked through and gleamed in crimson splotches. His undershirt was worse. She pulled off his pants and laid him down into the bed-like area.
Purah pressed some buttons to finish setting it up, but everything flashed a bright pink and the bit of malice that coated his limbs and hair began to move into the Shrine of Resurrection.
It was killing Link. His face twisted in pain, and he moved a bit, unconscious but still putting up a fight. It was over. Ganon had done it. He won. Impa dropped to her knees, eyes forming tears. Her normally slight pink cheeks were pale. She could only hear the eerie sounds of the malice taking over and her heavy breathing.
The Sheikah Slate fell to the ground, the screen splitting. Purah’s hands just fell limply to her sides, not giving the Slate a second glance. A light came from outside. A goddess-like figure stepped it in, bathed in light. It was hard to see her features under the engagement of light. She was calm and had eyes of understanding. When she got a bit closer, Impa could tell who this figure was, Princess Zelda.
Her hair flowed gently and her dress seemed to be cleaned of dirt and grime. Unless it was only the triforce hiding her ripped and muddied up dress.
She brought up a single hand, and waved it in a broad motion and the malice was forced out. The goo climbed and built on the ash of the air, trying its hardest to make its way to the bearer of the triforce. Zelda let it reach her, letting out a quiet gasp of pain every time.
She stepped over to Link and brushed her fingers onto his forehead. His fighting ceased and he relaxed, his face returning to a neutral expression. Zelda lifted a hand and gave a pitiful wave. A look of sorrow was clear as she left. She was going to face the calamity alone.
The Sheikah Slate had been repaired at some point and Purah finished the last of the set up. She placed the device in the pedestal and the bed filled with a sort of blue water. The two sisters left, each door closing as they stepped out.
The chests were right outside the first door and only reminded Impa of the bloody tunic under her arm. A dim light peeked out from the door to the outside. Morning was coming; the bloodshed and loss covered by the fog and dew. Red still tainted the sky but faded away as a glowing figure in the distance neared it.
Zelda was slowly making her way to the castle, but every so often the glimmering light of her triforce flickered out for just a moment, and a powerful red made up her figure instead. She was taking all the malice, taking all the hits.
The two guards were waiting outside, hands shaking, eyes restless. The prototype daggers were all gone, but so were all the Guardians. The Temple of Time cracked and shuddered, still crumbling apart from the damage.
It was quiet; not a bird chirped or enemy grunted. It was odd, a sort of silence that comes with the end of the world, but after everything that had just happened, Impa enjoyed the quiet. Perhaps that was what made it such a powerful silence, the noise that came before it.
It ended far too quickly as Purah began speaking, recalling the stable that was just down the road. They all agreed to stay a night at the stable, as they were far too tired to teleport to Kakariko, or start the long journey there. Getting down from the Plateau was a challenge on its own, since the entrance was flooded. The two guards had their own paragliders, but Purah did not. One of the guards offered to take her down, and Purah agreed. Impa couldn’t say Purah’s shrieks of terror weren’t funny, especially after she handled so much. Well, a fear of heights was a fear of heights and couldn’t be changed easily. Impa smiled, remembering that Purah still slept with a nightlight. She was such a child sometimes.
A clunk told Impa they had made it to the bottom, hopefully in one piece. She jumped off the ledge with ease, and had enough strength to summon her paraglider, just letting herself drift down lazely. Purah was rubbing her leg, which she must have fallen onto. She could put weight onto it though, seeing that she stood up, so it would be fine.
Impa’s paraglider disappeared with a practiced ease and she let herself fall the two feet, landing on her feet. The grass was dead, either burnt or yellow and no flowers were scattered among the trees. Damage takes time to heal, and someday this would all look normal again. Impa could only hope.
The stable was as much as a mess, bokoblins and moblins trying to attack and tear it down. The travelers and stablemaster hid inside, shaking, tears in their eyes, holding their children close. Oh. They were from one of the many villages destroyed.
A child was in a small forest beside the stable, calling for their mother, who couldn’t hear her child calling with all the noise of the monsters. A red bokoblin snuck up behind the child, whose tears clouded their vision, and their yelling made them deaf to any threats. The bokoblin raised up its bat, aiming high, and to kill.
And Impa didn’t have the energy. It was a good 40 feet away and she didn’t think she had it in her. And yet she closed her eyes and seconds later found herself next to the bokoblin, slashing it down with a strong stroke on the neck. It puffed up into purple smoke, leaving behind five rupees and some bokoblin horns.
Impa picked up the rupee and pressed it into the boy's hand, before picking him up and carrying him back to the stable. He felt heavy under her tired muscles and mind. She was straining herself and her technique, and knew it would only end in disaster. But sometimes what comes before the disaster is more important than the consequences.
The mother cried tears of joy, and offered Impa something, anything in return. Impa could only shake her head and give a half smile before rushing back out.
There were still monsters left.
Not too many at least, about 10 bokoblins and 3 moblins.
She set to absorb the symbols of the monsters, casting the spell on a few before exhausting the last of her magic. Taking in the energy felt refreshing, and she felt strong again. Her hands still shook with the promise of something bad in her wake, but that was for later.
The bokoblins were easy enough; the ones she took the energy from were already weak and went outwith a single hit. That left five of them. The guards were taking care of them, and slaying each one in a couple of minutes. Impa took on the moblins.
Bigger enemies were like a dance, but Impa was never quite a dancer. She instead spun around to the back and targeted them when they weren’t looking. The first moblin stumbled back in a pain, roaring out a deep jagged groan. Impa struck its weak point and it staggered back again, yelping as a giant frog landed atop it.
Just three more hits and the moblin was dead. Impa subconsciously picked up the ten rupees as she moved onto the next one. It was standing in water, so Impa didn’t waste time playing. She struck it with a bolt of lighting from the lightning rod and jumped over to it. Her moves were frantic. She stabbed the moblin over and over, not caring as it swung at her. She would only hiss and bite her lip.
The moblin died in the next minute.
There was one more and the clock was counting down. She unleashed a fire, burning up the forest and the moblin, striking it while it was weak. She then used ice because she didn’t have the time to wait things out.
The moblin stumbled back and she stabbed it straight in the heart-- if monsters even had hearts. It fell as she did, and her vision became spotty, her arms fell to the side, shaking and weak. She collapsed, unable to feel her legs. This had never happened before; she was out of synch with herself, the world, everything. She couldn’t tell her left from her right, and her eyes screamed, asking if they could shut, sleep.
But the princess didn’t shut her eyes when things got rough, so she didn’t. If she had she wouldn’t have been able to see the Yiga that came. Because of course, the moblins couldn’t be the end to it.
She was temporarily paralyzed, her very core cracking under the pressure of trying to heal her and replenish her will and magic. She could only lay there, helpless.
A Yiga raised a demon carver. But she had just one more thing under her sleeve. She raised her dagger up and felt the last of her energy drip out the end of it. A large barrel was summoned and smashed into the ground. She still hurt her, the impact terribly close to her legs because she couldn't control the magic. The energy the barrel absorbed was just enough to get her up. She was on a timer before the magic ran out, and worked swiftly through the Yiga, scaring them off with silent threats because she didn’t have enough time to take them all out.
Once every single one of those traitors were gone, she fell to the ground again, letting her eyes shut. She could vaguely feel someone picking her up, and placing her on a bed. There were murmurs of an exchange and then she was out. She dreamt of fire, death, and light.
--
Impa woke to the smell of surprisingly fresh air. Maybe it had all been a wicked dream. The Princess would be talking with the champions if she went to visit the castle. Unfortunately, a look at her surroundings told her that hope was in vain. She was in the stable, surrounded by a small village’s worth of people. They slept in heaps on the floor, which children playing with spare cards and jacks they had bought from the merchants.
The little boy she had saved skipped up to her, smiling merrily as he clung to his mug of hot broth a hand behind his back. He had soft hazel eyes and his shirt was a pale tan, pants a dark green.
“Miss? My mama said to thank you when you woke up. Both for the rupees and for saving me. So, uh, yeah thank you.”
Impa couldn’t help but smile back, and she sat up, wincing in pain as she used her arms to hoist herself up.
“You tell your mother it was no problem at all.” The kid’s cheerfulness was contagious and as he smiled even brighter, Impa couldn't help but smile brighter too. “What’s your name and where are you from?”
The second question cast a sorrow look in his eyes and Impa wished she hadn’t asked it. “‘Ma name’s Serin and I’m from Deya Village. It was hit pretty bad and I was sad to leave, I’ve lived there my whole life. Which is almost 8 years! What’s your name and where are you from, miss?”
“My name is Impa and I’m from Kakariko. We’re pretty lucky that the village is hidden and surrounded by mountains, so it hasn’t been hit.” Serin’s hand was still behind his back and he was rocking back and forth on his heels, looking sort of impatient.
“What’s behind your back?”
Serin beamed and held a box with a bunch of wooden dominos. “The merchant sold ‘em to us for 5 rupees! They're super fun to play with if you ever want to join a game. My little sister, Kaia, and my best friend, Nado, play with me, but the merchant says it’s better with four people.”
Impa shifted slightly, feeling a slight ache as she moved her arms. “I’d be happy to play with all of you once I’m able to move around more.”
“Of course, miss! If you need anything just give me a holler!” Serin skipped over to two children. One with stubby pigtails and a simple cotton dress, secured with a belt around her waist. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes, red and puffy, were hazel. She must have been Kaia. The other child wore clothes almost identical to Serin, albeit his pants were a dark blue, had tanner skin and rich brown eyes. He must have been Nado.
Impa waved towards the children, who excitedly waved back. Purah limped into the stable, a bowl in her hand. Her left ankle was wrapped up in a white bandage. She must have sprained it. On her side was Impa’s kodachi, cleaned and shining. Instead of her normal more complicated hairstyle her hair was completely down, only tied at the end by a simple red ribbon.
Purah handed Impa a bowl of soup, steaming hot. It was an orange color, with herbs sprinkled on top. It tasted good, not as good was the way her mother used to make it. She’d always add a bit more milk and spices than the recipe called for. Once she had even tried a pinch of Goron Spice. It was a strong and almost overpowering flavor, but Impa had to admit it tasted good.
“You know,” Impa started after swallowing her bite, “I’m surprised whoever made this was able to get all the ingredients. It’s hard to come by fortified pumpkins outside of Kakariko.”
Purah took a sip out of her mug, which was filled with broth instead of Pumpkin soup. “Yeah, the merchant that stopped here a couple days before, well, everything, visited Kakariko a week or so ago. We didn’t have many so the people that aren't doing so well, physically, are getting the hearty stuff.”
“Oh,” was Impa’s only response, but she couldn’t say that she wasn’t already feeling better. Her limbs felt stronger and her head wasn’t throbbing quite as much. She hadn’t even realized she had a headache until it had lessened. Her hands started shaking and Impa believed she could stand up. Medicine and cooking really was odd.
Impa shrugged the covers off herself, before being stopped with a menacing glare. “Oh no you don’t. You’re been awake for 2 hours, you are not getting up already.”
Impa opened her mouth to argue that she was already feeling much better, but Purah cut her off. “No means no, little sis. Look, as your big sister, it's my job to keep you safe.”
Impa raised an eyebrow as if to say that she was the one who learned the arts of Sheikah fighting.
“Sis, I—” Purah groaned and put her face into her hands, breathing deeply. When her eyes came back into view Impa saw pain, eyes that whined and a sudden movement; she saw fear. “I almost lost you twice today. If I hadn’t gotten there in time the guardian would have—”
Purah’s breathing became heavy, and tears slipped from her eyes. Impa grabbed her glasses from her sister’s head and placed them on the nightstand.
Impa wrapped her arms around Purah and they sat in a silent hug. Impa undid the ribbon in Purah’s hair subconsciously, brushing her fingers through her sister’s hair gently. The smell of ash tainted their clothes and the sense of dread loomed around them. They melted in the quiet embrace and all the troubles of the world seemed to flutter away for a few spare minutes.
Purah backed away after a few minutes. “I’m sorry, I—, it’s just that we’ve lost so much, so many, I don’t know what I’d do if we lost you too.”
Imap wiped the tears from her sister’s eyes. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. As you’ve said, ‘it won’t be easy, but we won’t let that stop us’.”
Purah smiled, eyes still puffy with tears.
It would be okay.
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