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It felt as if the world was falling apart around her as she stepped out of the mist of Korok Forest to overlook the burning fields and ruins that lay before her.
Embers rising from the fires, the sky was a dark red, painted by both the destruction as well as the attacks from the Guardians she could see as red streaks shooting up into the sky. But it was silent. It was silent and had been silent for a while. Despite the thunderous rumble that filled the air around her as Zelda watched how one of the outposts collapsed under the siege of the Guardians, she did not hear any screams. Much like the dense mist had been able to offer her a moment of silence within Korok Forest, she was able to look directly ahead without hearing a single thing.
Even as it carried with it a deadly omen of what was to come, that was what gave her the strength to put one foot in front of the other and begin the slow journey towards Regencia River, following it around the bend of the land, towards the Breach of Demise. There was no need to pray for the bridge there to be intact. Demise had risen from that area, or at least, he had if the legends were to be believed; he would not allow for her to wander the land for long. Either, she would come to him, or the Malice would act as an extension of his will and find her, whether that be in the form of one of the Divine Beasts that had roared against the sky or as one of the Guardians that had been born of the pillars.
There would be no need for that though. Feeling how the grass brushed against the skin of her feet, the dew that clung to it still holding onto the last bit of cold even in the burning air, Zelda knew that. She would come to him. She would be the one to seek out the enemy, not the one who would be hunted down.
She was certain of that, and still, as she looked to her left and saw how Hyrule Castle rose up against the bleeding sky, a cloud of Malice having enveloped even the tallest towers, Zelda could feel how her resolve faltered for a moment, leaving the fear to rise to the surface. The Shrine of Resurrection was little more than a desperate hope and even then, it was all they had, inextricably connected to the chance that Link might be able to cling on to life for long enough to get there. After that, if she were to enter the castle in the hope that it would grant him enough time to recover, there would be no telling how long she would be trapped in there, if she would have enough strength to keep the calamity at bay for the time it would take before Link would awaken again.
Zelda found herself stopping from one moment to the next. Her weight still resting on one foot, still halfway through a step, she brought her hand up to her face.
The glow of the Triforce was clear even as the world burnt around her. With how brightly it glowed, Zelda would not have been surprised if it was the kind of luminosity that could be seen from worlds and eons away, promises of just enough power for her to withstand the trial that was to come hidden within it. That would have to be her hope, that she could stand in the face of evil and find enough light in the land to chase away some of the darkness. It had to be enough; the alternative was a thought she could not even bring herself to finish.
Turning her attention to the path that lay in front of her, the path she had no choice but to follow if she did not wish to see the fires around her devour the world, Zelda let her hand fall and took another step forwards. At her side, she felt the tug of the Triforce in the light that radiated from her hand, rushing through her veins as her thoughts slowly began to abate, leaving behind only the conviction she would need now.
Zelda looked out over a ruined Hyrule, ruins and devastation staring back at her, but the one who closed her eyes, granting herself a fraction of a second to find a semblance of peace in the fate she knew was waiting for her, was Hylia.
In front of her, around her, the Surface spoke of the last battle, trees having turned to ash just as deserts and barren fields were the only remains of the oceans and the meadows she had fought to protect. But her people were safe. Sent up above the barrier of the clouds, they would be safe, and, with time, the horrors of the moment around her would become but a legend to them. But still, another battle lay ahead, something she knew all too well as she looked down at the centre of the spiralling wound in the earth in front of her.
Already, Demise’s spirit was fighting to escape from the seal she had placed on him. In a point in time, he would escape; in another point in time, he had already escaped. She had brought the humans time, but Hylia needed only to close her eyes to know that it would not last. Both of them, both her and the demon king, had come from the edge of time. These millennia were nothing; to both of them, the imprisonment had already been broken.
“Your Grace, are you certain of this?”
Impa. Standing tall, with a decisive look on her face, unlike the trusted friend of the one she would one day become, and yet, close to her heart in a way Hylia did not know how to describe, she stepped over one of the stones that had been wrenched loose from its place within the walls of the Temple of Hylia to come to stand next to her. There, she waited, but Hylia saw what might have happened, her looking towards her and reaching out to bridge the gap between them, deciding to remain and try to close her eyes, try to forget the future. It was a path whose end she knew: a goddess, weakened and without the determination to act, a land left in the hands of evil.
Hylia opened her eyes. The future would not come to that, not as long as she was able to wield even the slightest amount of power. Though she was not someone chosen or destined to do more than guard that ultimate power which had lead all of them to this moment, she still possessed enough strength to know what was to come, how she had to act now if she wished to enact her plan while she still had the enlightenment needed to know which preparations she had to make.
“I am.”
Impa stood still for a moment, but then, a ghost of a smile gracing her face, she nodded. “Then this is the end, is it not? There is nothing I can say to convince you to remain here.” her voice growing weaker, Impa looked from Hylia and down at the sealing spike that was all that stood between them and the awakening of Demise. “Nor do I think I would wish to say it if I knew how to.”
There was something there, in her voice. For a moment, Hylia saw the man who had been brought out of the dungeons, the one who had stepped into the sunlight for the first time in years and sworn allegiance to the land of Hylia, in her expression. It was a picture that flickered in front of her eyes for a heartbeat, time moving around her as she saw where it had led him to. There had been nothing to do, no hope she could have attempted to cling to to save him. That, she had known long before his imprisonment, long before the first thought that would lead him down his path had ever been brought into existence by a mortal, and yet, now, as she found herself face to face with Demise, the last ones on the battlefield, those who had come from beyond time and those who would continue to exists outside of it and saw the Loftwing soar above her, its rider as determined to face his fate as destiny was to see him die alone and in pain, for once, part of her wished that she might exist under the same laws of time as he did—as he had done and as Impa would go on to do, all in the name of loyalty to a goddess to whom those millennia would be little more than a step to the right, a manoeuvre to trick a demon who could have waited for eons in the time it took him to blink.
And still, in one realm, her plan must already have been set into motion, for as Hylia reached out to place a hand on Impa’s shoulder, noting the tense lines that met her hand, how Impa was struggling to maintain the façade of the goddess’s chosen servant, part of her wished to take that pain and free all of them from its confines.
“Do not despair, Impa. You and I will surely meet again someday.”
The warrior who had been and still was willing to lay down her life for a goddess who could never truly comprehend the enormity of such an action did not cry, but Hylia still saw how Impa, the person who had been willing to look up at her rather than down at the floor as she took the oath to serve her, faltered before she was able to smile at her. “I will wait an eternity for you.”
The hero’s body was heavy when she found him, his head leant against a rock in a way that almost looked like the frozen movement of someone who was merely sleeping. The Master Sword lying on the ground, his hand still on top of it, speaking of a spirit that had given him the courage to not once let go of it before it was all over, red seeping into the green tunic, and the finality that washed over her as she found herself kneeling down to lift him up brought an end to the illusion, however. With the Triforce, she could tear him out of the grasp of death, of course she could, and perhaps that was the price she would pay for an existence beyond the influence of time: to know of all the ways it could have been avoided, all the possibilities that lay around them, sprawling and wild in the way only time could be, worlds coming into existence with every action and being left in darkness just as easily. There had to be balance to it all, that was what would separate her from the demon hordes. And yet, as she reached out to lift up his arm, as she held him tighter as he began to grow cold, Hylia was aware of how the path she could see in front of her was one that would take her to a world in which she too would be bound by time, one where she would be a mere shadow of a memory. They would both become legends, but where the spirit of the hero in her arms would live on, she would only exist as the power that came from the hidden memories of a past life, a legend of a person who no longer truly existed the way she had in the past.
She placed her hand against the blood-soaked fabric of the hero’s tunic, red against green, red against blue as the world grew larger around her, allowing Hylia to know what would come next. In her arms, Link was barely breathing, the plea for him to survive torn from a throat of a girl who both was and was not Hylia as she looked down at him. In the distance, the Master Sword lay abandoned, having been knocked out of his grip by both fatigue as well as her last attempt at buying him just enough time to flee from the fate she herself had entrusted him with.
The Master Sword was there, a few metres away from them rather than in the hand of the hero, he bore a name she had known for ages, and, as the Master Sword glowed bright against the descending darkness, the spirit she saw look down at her was one she had only meet in dreams. And yet, just as it was now and just as it would always be, the desperate plan she could feel take form in her head was one she knew she had to obey. It was one that saw her allow Link to be moved from her grasp, one that made Hylia reach out to find his spirit amongst all the others and set her plan into motion as she watched him be reborn and given the life she had wanted for him, a life she still had to wrench out of his hands to save the world. It was a plan that saw Princess Zelda rise from the ground, the white dress so unlike the depictions of a serene goddess, stained with dirt and blood, as she mirrored the movements of the goddess rising from the ground to look around her and wish that she too might have been given any outward wounds in the battle that had taken place and would continue to take place until she could bring an end to it.
It was the wish of the goddess who looked at Impa and knew that she meant every word. She truly would wait for her, and, if Hylia looked out of the eyes of the young girl who, terrified and confused, had been rescued by an old woman after having been torn away from the only world she had ever known, Hylia could see where that loyalty would bring her, the days they would spend journeying to sacred springs, first to cleanse her and bring back some of the memories of a time that had passed eons ago and a time that was still little more than sand in their hands, and then as they clung to the last hope of salvation they had left, a princess who would look up at a statue and wonder where the goddess inside her mind was.
“I know you will, Impa.” just as the stone that had been torn out of the wall of the temple had had a specific place within the construction, so too would Impa have in the grand plan. That much, Hylia knew, and as Impa looked at her, for just a moment, Hylia was certain that she could see the knowledge of that reflected in her eyes as she nodded.
Impa stood before her, the warrior and the trusted servant of the goddess, and still, for the duration of the moments that could be found between the last two heartbeats of the goddess’s chosen knight, Hylia saw the close friend she would one day find stand before her.
The blue fabric of the champion’s tunic was stained red with blood, and still, Impa accepted it with something akin to reverence in her eyes as it was handed to her, allowing for Zelda to continue on to what might be the end of their story, an imprisonment that might finally be enough to bury the past in a prison set within time. Only, it was not the garb that was the object of the smile she sent, nor was it the clothing she looked at as she closed the distance between them, moving slowly to press a kiss to Zelda’s cheek, a kiss to Hylia’s forehead and a hushed prayer for her to return unharmed to the wind.
“Please,” Impa whispered. She did not say more than that, but for once, that was enough for Zelda, just as it had been enough for Hylia all those eons ago, just as it was enough for Hylia in that very moment where she allowed her consciousness to, for a moment slip out of the carefully controlled hold she had maintained, leaving the constraints of time fully.
There, she saw it. Entombments, imprisonments, war after war. Trapped within a crystal in an endless sleep, a prisoner in stone. One would be trapped within a painting, another in a tower high above a kingdom cast into darkness, and yet another outside her body in an existence that was between life and death in a way that differed entirely from her current form. In one way or another, they would all come to know what pain and suffering meant, just as they would have to learn how to withstand it without the abilities of a goddess.
Perhaps she should have worried for the future, but as Hylia allowed herself to return to the moment at hand, she had confidence in their abilities. More than that, for as much as she knew better than to assume that she possessed the full knowledge of what was to come, she had faith in her descendants. Perhaps they would be imprisoned, but just as they would be left inside locked towers, inside their own minds, inside another realm entirely, so too would they learn to imprison their foes. With enough power, they would be able to look the demon in the eye and let them know that, rather than being involuntarily trapped in a prison of the demon’s creation, they had come to face them, and build their own chains to shackle them to the ground, saving the world around them.
In the future, Hylia could see how her power would be handed down, from mother to daughter, the truth of the source of the mystical powers the princesses of Hyrule possessed left to fall into obscurity as the people of Hyrule turned towards the Triforce for hope, only to return again. She might not be there, not with the curse that would be the price Demise would make both her and the hero pay for the role they would play in his defeat, but others would be able to step into the future. As long as it was so, Hylia would be content with being a whisper in the ears of her descendants. Obscurity might be the death of a goddess, but with her plan, she would be granted the life and death of a mortal once. Was death really that high a price to pay for that experience? As she remembered all those she had seen give their lives for her cause, Hylia could not imagine that she might ever have been able to answer that question with a no. If this, immortality and divinity, was what she had to give up to at least give the descendants of those she had sent to the sky a chance against the demon the next time he would rise, then she would give it up in a heartbeat.
Taking Impa’s hands in hers, Hylia looked at her. Once, she had helped her, had saved her when she had been at her most vulnerable, and so it would be once again. Once reborn, the girl would not know of her past life, would go through life and time the way everyone around her would, and still, much like the hero was reborn with a purpose, she too had a destiny to fulfil, one that was certain to bring danger to her sooner rather than later. Already, Hylia knew the experience of being torn from her place in the sky to fall to the ground, confused, frightened, and alone in a strange world, but to the girl who would carry her soul, that would not come to pass before several thousand years had separated her from the divine. None of it had happened to the people around her yet, but even then, Hylia could see through Zelda’s eyes how Impa refused to look away from her as she cried in front of the goddess, how she fought to help her in any way she could.
The spirit of the hero would be sure to find her again, first as a friend, later on as a stranger, and, in the end, a rival, someone who would become the one she was willing to place herself in front of once danger appeared. He was integral to her plan, but with the part of her that came closest to understanding the nature of humanity, Hylia was able to recognise the fact that, even if it had not been for the importance of the role he would fulfil, she would still have done everything in her power to grant him another chance of taking to the skies, fulfilling his last wish.
Casting a glance at Impa, Hylia brought her hands up to rest against her chest. “A heart, Impa. The process has been begun. With time, we shall bring an end to this battle, only to realise that it was merely the beginning.”
There was no hint of confusion to be found in Impa’s face, only the steely determination of the first person Hylia had met who had been brave enough to look her in the eyes. “I see,” Impa said, pausing for little more than a second before she added, “No matter what your plan is, know that I remember my oath: I am and will always be willing to serve you.”
The words of the loyal servant. Hylia knew what those words would become in the future, a hint of a smile as she told her not to place herself in the way of danger, shared stories and a past and a friendship that did not exceed their own lifetimes as Impa became a trusted friend before she was the royal advisor to the princess. It would all come to pass in the way it had to, so even though Hylia could already feel the human spirit in the desperate wish to beg Impa to convince her to stay, she placed the seeds in the flow of time that might grow to become their salvation as she let go of her essence.
Through time, Zelda felt the echo of a past that lay just outside her own consciousness as she rose from the ground to cast one last glance out over Hyrule. Mabe Village was little more than ruins and, in the distance, she could see the fires of the last, desperate stand at Akkala Citadel. Hyrule Castle was enveloped in Malice as even more Guardians appeared from the pillars the discovery of which they had celebrated only a few years ago. But Fort Hateno might have been able to withstand the attack.
Zelda could still remember how heavy Link had been when she had lifted his head from the ground, begging him not to die as well, but perhaps there was a chance that they had been able to save Eastern Hyrule, giving Impa both a chance of survival as well as the ability to fulfil the last request Zelda had given her along with the bloodstained piece of fabric that was Link’s tunic.
There was still a chance for all of them, but for them to be able to seize it and vanquish Calamity Ganon, she had to give Link enough time to return to them.
Looking at the burning fields of Hyrule, Zelda followed the path in front of her, allowing it to take her to the castle. There, looking at the cocoon of Malice, she drew one last breath, and, with the memories of the lives that had become legend rising in her mind, she reached out, pushing through the surface of the barrier as she steeled herself. Her fear lay as a cloud in her mind, but she pushed past it, forcing herself to move forwards. She could not turn back now, not when she had done this before and knew that she possessed the strength to keep Calamity Ganon from devastating the land completely.
They stepped forward, hand in hand, Hylia giving up her powers and divinity as Zelda muttered one last prayer and wielded both to create the bond that would keep back the calamity.