Ocarina of Time Chapter 46

 

Chapter 46
Lens of Truth

He couldn't possibly be here. Not now.

Zelda darted down the stone path, one hand reaching for the knife hidden beneath her garb. She ran past the door of Impa's house, opening herself to magic's enduring flow. She embraced Fire, ready to cast it instantaneously. If she could get close enough.

She caught sight of the demon running around the corner of a nearby shop- Ajith's Emporium- and into a narrow lane. Zelda considered following it, but without help, a pursuit into the laneway would be foolish. Phantoms conjured from a person's image seldom died easily.

Zelda's sharpened Sheikan senses tingled at the distinct feeling of Shadow magic. It was an odd sensation, one that ordinarily made her skin crawl and caused goosebumps to break out along her arms. A chill spread through her veins as she sensed Dark Link moving towards the well and the windmill's broken remnants. There were people situated there who would have no idea what was headed their way.

Zelda ran, earning startled looks as she bolted past people peering out of their homes. She arrived in the square where the well stood. It was teeming with people and Gorons who were still combing the ruins. The Gorons looked up as she ran into the plaza, some offering greetings, others making anxious queries. Zelda heard none of them. She had to cut the demon off from its intended path.

She darted around a corner, skidding as she came face to face with a Goron. It gave a startled yelp, and Zelda stepped to the side with nimble feet, narrowly avoiding a collision with the creature's bulky hide.

As she ran, a dark figure darted out from behind a building. Dark Link ran towards the well, knocking aside swords and spears as the startled guardsmen tried to block his path.

Goddesses.

It really didn't want to fight. This struck Zelda as strange, but she forced the thought aside as quickly as it surfaced. There were too many people inside the square, and using magic could hurt many, which was something Zelda wanted to avoid, especially since it would turn them against her.

Before she could scream for everyone to run, Dark Link reached the well. He vaulted over the stone and straight into the dark abyss. No normal creature would survive that fall, but she knew better than to believe it would kill the demon.

Zelda stopped beside the well, gasping for breath. Being cautious, she formed a magical barrier within the structure's throat, then peered into the darkness beyond the shimmering barrier. There was nothing to be seen, unsurprising given that the bottom lay at the base of a sixty-foot drop. Zelda almost considered getting some rope and climbing down after the demon. No sooner had the idea crossed her mind, she dismissed it, realizing it was reckless. Climbing down would make her a fine target for anything waiting in the shadows and everyone believed there were unspeakable things down there.

Cursed.

It was no secret that none of the dwellings closest to the well- many of them now in ruins- had any sort of garden. Nothing would grow. Even the grass had always been sickly. The townsfolk complained of nightmares. Some swore they heard whispers in the long winter nights. Nobody had occupied those houses for longer than a few months- some last a few years- before they moved away, blaming their departure on the same thing. 

Kakariko's well had been unused for years before it was drained and sealed.

Beyond the nightmares and word of whispering spirits, some people believed the well was haunted by the spirit of a child who fell inside. They named him Ben and told tales of how he followed those coming to fetch water from the well. He never spoke, just watched in an endless vigil. Eventually, the villagers had gotten so sick of being haunted that they requested the Sheikah's aid to appease the wayward spirit.

Zelda was quite sure that the tale of the drowned boy was just another story, one of many that sprung up in taverns and inns over the years. It was one of the more pleasant legends surrounding Kakariko's past. Some believed the well was built on the site of a mass grave made during the Sheikah Schism. The spirits of those wretched souls now haunted the Shadow Temple, waiting to take revenge upon the living. Zelda wondered how much truth there was to this. She'd learned not to ask Impa about them as this had only prompted the Sheikah to change the subject or send her on some errand that needed attending to.

Satisfied that she wasn't in for any unpleasant surprises, for now at least, Zelda dispelled the translucent barrier sealing the well.

"Sheik... My Lady? What in the Goddesses was that?"

Zelda jerked upright at the man's voice, then turned to see a guard walking towards her. His tattered sash and red and blue embroidery blackened with soot marked him as one of Toru's captains. However, it took her a moment to recognize him. He was looking beyond her, his eyes wide as they settled onto the well.

People were gathering around now, murmuring amongst each other and casting suspicious glances at Zelda. The Gorons weren't quite so worried. Several eyed her with a mix of recognition and quizzical expressions, some holding weapons at the ready.

The tension amongst the Hylian crowd was palpable, and several guards quickly ushered the onlookers away before they could get rowdy. They avoided pushing or shoving, which Zelda was grateful for. That sort of thing could start a riot.

Zelda turned her attention to the young captain, his eyes trailing from her dagger and up towards her eyes. Realizing she was still tightly clutching her weapon, Zelda quickly sheathed it.

"My lady?" the officer sounded as uncertain as he looked.

"A servant of the Necromancer," Zelda answered grimly.

"It looked like our Sworn Brother-" grumbled a Goron as he lumbered towards her, earning an uncomfortable glance from the guard.

"It was a trick, I assure you," Zelda said, pitch calm. When the Goron looked at her uneasily, she added, "I doubt it's coming back. Return to your duties."

The Goron nodded and ambled off, leaving both Sheik and the guard alone.

"You sure it isn't coming back?" the captain asked her quietly.

"One cannot be sure of a great number of things in a time like this," Zelda said, avoiding a direct answer. It was one of many habits the Sheikah were notorious for. "Tell your men to keep an eye out, and if anyone sees anything, report to General Toru immediately."

The officer looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but thinking better of it, he turned and dashed off to his task. Zelda turned back to the well, her mind still fixed on the demon and its odd behavior. Why did it flee?

If she wanted certainty that it wasn't coming back, she'd have to act fast. First, she quickly found Jemite, who was busily helping his kin sift through broken bricks and timber. He greeted her with his usual jovial smile, even after smacking a Goron across the head for eating something it had found in the ruins of someone's house. Zelda sent Jemite to fetch Link, instructing him to send the boy to Impa's house. As Jemite rolled away, somehow garnering some speed as he did so, Zelda's thoughts returned to the bag she'd seen the demon carrying.

It must have been after something. She didn't have a clue what that could be. Impa kept a whole manner of strange things inside her house, most Zelda was not allowed to touch, but she couldn't think of anything specific that might have drawn the demon's attention. Hoping she could determine what the demon wanted, Zelda quickly walked back towards Impa's house.

Her heart pounded as she ran through the tiny yard and up the steps to Impa's door, a part of her irrationally afraid. There always was something downright eerie about Impa's home, as though the souls of its previous owners dwelt within, barely tolerating anyone's entrance. Even the villagers believed it was haunted, just like the well.

As Zelda placed her hand on the doorknob, she noticed there was a key already in the lock.

Odd.

Dark Link must have left it there, too intent on fleeing once he'd been spotted.Not wanting to think about how he'd come across the key in the first place, Zelda pushed the door open and stepped inside. Except for those strange, lingering spirits with their melancholy, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Several chairs with plush velvet cushions were arranged around a table with a tray of tea in its centre. Above the cold hearth stood a tapestry depicting a mask- Impa's family emblem. It was similar in appearance to the Mask of Truth, but the red teardrop was missing. This wasn't too surprising to Zelda, for the crimson teardrop was a relatively recent addition: a symbol of the Sheikah who died during the Hundred Year War. All Zelda knew of Impa's role in that war was that she had supported the Royal Family, and then turned on them in an attempt to seat the monarch's estranged son on the throne. Given that it appeared that the Royal Family had sanctioned the slaughter of the rebel Sheikah, it seemed little surprise that Impa had fought against them.

Was that why Impa never spoke of her family? Did her choice to side against Zelda's great grandfather turn them against her?

Impa's family motto was written across the tapestry's bottom in ancient Sheikah.

"There is no light without shadow."

The mottos of most noble houses were grand and inspiring, and yet, Zelda found this one to be neither. She often wondered where it came from. Nothing else inside the room looked odd or out of place. A cup of tea sat untouched and stone-cold on one side of the table, a book propped beside it. If Zelda had to guess, Impa was probably reading when the first attack took place, rather than celebrating with the village. It made sense since Impa didn't partake in what she referred to as "frivolous occasions."

Oh, Impa, Zelda thought, her chest tightening as she looked about the empty room. Why did it have to be now, when I need you most?

Pushing her thoughts away from her mentor's untimely demise, Zelda glanced back up at the tapestry. The mask stood in the centre of one long family tree, with names dating back centuries before the first Hylians permanently settled into what was now the Kingdom of Hyrule. This was when the Kokiri occupied almost all Hyrule, and the present kingdom was little more than a minor province.

The names on the tapestry were so small that Zelda needed to squint to see them. Impa hated that tapestry. She'd tried every means to remove it, short of burning the entire house down. The tapestry itself was magically stuck to the wall and was able to resist every attempt to remove it.

She could only guess why Impa disliked it so much. The woman had many secrets, and Zelda could only contemplate how little she knew about Impa's past. She was still struggling to accept what she'd so far learned. While Zelda remembered Impa saying that someone had attempted to end Ganondorf's life she'd never suspected who that would-be assassin was.

What else didn't she tell me? Zelda felt cold to the bone as she contemplated whether or not Impa knew Link's fate. Would he even survive his encounter with Ganondorf? Memories of that vision washed across the surface of her mind. His body lay cold and broken. She desperately tried to shake him awake, but no life stirred. A monstrous figure of nightmares loomed over them with blades nearly as long as Zelda was tall, its triumphant laughter booming across the land.

No, Zelda thought. He wouldn't fail. Link could not fail, and she would not let him, not when so much depended on whether or not Link survived.

Impa's name was near the tapestry's base. She was the eldest of four siblings who'd died during the Hundred Year War.

Zelda turned away from the mantle, examining the room one last time. Behind the dining table, the door to the larder stood open. She knew she'd find the basement doorway through there.

That must have been where the demon went.

She walked into the larder and looked around. The room was almost bare, save for a foul smelling bottle of milk gone sour. She moved into the storeroom and faced the plain stonewall on her right. It was innocuous at first glance, except for the Sheikan emblem scratched into it. Upon seeing it, Zelda recalled the instructions within Impa's letter and knew what to do.

She placed her hand on the Sheikan emblem, opening her awareness to the plane of magic. She became aware of the threads of magic as they weaved about her like tiny threads. A few off-shoots of those threads were knotted about the door, creating the barrier that stood before her. Slowly, Zelda picked at the barrier, picking at the tiny interwoven streams of magic until they slowly came undone. It was tedious work, and despite the cool air, sweat beaded on her forehead.

As the final threads came undone, Zelda opened her eyes. The eye on the door began glowing white, until it looked like the stone was on fire. Then, the wall vanished, revealing a door just beyond it that opened on well oiled hinges. Zelda cast a ball of shimmering light in front of her, revealing a spiral staircase that vanished into the gloom.

The cold bit through the layers of her wrappings as she descended into the basement, and Zelda shivered. Soon it was cold enough to freeze the marrow within her bones. How did Impa work down here if it was always this cold? She remembered Impa's study in the castle, with its homely fire crackling in the hearth, the comfortable cushioned chairs, and the soft rug that bedecked the floor, and a cozy nook perfect for reading. It was there that Zelda was schooled in the ways of the court and the history of her realm, a fragment of a life she'd almost forgotten. The faint memory tugged at her, threatening to awaken the emotions she'd buried for so long. Lost in her thoughts, Zelda almost missed a step. The sudden horrible lurch in her step brought her back to her present reality, far from the creature comforts of her lost home. It was then that Zelda noticed a strange chill in the air, an aura of ancient magic tingling her senses.

Wards perhaps? Zelda wondered as she tried discerning what it was. The threads of magic were as thick in this room as cobwebs, and it was almost impossible to discern what each individual strand was. She could recognise the threads of Shadow-  deep purple threads of pulsing magic that bore no small resemblance to a web of sickly veins.

Something was aware of her intrusion. The spider in the web. Zelda knew this was no simple spirit. There was a darkness here that didn't belong and even now it watched. Waiting.

Zelda's hair stood on end. Drawing trembling breath,  trying not to think what would happen if she drew on the threads of Shadow magic, Zelda pushed on.

The solitary, enchanted light followed her, shimmering as Zelda arrived at yet another wooden door that opened silently upon her touch.

Zelda stepped into the next chamber beyond, the light floating beside her gently touching the cold stone nearest her. With a startling abruptness, torches sprung to life along the walls, and Zelda gasped. It wasn't the torches that made her jump.

The room resembled an earthquake's aftermath. Books were knocked and thrown from their shelves. Entire scroll racks had emptied, their contents strewn recklessly across the floor. An ink jar had been overturned on the bench that might have once been Impa's study, staining an old map of Hyrule.

Elsewhere, the contents of several emptied chests were sprawled across the stone. Stepping over the maelstrom of scattered books, scrolls, and other items, Zelda approached the door to the next room which led to a small library. While Hyrule Castle had possessed one of the grandest repositories of knowledge in the Ten Kingdoms, enough that it would have taken months to sort through, this library was no bigger than the common room of a small inn.

Workbenches lined the walls, laden with potions, instruments for alchemy and- much to her distaste- an assortment of specimen jars and skulls. This room hadn't been touched in some time, for a thick film of dust blanketed the glassware and the benches were covered in cobwebs.

One thing in here caught Zelda's eye. A red rug in the room's center had been pulled back to reveal a trapdoor. Zelda was certain it was the one Impa's letter had mentioned, which meant it led to the Shadow Temple. It was just as well that there was another way in as the Gorons had blown up the entrance in the graveyard.

Naturally. She wouldn't be surprised if the Goron's chose to either demolish the well next or fill it up with rubble.

For now, the only way to get inside the Shadow Temple was through this trapdoor. Impa's letter had mentioned that there was a door in the chamber below which could only be opened using the Ocarina of Time. It didn't come as any surprise to Zelda that Dark Link hadn't used that to make his exit.

Presently, something on a nearby table caught Zelda's interest. It was a simple magnifying glass with an amethyst-blue handle and three triangles decorating its rim. It lay beside a piece of parchment with Sheikah script scrawled across it.

Her attention on the ornate lens, Zelda picked it up and almost gasped. As she hovered the lens over the parchment, she saw thin black lines, forming an array of corridors, rooms, and chambers. It was a map. When she moved the lens away, the parchment was once again blank. Zelda eyed the lens, turning it over to read the small inscription engraved on the handle.

Lens of Truth.

This was what Impa told her to find. She looked back at the map, studying it. The writing, scrawled in ancient Sheikan, was a map of the Shadow Temple. As she hovered the lens over the largest chamber, the lines vanished again, then rapidly re-appeared to reveal a much larger representation of the room. The chamber's sides were speckled with little black dots, each with a name beside them. Zelda recognized the names of a dozen villagers and almost gasped as she came across Impa's name.

Did that mean she was still alive?

Without knowing how the map worked, she couldn't tell. There was another name she recognized too, Halvard. Beside him was a neatly scrawled, circular symbol she recognized as the Shadow Medallion.

When she turned around, still examining the lens' edges for any sign of another inscription, Zelda noticed something odd. When she held up the lens towards one of the bookshelves, the shelf vanished, a door resting in its place. When she moved the lens away, the narrow bookshelf returned.

As she walked towards the door, Zelda tried in vain to ignore her peripheral vision. She could see shelves out the corner of her eyes, certain that she'd find herself walking into it rather foolishly. Glad she was alone, Zelda hesitated before the bookshelf and then took a step forward, smacking her head straight into it.

What the...

Zelda almost dropped the lens, biting back a curse that, once upon a time, would have gotten her switched until she couldn't sit down for a week.

Goddesses, damn it, she thought, irritation rising. What was the point of the lens making the bookshelf invisible if all it meant was walking right into the damned thing?

The Sheikah were not known for their sense of humour so that probably wasn't the case. Besides, a study filled with books and artifacts of arcane magic didn't seem a likely place for such a stupid prank. No, she was missing something. No doubt, she reasoned, it was probably obvious. She touched the threads of magic again, aware that she might draw the ire of whatever watched her.

It had to be done.

The web of magic that flowed around her did not seem to converge on the bookcase, as she might have expected if this were a ward. There were  dark threads woven around the handle and rim of the lens, but that was it.

She peered back through the lens and something else revealed itself that hadn't appeared when her hand was on the door. One of the stones looked slightly out of place, protruding from the wall. Zelda pressed her hand against the smooth stone, and gave it a gentle push, making it slide back in line with the rest of the wall.

The moment she did that, the bookshelf vanished. Now it was neither visible with or without the lens. Not entirely convinced she wasn't about to collide with the shelves again, Zelda held her hand out and felt for a shelf. Finding none, she twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.

The room looked similar to the first one, shelves lining the walls of pale stone. She thought it was odd; there was a piano on one side with a disembodied, scaly black hand atop the instrument. It looked grotesque and life-like. She took a step forward...

Crunch!

Zelda almost jumped out of her skin before looking down to see what she had trodden on. It was a mask...

Masks of various designs lay scattered across the floor around a heavy wooden trunk.

Strange. Impa didn't have a fascination with masks.

The mask she stepped on was shaped like a Keaton- a fox-like animal not native to Hyrule. A crack now ran across the mask's face, and Zelda placed it gently on the nearest workbench. Her eyes fell on a book resting there, open to a page bearing illustrations of people wearing masks. The faces of the masks were twisted; the bearer's seemed to be in tremendous pain as they writhed in agony, limbs and hands contorted in unnatural angles. The illustrations showed the victims gradually transforming into animals. The artist used exquisite detail to emphasize just how painful the transformations were.

With little doubt that the book belonged to the Mask Salesman, Zelda closed it and studied the front cover. Sure enough, Halvard's name was written in bright silver letters at the bottom. Zelda reasoned that Impa must have let him use this room to store his things. Zelda took another look at the trunk's contents scattered across the room. She picked up a gray mask, its face twisted in terrible pain. Finding herself liking this man less and less by degrees, Zelda took a look inside the trunk.

The only thing left inside was Halvard's dusty rucksack that Zelda would've recognized anywhere. It was slashed and now empty; the masks normally decorating its sides scattered.

A sudden thought sent a chill down Zelda's spine. She took another look at the masks, searching for a familiar heart-shaped mask with bright, round amber eyes. She was so focused on her task that she nearly jumped out of her skin when one mask started singing, its happy song casting a dissident note through the silence.

Heart pounding, and feeling rather foolish for being spooked by a child's toy, Zelda picked up the offending mask, which grinned from ear to ear. A memory stirred deep in Zelda's mind, bringing a faint pang of sadness with it. Ewan had liked these masks. So much so that she'd thrown one off the castle's wall when it wouldn't stop singing. It was strange to think that the thing she missed most about her brother was how annoying he could be. She missed his boundless energy, his untempered curiosity, and his stupid games. It seemed ironic that the things she missed the most about him, were the things she'd hated most when he was alive. At that thought, she felt a dull pain throb deep inside of her.

No, she thought, trying to push her emotions aside. Now isn't the time for that.

She brought herself back to the present, which wasn't hard when she brought her attention back to the merrily singing mask.

"Stop that!" she hissed, as if afraid the shadows might stir at the noise. They just might for all she knew. "Be quiet!"

Heedless of her words, the mask continued its chirpy tune, and Zelda almost snarled with irritation. Suppressing an urge to set the annoying thing on fire, she marched over to another chest and threw the mask in it, slamming slammed the lid shut. She regretted it instantly. An oppressive silence hung over the room, one she ordinarily didn't mind.

Keeping focused became harder as Zelda continued scouring the masks strewn across the floor.

The mask she was looking for wasn't there, and her heart began racing with panic. Halvard must have brought it here, sure that it would be safe within Impa's study. The creature had stolen the mask, and to what purpose Zelda wasn't sure. At first, she was confused.

The spirit within the mask was allegedly gone. Halvard assured her it was gone. Unless...

Unless Halvard lied. She shook her head, rubbing a hand against her forehead. No, he wouldn't do that. Not unless the mask corrupted him somehow. It was said objects of such dark magic left their mark on those who came into contact with them. Even if the demon inside the mask was able to gradually transfer its soul into a new host, it would still be dangerous. Was it possible Halvard was corrupted by the mask, just like the Sheikah of old?

No, she reasoned to herself. He's on our side, Impa would have known if something was wrong with him.

Dismissing the notion that a malevolent spirit was somehow influencing Halvard, she considered another reason why Dark Link would steal this particular mask.

Then she went cold, and every last bit of warmth left her.

Unless it can be resurrected by the Necromancer.

Halvard had warned her it could be resurrected, but he was certain no mages alive were capable of performing such a feat. Halvard himself had wanted to control the mask and use it to destroy Ganondorf, but Impa had believed- with good reason- that such an act would doom them all. The mask was better off being destroyed so that no one could use it, or bring the demon back to life. No one that is, except for someone Impa had long ago sealed within the Shadow Temple.

Suddenly, the reason for kidnapping dozens of people made more sense. Resurrecting the demon would require a sacrificial ritual of hundreds of souls to feed it. What better place to procure them from than a town packed with villagers, soldiers, and refugees?

"Oh, shit," Zelda swore.

That definitely would have gotten her backside birched enough times to make sure she couldn't sit down for a month, let alone a week.

The Necromancer intended to resurrect Majora.

Next Chapter

Reviews

SunPraiser31 chapter 47 . Apr 1, 2017 It's been a while since my last review, sorry about that. It's been a hectic few weeks. I'll leave a few reviews today to make up for that. It was interesting getting to see some more of Zelda's thoughts regarding Impa and her old life, but this chapter felt a lot slower than any of the previous ones. Most of it is Zelda looking around two rooms. It managed to keep me interested, but I think the descriptions got a bit TOO descriptive at times. That's not a huge problem though. I know I've been guilty of that too many times to count. About your comment on my rewrite: don't worry, I intend on taking a long break before I start writing New Blood again. I'm gonna work on some other projects while I brainstorm for a fresh outline. Even once I do start writing it again, I'm gonna take my time with it. I've definitely learned my lesson about burning out too quickly.

Sheep6873 chapter 47 . Jan 27, 2017 I see you've remasterd this chapter, I didn't think about this the first time I read this but I'm curious did Zelda essentially go through the events of Majora's mask in this story  (which was a cool idea btw) If so how would she have avoided the moon without the ocarina of time ( her harp maybe) or get through temples without transformation masks (impas help?). Did she stop majora through a different series of events? lol maybe I'm over thinking it a little

Guest chapter 47 . Oct 22, 2016 Oh, my goddess we are skrewed necromancer majora a crapton of death

HelixHero chapter 47 . Sep 8, 2015 Oh man...

Shaveza chapter 47 . Jul 28, 2015 ...you included the Ben Drowned tale! XD Hahaha. I'm still glad to get more Zelda time! You're really going all out with the Shadow Temple! I'm loving it. The inclusion of Majora's Mask elements also makes me excited. Majora's Mask is probably my favourite Zelda game (one of them, at least). It's cool how you're blending things together for your story, without them overtaking the overarching Ocarina of Time story too. See you next chapter!

Lord Darth Yoda chapter 47 . Jul 27, 2015 Oh boy, that's gonna be fun... And I really liked the Impa and . I always felt Impa in OoT and SS were underutilized and love seeing stories that give them story and character. Good job!