Fan Fiction Friday: The Silence Within the Stone – Chapter 15

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Chapter Fifteen

Contrary to the arid, stifling climate of the desert they had just escaped from, the underground refuge the party found themselves in now felt quite cool. They advanced forward, taking slow, methodical steps so as to avoid drawing unnecessary, audible attention themselves. Not to mention the fact that they were now shrouded in near darkness, save for a dim light that Jenoa had created from matches from her pack. Striking new ones intermittently, she led them down what appeared to be a masoned corridor. Link and Rukio followed the Gerudo, weapons at the ready. It was only a matter of time before she had exhausted her supply of matches and they would find themselves trapped down here. He shuddered to think that his life and adventures might end here of all places.

Jenoa surveyed the walls as best as she could. There was little here that she recognized: no tapestries, runic symbols, or written language indicative of her people. As bare as the walls were, they were surprisingly in decent standing. By her reckoning, they may be the first visitors that had seen this place in quite some time. At least, the first living visitors. She glanced back quickly at the pair behind her and a smile crept along her face. Never did she imagine that she would fall in with such a pair, particularly the Hylian boy. For one so unassuming, he had shown that not only was he quite capable, but there was clearly more to him than his appearance would suggest. In their short time together, she had observed his tenacity and desire to protect those around him at all costs. Admirable traits to be sure, but would they rise to the challenges of this place? She felt around in her pack, her fingertips rubbing against the last several matches she had available and an icy feeling enveloped her stomach. She was doing her best to make them last as long as she could, her singed fingers bearing the proof of such an effort.

As if in response to her turmoil, a gentle blue light began to emanate from the cracks between the brickwork, lighting the passageway, like water slowly flowing in rivulets sideways along the walls. She threw down the match she held, barely an ember at this point, and drew her weapons. Given the welcome they had received above, she was certain that there was more foul play at work here. The Poes were conniving through and through, and she knew that their tricks had not yet been exhausted.

Rukio, now able to see Link clearly ahead of him, clasped one mighty hand over the young man’s shoulder.

“Better keep your guard up, brother. That light might look awfully pretty, but I’m thinkin’ it’s not exactly a red carpet for us, ya know?”

Link nodded. “Yeah, I think by now I’ve pretty much accepted that if something bad can happen, it most certainly will. We don’t exactly have the best record when it comes to uneventful entrances. If I’m being honest, I’m more worried about Epona and Jenoa’s horse. I just now realized that we left them up top.”

“They’re highly intelligent, resourceful creatures,” Jenoa replied in a hushed tone. “I’m confident that they made their escape successfully.” She stopped briefly to acknowledge the two. “And so will we.”

The sound of what seemed to be a child’s laughter reverberated off of the walls ahead of them, sending them all into a hurried attack stance. A mist began to cover the ground around them, bringing their anxiety to a fever pitch.

“Enough of this,” Jenoa said through gritted teeth. She moved forward at a steady pace, steeling herself for what awaited her. Link and Rukio followed suit. They weren’t about to let Jenoa face whatever this was alone. The laughter came sporadically, teetering on the razor’s edge between being wholly unnerving and melancholic.

“Any idea what this might be, Jenoa?” Link asked beside her. He had hoped that there might be some degree of knowledge she may have had from her time at the Gerudo fortress that they could use to their advantage. Visions of the encounter above ground entered his mind and he knew that if that could be avoided he would most certainly like to.

“There is no consistency to Poe behavior,” Jenoa began. “They are like undisciplined, petulant children that find joy in torturing the living. If there is a means to break us, they will certainly use it. What is most important now is that we stick to—” She turned toward Link mid-sentence only to find he was no longer there. In fact, she was no longer in the dungeon below the sand, but back in the main antechamber of the Gerudo fortress, mere steps away from the throne. She saw the Thunder Helm, a symbol of rule among the Gerudo upon its seat and she slowly approached. An unwieldy thing, the Thunder Helmet was recognition of the standing leader of the Gerudo, and had been passed throughout the clans for centuries. Legend has it that at one point it possessed magical properties, with the ability to summon lighting being one of them, true to its namesake. It enveloped the head of the wearer save for their mouth, and featured six, teal-colored orbs along its front, three on each side. No Gerudo had been able to summon any manner of magic from it now, and it was simply part of the pomp and circumstance that came with the recognition of rule. She approached it, but was stopped in her tracks by the sound of rushing feet behind her. She turned to meet them, and saw a contingent of Gerudo troops before her.

“Master Jenoa, we are outnumbered! The enemy is at our gates! We need guidance! If you don’t act quickly this fortress will fall!”

“…What enemy?” Jenoa asked still digesting not only the forceful request she had just been given but her current situation. How had she come here? More Gerudo appeared from behind her.

“My Queen,” one began, bending a knee to her. “We grow ever closer to running out of water and your people are feeling the effects. Our crops are dying and starvation is gripping the land. We need your wisdom! Please, my Queen! Do not leave us to suffer!”

Jenoa began to feel panic well up inside of her. What was this? Why were they asking these things of her? It wasn’t her station to lead. Zayeeri had been responsible for her people since she had come of age ten years prior and had proven herself worthy in their customary trials. These things should fall to her! A cacophony of voices began to swell. Requests for leadership concerning matters of the treasury, population, disease, famine, and conquest flooded her ears, causing her to teeter backward a bit. Catching herself, she screamed out, desperate to rise above the din, “Where is Zayeeri!?”

The voices grew silent, before a procession approached the throne, parting through the now immense crowd.

“Zayeeri fell,” one of the Gerudo said as the coffin was laid down in front of her. Your sister’s burden is now yours. You are to lead us.”

“I do not want this!” Jenoa retorted, tears welling up in her eyes as she glanced downward at the coffin.

“It does not matter what you want Jenoa! You are now our ruler and that is all you can be! Your life is now ours and though you might think we serve you, it is actually you who serve us!” Jenoa took several steps forward, prepared to engage in battle with this group. She would rather die than give up her freedom to a self-serving and cutthroat people. It was the worst of her fears. If she were unable to ride along the desert sands, feeling the wind in her hair, she may as well be dead, for the alternative was not living. She moved closer, drawing her swords and began to get into position when a loud burst from the coffin gave her immediate pause. Zayeeri, her face deteriorated and riddled with maggots and patches of decaying skin and bone reached out and took her by the neck. Jenoa at this moment was frozen in fear, the deathly visage of her proud, strong sister bearing down on her was too much to bear. The acrid stench of her undead breath upon her face made her wretch as she was pushed to the ground, her grip tightening. Zayeeri grinned, muscles and tendons clearly visible as several millipedes scurried about in the openings around her jaw.

She finally found the strength to reach out and fight back. Taking several swings at the creature on top of her, Jenoa struggled with everything she had to break free. She realized what this was. She cursed as she spat at the creature.

“You are not Zayeeri,” she uttered. “You are nothing. You are a Poe and you are nothing. Just scraps of cloth in the breeze that play at life! You will never have what I do and that fills you with hate doesn’t it? Life itself makes you furious? You are nothing!”

The figure raised a bit to acknowledge Jenoa.

“Nothing am I?” it said in a completely foreign voice. Mist swirled quickly around them and before Jenoa could react, they were back within the underground chamber. The being that had Jenoa pinned was not the corpse of Zayeeri, but something else entirely. The woman before her appeared ethereal, her skull visible under a faint veneer of what she assumed to be something representative of flesh. Jenoa, unsure of how to get out of this predicament glanced frantically about. Where had Link and Rukio gone?

“Your…friends? Is that what you’re looking for? I see you looking about. Why, they’re right here of course.” The spectral woman lifted her free hand and gave a flick. Rukio and Link appeared behind her suspended in mid-air, inaudibly screaming in pain.

Bryan King is an editor for Zelda Dungeon. He loves writing about everyone’s favorite green-clad elfin boy, and thinks Zelda II doesn’t get the love it so rightly deserves.