Fan Fiction Friday: The Era Without A Hero – Part 55

||  Part Fifty-Four  ||  Part Fifty-Six  ||

Part Fifty-Five

The Crenel Pass was a valley in the mountains that connected the Crenel Mountain Peak to the Black Cliffs along the coast of the Dinraal Sea. Most of the valley existed because it was once a quarry for stone in the rebuilding but also the construction of Kingdom Bay. However, part of the pass was already there before the Hylians began to mine it.

According to legends, Crenel Peak was once home to one of the ancient races in Hyrule. These creatures, called the Minish, had not been seen in over two centuries though and were believed to have gone extinct some hundred years before the Civil War and Unification. Outside of a few history books, the creatures themselves were more or less forgotten.

As midday arrived, Osmond and Fado entered the Crenel Pass. Clouds were beginning to gather in the distance, and some of the peaks were slowly disappearing.

“Osmond,” Fado began as they finished their lunches which they had eaten just at the entrance to the pass, “are you feeling alright?”

Osmond glanced around confused, “Yeah? I’m alright.”

“You just seem… off. Like you’re here, but also a league away in your mind.”

“I suppose I am. I’m of course worried about Zelda… But I also have this feeling as though I’m not where I’m meant to be.”

“As in you should be by her side?”

“No, not quite that. More of a question of am I doing what I’m meant to do? Am I fulfilling my destiny or living out the pages of someone else’s story?”

Fado nodded his head, “I see. Strange you should mention that feeling. I went through something similar, not all that long ago.

Osmond glanced over as if to ask Fado to continue.

“When I first awakened as a sage, I was still dealing with some grief over losing Lady Saria. She was, without a doubt, one of the greatest people I ever knew, if not the greatest. She was the embodiment of what it meant to be a sage, a person, and a friend. I felt like when I heard the call, I had to live up to that mantle. I quickly learned that I couldn’t be her, I couldn’t replace her. With some guidance from Lord Kalia, I came to accept that my role would be different. My duties would be unique to me. Slowly, over time, that feeling you described as living out the pages in someone else’s story vanished and became my own. All great stories have elements of others in them, just as your destiny is intertwined with others.”

Osmond grinned.

“Did I say something funny?” A confused look spread across Fado’s face.

“No, quite the opposite. That’s quite profound, I think.”

Fado straightened up a bit, “Thank you.”

“You’ve also got a bit of poppy seed stuck in your teeth.”

At this, Fado’s face turned red, and his fingers flew to his mouth. Osmond erupted in laughter and for the next few hours the duo walked through the Crenel Pass telling jokes and old stories.

The merriment was like a release from all the stressors and dangers the two had been through. While their reunion at the North Castle and subsequent journey to Kingdom Bay was filled with a bit of relaxation, that tension had quickly returned with the events at the Silent Princess Inn. This jovial back and forth gave them the sensation of having the burdens lifted away for good. It broke that feeling of worry that seemed to permeate everything else the duo had been involved with.

When the sun would have been falling behind the mountains in the West, the shroud of dark storm clouds had swelled over peaks instead. Darkness was descending faster than they had anticipated, as was the rain, but they quickly pressed on.

“Better to get there and be a little damp than to get stuck out here in the storm and be soaked through. The temple entrance should be just over that hill ahead of us,” Fado said.

The travel from Kingdom Bay to the tower that was the Wind Temple was not as long as Osmond had anticipated. They had only camped out one night, about halfway up the Crenel Pass. They had taken their time rousing themselves as well. While thoughts of Zelda, the ghost of the Queen, and what role he was living out hung around his shoulders, Osmond made sure his mind was focused on their task.

Find Rutela and make her answer for her crimes.

The storm moved in faster than they had anticipated and so the pair took refuge in a small grotto that acted as an entrance to one of the mines previously.

Lightning flashed across the sky as a small fire burst to life at the command of sparks from a piece of flint and steel. As the rain began to pour, creating a hypnotic soundtrack, they quietly ate some dinner and prepared to sleep.

“We’ll get there first thing in the morning. Not much further, but too much to risk staying out in the storm.”

Osmond nodded and rested his head on his pack, throwing his cloak over himself for a blanket.

A sound like hooves roused him from his sleep.

The storm had stopped but drops of rain were still falling from the outcropping of stone they’d camped out under. As Osmond looked around, he noticed a strange blue light from deeper in the cavern.

“Fado? You awake?”

Fado merely gave a grunt and rolled over.

Osmond looked back to the pale light and noticed it moved as if going further into the mountain. Curiosity enveloped him, and so he got up and followed it.

As he passed deeper into the cave, he noticed the sound of hooves returned. It sounded as if a horse were crossing a cobbled street. He told himself this wasn’t possible. The terrain to get to this point wouldn’t have been possible for a mule or donkey to cross, let alone a horse.

He followed the light until he reached a solid wall of stone debris. It looked as though the cave may have collapsed at one point in the previous hundred years. There was no horse, but the light seemed to still be present, though he wasn’t sure where it would have been coming from.

As he stepped back, giving up the pursuit of the strange light, his foot slid across a piece of paper on the ground.

He bent down and picked it up. Examining it, the side he had stepped on was blank. As he turned it over though, a pang of horror struck him.

It was a sealing talisman.

Written in black ink was a symbol of an older and ancient Hylian script, but one Osmond had seen in books enough to remember.

He turned to leave but was stopped suddenly by something that nearly defied words.

Before him, stood a creature glowing in soft blue light with four legs and a torso like a horse. Two golden antlers like branches with ivy leaves extended from the head. A long flowing beard extended downward beneath four-eyes that glowed orange. The breast of the creature had symbols patterned into the blue fur that illuminated the space.

Osmond recoiled and fell to the ground.

The creature then spoke without opening any sort of mouth that Osmond could discern. It was like the words it spoke came directly into Osmond’s head.

“Traveler, why have you come to my mountain?”

“I-I-we…my friend and I, we’re looking for somebody.”

“The Ice Queen…”

Osmond nodded, “Yes.”

“What will you do with her if you find her?”

“Capture her and see to it that she’s held accountable for crimes against Hyrule.”

“You aim to kill her.”

“If I must.”

The creature blinked slowly at this, first the inside pair of eyes and then the outside. It took a step closer to Osmond.

“Why would you need to?”

“If she fought back or resisted. She’s evil and twisted. She’s already killed the Queen.”

“So, a life for a life?”

“No, not quite. She’s taken countless lives, stoked dissension to cause more violence, and played a victim only to gain power over others. Her crimes are far longer than one murder.”

The creature stepped closer again.

“And who is it that weighs these scales of morality?”

“I suppose I do.”

“Will you be an arbiter of justice or a purveyor of vengeance? I wonder…”

The creature turned and began to leave when Osmond called out to it.

“What are you?”

The creature stopped and glanced back.

“Awake.”

In that instant, Osmond awoke with his head on his pack and Fado stamping out the last of the fire.

“Rise and shine!”

Osmond got to his feet and glanced down the cave where he had been in what was apparently a dream. The cave, now with the morning light shining into it, went back thirty or forty yards before a pile of rubble closed it off.

Had it only been a dream?

Whether it had been or not, Osmond and Fado departed.

They crossed over the peak of the final hill and a tall spire of stone rose from the ground beyond the cliff. In fact, the entire atmosphere changed.

The hill dropped off with a steep cliff that led to a landing near the base of the spire. Water crashed against the black rocks below and the sounds of the ocean rumbled. A cold sharp breeze blasted upward like a door left open in winter. The stone, which had already begun to darken, was black as night below save for the places where glowing luminous rocks rested just under the water. Here, the stones reflected the pale blue light and gave a blue-green glow to the rock.

On top of the spire of stone, was a small shrine with a basin underneath it. Just beyond the green tile roof, the rock rose up a bit more, providing the entrance to the landing.

“Is there an entrance below or do we have to try and climb up?” Osmond asked, nearly shouting over the sounds of the water and the wind.

“There’s supposed to be a bridge,” Fado said, a look of concern stretched across his face.

Osmond looked around on the edge of the cliff. His eyes then fell on two wooden stakes that were driven into the hard rock and the fringes of severed rope that were bound to them. When he looked down to the water below, several planks of what once would have been a bridge were submerged under a rock.

“I think I found your bridge,” he said, motioning over the bluff.

Fado’s face twisted as his eyes darted around, looking for another solution to their problem.

“There is an entrance down below,” Fado said, still scanning for another way across, “but it’s dangerous. The water is so cold, we won’t last more than a minute.”

“Any sort of magic we could use to get across?”

Fado shrugged, “I could propel us over. But I’m concerned about how much magic it would consume. That’s not an easy feat without some sort of instrument to channel the magic. There are also nasty draft pockets blowing around, up and down from below. There’s no telling what direction we might get blown off to.”

“Don’t you control the wind? Can’t you command it with a song? Where’s your fiddle?”

“I do not control the wind. That task belongs to the Wind God himself. I commandeer it. And, contrary to what you might think, I don’t carry my fiddle with me everywhere. Potential combat-heavy missions would be chiefly among them.”

Osmond looked down at the jagged rocks just under the water’s surface below. He began to plot out a route across the rocks. One foot here, the next there. From that rock, I can make it to the edge of that slope.

“The entrance I’m referring to isn’t on the tower directly,” Fado said, cutting off Osmond’s line of thought.

“Where is it?”

“Under the water. There’s a small tunnel that fuels the small forest growing inside the temple. Without it, it would be all rock and dirt. Part of the reason the temple was built here was because of the unique nature that exists inside.”

Osmond gave a confused look.

“Inside the temple itself, it’s like a whole other world. There are plants and trees, creatures not found anywhere else. It is a complete contrast to the location around it.”

The image seemed impossible given the surroundings. Black rocks, frigid sea winds, icy waters, and if not for the green of Fado’s hat and doublet, there wasn’t a sign of plant life for more than half a day’s walk in any direction.

“Can we tap into any of the magic that fuels that?” Osmond asked, sounding less hopeful than he intended.

“No, I’m afraid not. That bridge was really the only safe way in. If we have to use the waterway, it’d be best to wait until low tide. We might be able to get in then. Still is a huge risk though.”

The duo sat down on the edge of the cliff and began to wait.

As an hour or so passed, Osmond continued to watch down below. The water level remained mostly unchanged save for some of the jagged points that were previously submerged now jutting just above the sloshing waves.

“When is the tide the lowest?” Osmond asked, frustratingly curious.

“It should be at around one or two in the morning, but our descent should begin no later than an hour from now. Especially if there’s rain on the horizon.”

“Any chance that Wind God could blow away the storm?” Osmond glanced out over the ocean in the distance.

Thunder rolled as lightning danced in the black clouds.

“Not likely. I’d wager that he’s in that storm now actually. Conducting the thunder as if it were the percussion section at the symphony.”

“Have you actually met him?”

Fado nodded, “Twice actually. Both times, he was a complete ass.”

Osmond laughed.

“The first time was when I came here on my initial awakening pilgrimage. I had to descend like we were going to, but then climb back up and enter through the main entrance on top while carrying a torch lit with blue fire. The jokester blew out my torch three times on the ascent, sending me back to relight it each time.”

“Wow. That’s just cruel.”

“When I asked him why his only response was ‘because he could.’ Like I said, a complete ass.”

“What was the other time?”

“Do you remember that huge windstorm that hit Castletown a little while back? It was about five months before the Swordsman Tournament.”

Osmond thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Oh yeah. It tore the roof off of our shop. Drove a wagon through the flower shop across the street. Brutal.”

“Yeah. That was him.”

“What? Why?”

“He never explained it to me. I raced up onto the top of the Temple of Time and fought back with my own wind magic, which is just a borrowed form of his. But he seemed irate and furious. He wouldn’t talk to me at all. Simply exclaimed things about traitors and blasphemers. When he did settle down, he vanished without a word.”

Fado went quiet for a moment.

“I suppose he might have been talking about Rutela, given what we know now.”

“Do you think we will see him while we’re here?”

“If he’s hunting Rutela, same as us, we may.”

The two rested a bit longer, taking the opportunity to eat a little more of their rations, then began to climb down.

They used the broken ladder to reach a small landing a dozen feet down, then several small outcroppings to move further down. Just when they reached a small platform just before halfway, rain began to move in.

Pressing hard against the cold black stone, they inched further and further down. Soon the salty spray of the water was kissing their toes. Even with their cloaks to shield their faces, the wind cut through and burned their skin.

The grueling descent continued.

An hour passed.

Then another.

And another.

After four hours of frigid wind, salty and icy ocean spray, and narrow spots of rock to hold onto later, they reached the bottom.

Standing on a small bit of stone that rose from the bottom of the waters, Fado pointed to a small round hole in the central spire.

“Through there!” He shouted over the wind and waves. “It’s a very tight squeeze, but we should be able to make it through.”

Osmond nodded.

“I’ll go first. I might be able to warm the water a bit with some magic once I get through. Count to two hundred, then follow.”

Again, Osmond nodded.

He watched Fado dive in and sink below the water. A few kicks, and he was swallowed up by the hole.

One… two… three…

Osmond wondered how narrow the passage would be.

Ten… eleven… twelve…

Osmond wondered how cold the water really was.

Sixty… sixty-one… sixty-two…

Was Rutela really inside?

One hundred… one hundred one… one hundred two…

Was Zelda doing alright?

One hundred seventy-five… one hundred seventy-six… one hundred seventy-seven…

Did Fado make it through safely?

One hundred ninety-eight… one hundred ninety-nine… two hundred…

Osmond took a deep breath, exhaled just before moving, and dove into the water. He clenched his jaw and immediately felt the crushing pain of how icy the water was. He opened his eyes for a moment as he kicked forward toward the hole and felt the burning of the salt in his eyes.

He slammed his eyes shut and kicked again. He drove his arms out at his sides.

He made it into the hole and felt around blindly as he pulled himself deeper into the rocks. He continued to kick his legs and bump deeper into the hole.

A few feet in, he felt his shoulders brushing against the rock.

Kick.

He was deeper.

Both shoulders were firmly against the rock.

Pull.

He turned his body and felt stone against his chest and arms.

Push.

He desperately needed to take a breath.

Kick.

He forced his eyes open against the pain and could see nothing.

Pull.

Deeper.

Kick.

Tighter.

Pull.

He opened his mouth to breathe as his pack was pulled away.

One last kick.

Then it all went black.

 

This story is an imagining of the final days in Hyrule prior to the Great Flood talked about in the opening cinematic of The Wind Waker. The story is getting an audio version in podcast form set to begin releasing in early 2022 and there’s a complete soundtrack for the first volume here. Head over to erawithoutahero.wordpress.com or follow the story account on Twitter @ZeldaTEWAH where you can keep up on information regarding the future of the podcast, soundtrack, and other TEWAH news that will be coming soon! Every Era Has Heroes…