The Legend of Zelda: Forgotten Goddess

Epona another comforting pat on the head before turning back to his somber host.

  “Take care,” she quickly insists, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his torso in a brief hug. With her cheek to his chest, she can hear his strong, steady heartbeat thumping contently. His face remains shrouded in the dark, but she can picture its stoic state in her mind easily enough. “Come back during the day next time. Talon hasn’t seen you in ages.” An assuring nod later, Link squeezes her shoulder assuredly before backing away and climbing back onto Epona’s saddle. “Take some milk before you go,” Malon calls as Epona begins a steady trot toward the house. “There’s an extra bottle in the cabinet!” Though he heard her gracious offer, Link sets a steady pace out of the ranch, circling the large diameter as Navi rejoins him. The meek flicker of torchlight over the drawbridge is his destination. He must find Zelda and form a comprehensive strategy to rid Hyrule of Ganondorf once and for all. The brief period of a simple life and pleasantries often taken for granted has passed. The Triforce has shattered, the world is degrading, and once again the burden of a hero has fallen upon his shoulders.

  The Empty Handed:

  Some Foes Have Righteous Causes

  Another long groan fills the air as the cattle lazily shuffle out of the dim barn. The brief sleep has done enough to give the boy a sense of rejuvenation, though his muscles desperately wish to remain inert. Slowly regaining consciousness, Rift rises to a sitting position in his itchy bed of straw, the recently dressed wound on his back still throbbing. The barn is quickly emptying as the consistent scraping of hooves on dry earth steadily decreases in volume. The empty food tray lying next to him is suddenly scooped off the ground as Malon offers a brief smile before returning to her duties. Though there is something almost mechanical about her strict adherence to obligations, Rift notes she is both pretty and kind. Traits he’s been unfamiliar with most of his life. She has ` nothing to gain by helping him, and his drifting thoughts are already growing inappropriate. Quickly snatching his silent music box off the ground beside his makeshift pillow, he climbs to his feet with a brief stretch. Feeling distinctly awkward, he wanders out of the barn himself, unsure how to leave without being excessively rude. The morning sun forces an eye shut as he emerges onto the dry field amongst the animals. Catching him by surprise, Malon suddenly appears behind him, seeming to be everywhere at once this morning.

  “Morning,” she greets with a chipper, but rushed tone. “Stalchildren won’t bother you as long as the sun’s up. Be careful from now on,” she concludes, promptly moving back toward the house with a stack of dirty blankets before Rift can offer a response. There is a sincere generosity in her words, lost in her compulsions as she’s no time for such pleasantries. With the sun to his back, he glances left at the exit before deciding he should thank her before he leaves. Unsure if he’ll be able to catch her at all, he starts toward the house.

  “W-what are you doing?” Mai suddenly asks, confused by the divergence from the plan.

  “I want to say thank you before I leave,” he admits, preoccupied with his search. Inside the house, Malon is nowhere to be found. Marching up the stairs he spots a room at the end of the hall.

  “We really don’t have time for this. She let you sleep in a stinky barn with the cows and horses. Is a thank you really necessary?” Mai asks, eager to put the ranch behind them. Ignoring her input, the boy lightly knocks on the door before opening it just slightly. Peering inside he finds an older, heavy set man lying on a bed. His ample facial hair glimmers in the morning sun, his entire body drenched with sweat. Clearly tremendously ill, he coughs several times before returning to his uncomfortable resting position. Quickly realizing he is intruding, Rift shuts the door as quietly as he’s able, proceeding back downstairs with a sad expression. “The drought isn’t the only plague spreading through Hyrule,” Mai admits, sounding much more solemn than before. “Many are succumbing to fevers and illness. It will only get worse in the days to come.” Nodding with understanding, Rift ventures back outside. He’d seen a couple older folks in the same condition back in Castle Town. They certainly wouldn’t last another month in the dry, consistent heat. Moving toward the open field beyond the barn, Rift spots a farmhand busily scooping fodder with a hay fork. His overalls are coated with dirt as well as his green shirt beneath them. Stifling a cough, he absently scratches at his thick mustache before continuing his chore. The early morning sun climbs higher into the sky and Rift realizes he has already wasted too much time searching.

  “Come on, we should have been at the lake by now,” Mai points out impatiently. An audible creak is followed by a brief bang and Rift ascertains that Malon has ventured back into the house. Potentially taking a moment to check on her ill-fated father, she surely has better things to do than chit-chat with some vagrant. Though he’s afraid to admit as much to Mai, he wishes he could stay longer and get to know Malon. There is obvious warmth behind her automated actions, but she no longer lives in a time when it is duly appreciated. The grumbling man behind Rift mumbles something about having to do all the work around here, stabbing the fork into the ground and taking a momentary break. There is little more happiness to be found here than back home, and Rift finally decides he has seen enough.

  “Alright, let’s go,” he agrees, setting a brisk pace out of the ranch and to the south. Hyrule Field seems to glow with a somber ambience in the early afternoon sun. The boy’s long trek south is a silent one, not passing a single soul along the way. His choices and promises begin to weigh heavily on his mind as the lake comes into view. Not many people like Malon must exist in this day and age. Sacrifice and selflessness are legend. Still, she helped him and asked for nothing in return. What sort of ulterior motive could be attained through such a simple gesture? Mai made him a promise. He would help her and she wouldn’t leave him. What will he have to do for her in the future? What kind of sacrifice has he pledged to commit? Will she remain true to her word once her goals are achieved?

  “You’re awful quiet today,” Mai notes, uneasy with his new deep-in-thought demeanor.

  “Sorry. Just have a lot on my mind,” he admits.

  “I understand. Want to talk about it?” She asks, sounding just a little more intrusive than curious.

  “It’s nothing, really. Not much of a lake is it?” He points out, changing the subject as they arrive. A massive, circular beach surrounds a small pond of water at the center. The mountainous west stretches across the horizon yielding to the thick tree line across the southern boundary. A church-like structure spreads over the meager amount of water, sunken beneath the surface until revealed in recent years. Beginning his trek down the gradual slope, Rift fails to notice Mai hasn’t answered him, now deep in thought herself. He is keeping something from her, and she doesn’t like it. Thus far he has been completely open and honest. Something has changed. Something she’d said or done? Impossible to know for certain, but nevertheless, growing apart will doom them to failure in the trials ahead. If their relationship is to be successful, this level of trust must be eclipsed in the days to come. Rift’s steady stride slows to a stop as something catches his eye. A steadily approaching trajectory of hoof prints have locked onto his path, now leading all the way down to the structure’s entrance. A gentle wind slowly starts to pull his hood back and over his brow, prompting him to catch and adjust its position. The deeply embedded U-shaped tracks quickly begin to disappear, the sand erasing their existence with ease. Normally not the type to take notice of such subtlety, the boy grows excited to share the information with his companion.

  “Those tracks are recent. Someone got here just before us,” he points out, attempting to mask his smile with a casual tone.

  “Yes,” Mai agrees, having noticed the tracks the moment they arrived. “I was afraid this might happen. We’re not the only ones after the treasure in there.”

  “Not the only ones? Should I be worried?” Ri
ft asks, though he suspects he already knows her response.

  “Of course not!” Mai smirks, happy to be developing a healthy rapport once again. “It’s nothing we can’t handle. Come on! We can beat them to it if we hurry.”

  “Now we’re talking,” he grins, breaking into a quickened jog down the slope. Just before reaching the waterline, the hoof prints suddenly stop, turning and leading away from the temple. Now following a pair of boot tracks, Rift wades into the shallow, cascading pool, climbing out onto the etched stone entranceway with ease. Inside he is bewildered by the breathtaking sight of a large cathedral of shimmering stone walls and intricately carved pews of resilient wood. The small amount of water outside is reflected on the smooth, marble walls, rippling all the way up to the ceiling. Behind the altar, a large statue of a goddess dancing atop a swirling wave stands high over the chorus bleachers on either side. Drifting between the rows of seating, Rift’s eyes remain fixated on the statue.

  “Hello, sister,” Mai greets sourly.

  “Who is she?” Rift asks, captivated by the goddess’s beauty.

  “Nayru, the goddess of