declares, his appearance all but faded completely. “Farewell, my son. We will not meet again.”
The glowing white atmosphere fades slowly as Link’s fuzzy vision takes a moment to adjust. The rain has increased significantly, the water rushing down from the mountainside pouring into the giant chasm at the center of Kakariko. Standing in a stunned stupor from the torrent of information, Link fails to hear the voices calling his name.
“Link! What’s wrong?” Zelda asks, her disciple long since dispatched for more reconnaissance.
“Hey! Listen!” Navi calls, trying her hand at grabbing his attention. Finally coming to, the hero turns to stare at Zelda with a very unusual expression.
“You alright?” She asks, stepping closer and touching his cheek. The look in his eyes suggesting he has yet to return to his senses completely. “I need to get back to the castle, but Ganondorf is after the sages. I’m sure he’ll head for the forest next. You’ve got to find Saria before he does.”
The Empty Handed:
Some Truths Remain Unspoken
“Are you okay?” Mai asks, laying her hand on Rift’s shoulder as her upper half drifts into the visual spectrum. Lying on his back upon the rocky ground, the boy’s thoughts return to the cove beneath the temple of water. He remembers the darkness. He remembers the fear, the feeling of certain death all around him. The sensation of impossible warmth pulled him from the brink. The feeling he thought was only possible in his mother’s arms, until now. Choking to life he felt Mai’s body pressed against his, resuscitating the half-drowned boy she’d just pulled from a watery grave. Straining to breathe, she held him close, squeezing his head against her bosom until he regained his senses. Now, on the dark trail leading up the mountain, she hovers just above him with her hands on his chest. The same gleeful smile overtaking her face once she sees he is alright. Her ghostly appearance has lessened, her features becoming more and more pronounced as her strength continues to return. A siren’s smile is half as charming. She could lead a thousand ships of sailors into the gates of the underworld with a flutter of her eyelashes, but fortunately for Rift, she has much more practical goals in mind.
“Yeah,” Rift nods, still dazed from the brief beating Link issued him. As his companion’s form fades away, he regains his composure and begins the trek up Death Mountain. The steep slopes and rocky crags are void of plant life all the way up the hazardous trail. Dwarfing the boy in size, four-legged spider-like creatures occasionally leap overhead, seeming to have business elsewhere this particular morning. The further the boy travels, the darker the shades of brown and grey become, stained by the active volcano’s random eruptions. The dark environment is in no way welcoming, the dark ring of smoke above the peak beginning to merge with the dark thunderclouds bleeding across the sky. Dawn’s light steadily increases in brightness, but even so the mountain is overshadowed with grey, the first raindrops beginning to fall upon the trail. The gate to Goron City comes into view, and Rift quickly focuses his senses upon spotting the pair of defeated guards lying about the open gate. A brief sizzling noise catches the boy’s attention, like water hitting the base of a pot hung over a fire. The hiss steadily amplifies and he realizes the volcano has erupted recently, the hardened lava beneath his feet having yet to cool completely. Distinctly soft beneath his boots, the ground has yet to take permanent shape, and Rift soon realizes his feet probably would have melted some time ago without his enchanted footwear. Almost to the city’s entrance, a loud groan of exertion prompts Rift to duck for cover, slowly rounding a rock face to determine the source.
A large Goron screams with rage and anguish as he smashes boulders to pieces with devastating punches. Fearful at first, the boy quickly notes a sad sort of aura about his movements, pacing listlessly before obliterating another large stone. Placing both hands to his brow, it becomes obvious he is mourning some kind of loss, but his anger quickly overshadows his sorrow. Rolling into a ball he bashes against the mountainside, knocking several large rocks loose above in an avalanche of falling stone. Moving with a rapid and precise technique, the Goron smashes each rock to pebbles just before they’ve descended to the ground. A daunting display of ability Rift has no intention of seeing up close, the punches and elbow strikes are horrifyingly destructive. Moving back to the city entrance the boy is filled with dread when the Goron he just watched fight the mountainside rolls around the corner in the blink of an eye, cutting off his path forward. Unfurling with an angry grimace below his spikey mohawk, the rock-eater holds up a palm to the boy.
“What business do you have with the Death Mountain Tribe?” He asks, itching for a fight.
“I-I um,” Rift stammers, struggling to produce a reasonable excuse. “Wanted to know what happened to the guards,” he finally expresses, pointing back toward the entrance.
“Guards,” he nods knowingly as if he only just now remembered them. “Come with me.” Walking the short distance back to the gates, they soon reach the guards, still lying where they fell in combat. “Link, patriarch of the tribe,” he greets, kneeling down next to his comrades. Temporarily confused by the Goron’s name, the boy soon realizes he is being rude.
“Rift,” he nods, rapidly feeling awkward in the environment of death. The rain begins to increase in intensity, water beginning to steadily pour off the front of the boy’s hood. With quite a bit of effort, Link hoists both of the lost souls onto his shoulders, marching back toward the city with occasional grunts of strain. “Do you need help?” Rift asks, unsure if he would even want to carry one of the unfortunate guards.
“No,” Link immediately grunts, continuing forward. “Goron problems. Enter the city, Rift,” he instructs with a newfound tone, only slightly friendlier than before. “Meet you on the bottom floor. Will have words.”
“Okay,” the boy agrees, moving ahead of the slow-walking Goron. “Thank you!” Inside the colossal cave, the Goron people seem every bit as disheartened as the inhabitants of Castle Town. They go about their business with a sense of defeat, unsympathetic to any and all around them. Large murals depicting bipedal reptilian creatures span the high walls of the city, slowly telling a story as Rift rounds the upper tier, searching for a staircase leading down. The picture story ends with a man in green slaying the crocodile-like beasts and afterward being heralded by the Goron people.
“Seems like they’re fans of the… Other Link,” Mai sighs, inspecting the murals herself. “A real hero wouldn’t have left them defenseless and suffering like this.”
“Why do they worship him?” Rift asks, his curiosity peaked. “They’re even naming their kids after him,” he adds, hooking a thumb back to the entrance to imply the patriarch.
“I’m sure he helped them once. It would have been better for their race to take care of themselves, though. Depending on a hero can’t sustain them forever. They need self-reliance. They’ve learned that the hard way,” she explains, watching the listless children and depressed adults throughout the area. Descending the levels of the city, the boy eventually reaches the patriarch’s room, guarded by a pair of average-sized Goron men. Considering what he might say to them to gain entry, Rift is glad to see Link suddenly descend into the scene.
“With me,” the patriarch nods, gesturing toward the boy and stepping between the guards. Quickly following suit, Rift jogs through the round doorway, meeting Link in a large, torch-lit chamber. Plucking the hood off his head, Mai gives the boy an encouraging squeeze on the shoulders before vanishing again with a smile.
“Sorry about before,” Link starts, sitting on the ground behind a long, stone table in the center of the room. The small chamber is amply lit, but lacks any sort of décor aside from the bare essentials. “What happened to our men? Ganon happened.”
“Ganon? You mean Ganondorf?” Rift asks, recalling the armored man who fought for the Triforce.
“We know the demon-pig as Ganon,” he corrects with contempt. “Tried to kill us all deca
des ago. Castle gave no warning before he was knocking down our gates. Why?” He demands more than asks, leaning over the table and staring at the boy.
“I-I don’t know,” he meekly responds, wondering where the harsh tone is originating.
“Don’t know?” Link angrily retorts, calming slightly before continuing. “Not from the castle,” he realizes, reading Rift’s expression.
“No, no,” Rift quickly denies, shaking his head. “I’m just… Traveling.”
“Traveling?” The patriarch asks, eyeing his puny company suspiciously. Before he can offer a response, the boy is startled by one of the guards interrupting the meeting.
“Boam has arrived, sir,” he reports casually. With only a questioning glare to offer, Link can’t place the name, though he is certain he has heard it before. “The ambassador from the castle,” the guard adds, trying not to sound insulting.
“Right,” the patriarch nods, climbing to his feet. “Send him in. Time for some answers.”
“No,” Mai breathes, realizing where things are headed.
“What?” Rift asks, not considering the fact that the patriarch can hear him, but not Mai.
“That Boam guy works for Zelda! We’ve got to get out of