A blazing inferno continued to rage through the clear night, and danced violently as it feasted on the charred remains of the cabin. Phyra, wounded and bruised, cradled an unconscious Impa in her shaking arms. Her pulse beat with the rhythm of life, but to Phyra’s dismay, could not seem to resuscitate her. Though shaken from near death at the hands of Artryius, the young Zora loosened her ached body and calmed her paced breath as she raised her gaze to Link. He stood firm and tall like a strong tower. Nary a solitary scratch had grazed his carved exterior, nor a tear had divided his leathered long coat. Link’s hardened face yielded a threatening frown as his commanding eyes locked their gaze on Artryius. The bangs of his parted blond hair whipped to and fro along with the gusts of the dancing wind. Link kept his hand outstretched in a defensive stance, and did not move a step away from Phyra and Impa. Artryius, with a menacing grin, descended from the air. Burnt grass crunched beneath her feet as she took a few paces forward toward Link guarding his companions, as a fierce wolf would protect her cubs. She took one more step before Link swiftly reached inside his coat and drew his ornate flintlock adorned with a blue hue and gold plating.
She halted in her tracks and remained silent. Her grin only stretched wider across her thin face with amusement and the blackness in her eyes squinted around the red iris like embers in the night. She leered through the flintlock’s barrel and cocked her head.
“If you’re going to have the decency to threaten me, at least do so in my language.” Artryius scoffed. “Though I must commend you for your courage, however foolish it may be.”
Link was resolute in his position. His broad shoulders were held firmly back and his finger relaxed on the trigger. A smirk grazed his stoic face. Link let his arm fall and the pistol to his side. He reached over to the sword strapped on his back. The blade rang sharply as it was pulled from its scabbard. It glistened in the glow of the fire and reflected in Link’s piercing eyes as he grasped the hilt with both hands.
“Allow my sword to speak for me then.” Link calmly replied. He widened his stance as he griped his sword in front. Artryius planted the butt of her staff through the dirt and bent forward as she let out a loud, mocking laugh.
“You’re even more of an idiot than I took you for!” She roared with laughter,
“Tell you what, I’ll consider making your deaths merciful if you relinquish the Composer to me. Its purpose is useless to you regardless.”
Link squinted his eyes for a moment until he realized Artryius referred to the Star Map. He felt a humming vibration from the pouch the map was stored in, but he made no motion to give away that it was in his possession. Link maintained his stance. He briefly turned to Phyra. He met her distressed expression with calm eyes as she still cradled Impa in her arms. Phyra returned his reassuring gaze with frightful concern, but a deep seeded hope began to bloom and eased the tension in her chest. Phyra had faith Link would prevail, even though her outward disposition spoke otherwise.
He returned to face Artryius, whom waited with impatient anticipation for his response. Link had to stall her in order to give Phyra time to take Impa and retreat to a safe distance.
“Normally if people want something, they usually ask for it first before blowing things up. Or knock at the very least.” Link chuckled with a smile.
“If you knew who I am, you—
“I don’t give a damn who you are.” Link interrupted Artryius, who impatiently exclaimed as her face tightened with restrained rage.
“You destroyed my pavilion, attacked my mentor, and rudely woke me up from a pleasant sleep.” Link continued before his grin faded into an angry frown, “I could forgive all of that, but, you tried to harm Phyra. You better pray I kill you instantly.”
Artryius’ temper forced itself out as she pulled her staff from the ground and with an outward thrust, a ferocious, curved blade extended from the staff’s head. She put a firm grip on her weapon as she bent her body forward in an offensive position.
“You impudent little roach!” She screamed as her red eyes widened with a bloodlust rage, “I, Artryius, Desolate Lord of Famine will not tolerate such disrespect from a mortal insect!”
The rocky earth split with a cracking tear as Artryius kicked off the ground in a fit of anger towards Link. He held his sword firm and met her charge with his. With his sword raised high, Link ran with controlled speed as gravels of dirt and mud kicked his face from the gale generated by violet feathered wings that sprouted from Artryius’ shoulder blades. She drew closer and reared her staff for a piercing attack. Link pivoted his footing and brought his sword in a downward arc. Their weapons met with a harsh, metallic ring that rippled through the air. Despite Link’s toned strength, Artryius countered his parry with an upward thrust that nearly took him off his feet. She leapt back and reached with another strike. Link recovered from his stumble and sidestepped away from the spear. He could feel a cold wind from the blade that nearly sliced his cheek. With little time to react, Link used the pole of the spear as leverage and vaulted from the ground with his legs high above his head. With a strong swoop, he landed a heavy kick to Artryius’ face. He tumbled over her and rolled onto the rough, uneven ground. Stunned, Artryius slowly reared her head numbed with pain. She leered at Link with unmoving eyes that focused with concentrated anger. She took her forearm and brushed across her bruised cheek. Her expression was firm, but cold.
“That.” Artryius hissed, “That is going to cost you.”
She raised her spear to her side and dragged her feet along the dirt as she parted her legs. Artryius stretched her left arm along the shaft and towards the base of the blade. A dark, purple aura materialized around her as the energy was concentrated into her weapon. Link rose to his feet and braced himself for the attack. As Artryius focused on her growing energy, her ears twitched at the sound of a light, harmonic hum. The aura dissipated and she loosened her grip as she retracted her battle stance to an upright position. She turned over her shoulder and sheathed her staff as she let out a disgruntled scoff. Artryius turned to Link and lifted herself into the air.
“It would seem that our quarrel will have to wait. I have must attend to another matter.”
Confused, but relieved Artryius withdrew her assault, Link rushed towards her.
“Hey wait! You called me a Harbinger. What does that mean?”
Artryius smirked as she began to dissipate in an eerie glow of black particles like snowflakes.
“Is it not so obvious? You are the End’s herald. The Phantom Queen awaits your song, Harbinger. Believe this, our paths will cross again. Pray for that moment, for mercy will not shake my blade’s wrath.”
As her words echoed into the night with an eerie whisper, the dark aura had dissolved Artryius until particles of shadowed energy were all that remained. The knot in Link’s chest had loosened and let out a relieved sigh. He sheathed his sword and turned to see Phyra hanging onto Impa as she struggled to rise on her feet. Link rushed towards them and reached to hang onto her.
“I wouldn’t think the great leader of the Sheikah would go down that quick. Like a squirrel dropping an acorn from a tree.” Link snickered with a gentle look of solace.
Impa turned to him with a look of annoyance and pain,
“Gods, you just know the right words to say don’t you?” She growled.
“Oh I never say the right words. It takes less effort to describe the obvious.”
Phyra reared her head at Link with a disapproving look on her face.
“Link! Can’t you at least try to show you have empathy?” They eased Impa off their shoulders and gently placed her against a smooth boulder. Link knelt down and reached into his satchel.
“I am showing empathy. Now she knows how I felt being beat into the ground with little effort.” Link replied as he retrieved a glass bottle that contained red liquid. He uncorked it and raised it to Impa’s lips. The potion cooled her burning face and soothed her aches as it poured into her mouth. Impa’s face puckered in a squeamish expression from the red potion’s dry and bitter taste, but it quenched her thirst and healed her ailments. After she stomached the last drop, Impa sat upright against the rock and gave Link a stern expression.
“You shouldn’t have left, Link.”
“You’ve seen what Hyrule has become. I wanted to show the King that I wasn’t going to be his lapdog.” Link responded in kind to Impa’s tone.
Impa studied Link’s closed off demeanor. She saw a glint of regret in his eyes, but knew of the rooted hatred that was seeded from the growing Imperialism that stemmed from the Royal Family.
“The King has branded you a traitor and a deserter. After you sabotaged those outposts in the Tabantha Highlands, Duke Ferrald demanded the King’s agents put you down.
Link scoffed as he rose to his feet and began to pace.
“Those “outposts” were facades hiding the maw of a glutinous empire. They’ve stripped the lands bare while under the guise of security from bandits and Yiga clansmen.”
Impa let out a frustrated sigh and pushed herself off the grass. She groaned from her sore joints. Phyra remained next to Impa and readied herself should she stumble.
“Link, we need to focus on Artryius, not dwell on past grudges.” Phyra spoke firmly.
He relaxed from his heated pace and took a calm breath. Link crossed his arms and bowed his head as he contemplated what he must do next.
“Impa, you need to go back and warn Hyrule about Artryius. Phyra and I need to find out what this Desolate Lord is and her intentions.
“No. Link. You both need to return with me.” Impa protested, “Princess Zelda-”
“And face execution? That’s not an ideal homecoming gift, Impa.” Link shot back, “You know as well as I do what usually follows a supernatural being with hostile intentions.”
Impa and Link stared each other dead in the eyes. They silently communicated their quarrel. There it was. The glint in Link’s eyes was a unique feature that Impa had always noticed. She nodded her head in understanding. She put faith in his judgment and desire to see his home safe, even if it had turned its back on him.
“What would you have me tell the Princess?”
Link loosened his tense expression and his frown moved to a faint smile.
“If I know Zelda, she’s already aware of it.”
Impa nodded silently once again and turned to Phyra.
“You keep each other safe. I can’t promise to keep the King’s agents off your backs, but I will do what I can.”
Phyra smiled and bowed in earnest. Impa faced Link once again and bid him farewell with an encouraging smile. In the many years she trained him, she knew how stubborn he was. It didn’t matter what she said to challenge his reasons, Link would follow his convictions. However, her smile was heavy with sorrow. To turn from his fate as the Hero Incarnate would yield grave consequences. Impa’s chest tightened, for she believed she could have helped him stay on his path, but willingly allowed him to follow the road he could see.
It mattered not at this point. Link was old enough to make his own choices, but Impa worried how he would handle the consequences. Impa disappeared into the darkness as Phyra and Link looked on. They held onto the hope that the Princess would understand the new threat Hyrule might face.
A new day had dawned anew with a golden sun that illuminated the cloudless, blue sky. The wolves’ howls were put to rest by the sweet serenade of small, colorful birds. Crystal clear water flowed with calming grace and the rocks glistened like gems in the sun’s refection in the river. Phyra walked a few paces behind Link. She observed him silently as he was distracted by the natural surroundings and the Tabantha Highlands in the distance. The came along the dirt paved road that lead to the Tabantha Great Bridge over the Tanagar Canyon. Phyra stopped in her tracks with her head low to the ground. Link followed in turn and turned towards Phyra.
“Are you alright, love?” Link calmly asked with a frowned concern.
Phyra remained silent as she kept her sight to the grass bordering the graveled ground. Link mimicked her silence while a brisk wind filled the empty air between them. Whenever she was troubled, Link always stayed quiet while she graced his pointed ears with her sorrows.
“Why didn’t you warn them?” She broke her silence with a trembling tone.
Link’s eyes widened with surprise, even though he knew what she was referred to. He kept his tongue closed between his lips.
“The hidden technology, the Star Map… we had knowledge of these and the Desolate Lords.” She continued as her voice shook with anger. “So why? Why didn’t we warn Hyrule of them before the situation slipped out of our hands?”
Link’s heart went heavy and his expression became more vulnerable like a guilty pup. He turned his face away from Phyra, but he felt her interrogating eyes pounding down on him.
“I’ve allowed my grudge to blind my judgment. The more we uncovered, the vision I had at the Arbiter’s Grounds, the more I became paralyzed by my guilt and fear. I went so far that I didn’t want to risk my safety or your own.”
Phyra fumed as she crossed her arms.
“We may have risked the safety of all of Hyrule. How could you put me above thousands of innocent lives?”
Link clenched his fist and faced Phyra with a stern expression.
“Hyrule has abandoned the very traditions that kept us from extinction for generations. Do you honestly think in their lust for expansion that they would even acknowledge our words?” Link’s voice rose from his tightened chest. “We are only wasting time leaning on the past. I can’t undo the decisions I’ve made. If we want to stop whatever is coming, then we need to learn more about this Composer and the Desolate Lords.”
Phyra sighed heavily with frustration. She looked to Link with weary eyes filled with disappointment. Her fuming demeanor was only a facade of how hurt she felt that Link would keep such things secret. Yet, she was worried most of all. The steady beat of her heart assured her that Link knew what he was doing. Her mind doubted that he was doing it for the right reasons. The words that were to leave her lips fell silent at the sharp whistle of arrows striking the ground around them. Both Link and Phyra drew their weapons and pivoted towards the rocky hilltop where the arrows were fired. Link signaled Phyra to move behind him with his shield raised. She dashed behind him and drew the lance holstered to her back. Carefully, they moved around while their eyes vigorously scanned the hills and grasslands around them. Link noticed the make of the arrows. Brown shafts adorned with light yellow tribal designs. The arrowheads were cross pointed steel with a ring of feathers stitched at the base. It didn’t take long for Link to realize the territory they were in when a gust of wind picked up around them. The wind cycled faster as it grew larger into a violent gale. Phyra and Link braced themselves and shielded each other from the dust and rocks that kicked up inside the cyclone.
Phyra was nearly lifted off her feet. She nearly slipped through Link’s fingers, but he used his strength to anchor her down. In an instant, the gale wind had died down and gusts of dirt and gravel had subsided. Once all went silent, Link and Phyra loosened their grip and slowly opened their eyes. The dust had settled like a parted curtain, but behind the clouded veil were tall, birdlike figures standing on their hind legs. Their long, sharp talons dug into the ground like a knife through butter. Most of them towered six feet in height with a wingspan that rivaled Phyra’s stature. Their feathered coats were of many colors that ranged from brown with white accents to dark blue with yellow accents. At least seven of them surrounded Link and Phyra with bows and spears in hand. Their narrow, raptor eyes pierced them down like hapless prey. Phyra and Link remained still, as their eyes roamed for a way out. Turning to and fro, Link saw few opportunities of escape.
“Steady your weapons, Rito warriors!” A regal voice descended from the sky as a silver feathered Rito swooped down from the hilltops. With fragile grace, she landed in front of the Rito tribesmen as they withdrew their hostile stances. Link and Phyra’s gazes gleamed with surprise as they looked upon her bright silver feathers covered by an ornate, red and gold leather breastplate with Rito tribe designs. Her head was adorned with jewelry that hung from the braids that draped well past her firm shoulders.
She took a carful look at Link and Phyra before she advanced towards them.
“All these years and not a single letter? I’m offended you could forget a stunning creature such as myself.” She smirked with a touch of sarcasm in her voice.
“Ralta, is that you?” Link’s voice dropped to his surprise as he met her face to face.
Ralta easily stood three feet taller than Link. The met each other with a smile on their faces and reached for a friendly embrace. She turned past Link and waved to Phyra. Her eyes lit up and her lips raised to an ecstatic smile.
“Ralta!” She gleefully shouted as she ran towards Ralta.
“It is good to see you again my fishy friend!” She laughed as Phyra dove into her feathered arms. “Are you keeping Link out of trouble?”
“You know as well as I that that’s not possible.” Phyra giggled.
Ralta approached Link as Phyra hopped back to the ground.
“Please forgive me for the ambush, Link. We have not been on good terms with Hyrule encroaching on our homeland.” Ralta bowed before Link in an apologetic stance
“Oh? I thought that was the Rito greeting for travelers?” He laughed.
Ralta chuckled as she stretched her arm.
“You jest, but Tabantha has been a battle zone for sometime now. Hyrule’s King is making an attempt to annex our region. As you can tell, we weren’t exactly wanting to surrender our homeland.”
Link reached into his satchel as he cocked his head and his brow raised with a smirk. Phyra sheathed her weapon and viewed the environment towards the mountain range. She noticed plumes of smoke that columned over the rocky valleys. She could hear the faint sound of coarse, metal machinery that screeched and hissed in the distance. Link held out his hand to Ralta and handed her the Star Map.
“I did all I could to slow down the excavations, and I found this at a heavily guarded dig site in the Gerudo Desert.
Ralta’s bright face faded and her eyes widened as she took hold of the glowing slab.
“You found this in the Gerudo Desert?” She solemnly asked.
“Yes.” Link nodded in response, “Phyra and I crossed paths with a woman named, Artryius. A Desolate Lord.”
Ralta could feel her feathers fluttering in a nervous twitch. She took a calming breath as she examined the centerpiece and the murals that covered the boarders. Ralta brought the slab closer to her sight and stared intently on the top mural of a man and woman playing instruments with a flower in between them.
“Artryius. The Desolate Lord of Famine.” She whispered.
“Your familiar with that name?” Link’s expression widened with surprise.
“I am. There are four Lords. Famine, War, Pestilence, and Death.” Ralta continued with gloom shrouding her face, “They belonged to a civilization long before the Sheikah. Long before Hyrule’s creation.”
Phyra rustled her head in confusion.
“What do these Lords want?” She chimed in.
“It isn’t what they want. It is what they were tasked to do. All I know is that this Star Map, this Composer is what called them here.”
Link was impressed with how much she knew about the Desolate Lords. He reflected on the years he searched for more knowledge on them, but their past was buried further than the ancient Sheikah tribes. He was eager to ask her more, but his mind held back his tongue to avoid overwhelming Ralta with questions. Link remembered the strange shadow figure he encountered, and the scattered verses he read. Fragments of a song abandoned by time and neglected by history only fueled a determined fire in Link’s heart.
For him, history must never be left to the mercy of time’s wind. It should be remembered and revered as the foundation for a better world.
“Ralta. I need to learn more about them. These visions I keep having are an omen I cannot ignore.” Link pleaded to Ralta.
Ralta simply sighed and shook her head.
“I can’t subject you to that kind of danger, Link.” Ralta handed the slab to Link, whom stood firm with disappointment in his eyes, “But, I know your stubbornness won’t heed my warnings.”
Hope was restored in Link’s sullen demeanor as his ears perked up behind the bangs of his hair. Ralta pointed to the mountains in the distance where the sun hanged high in the blue sky.
“There’s a ruined site beyond the snow peaks. My tribe have collected our knowledge of this civilization.” She continued.
“Come with us, Ralta. If you know what is to come then we need to be prepared.” Phyra stepped in front with her hands folded as she implored Ralta’s companionship. Ralta bowed her head with an apologetic expression,
“Duke Ferrald’s forces have laid siege on Revalinfall. I can’t abandon my people, nor can I allow Ferrald to discover the knowledge of the ancient civilization.”
Link’s face hanged low with a silent anger. He clenched his fist as he looked over his shoulder to see the columns of black smoke rising higher into the sky. The name Duke Ferrald left a poor taste in his mouth. A wealthy nobleman and political ally to the crown who owns a private estate on the Tabantha Frontier. Link reflected on his time in the King’s Royal Guard and his encounters with the Duke. A sly serpent who licked the King’s boot every chance he got, as well as an… “admirer” of Princess Zelda. Link’s heart wrenched with rage whenever he saw the Duke’s sunken, narrow eyes lustfully undressing the Princess.
As far as Link was concerned, Ferrald was a vulture that hovered above Hyrule as the people lay dying, and waited for the moment to feast on the remains for himself. Link turned to Ralta as she commanded her soldiers to move out. They silently complied and marched in line ahead of her. Yet, before she could make her leave, Link took a firm step and lifted his voice,
“Then let us help you!”
Ralta came to a sudden halt. She nearly stumbled from his unexpected words.
“If we can destroy their checkpoints, and secure the knowledge you speak of, then will you help us?” He continued with a confident fire in his unyielding voice.
Ralta was still paralyzed with surprise of what Link was saying. She adjusted her tall composure and faced Link with a grim look that shadowed her face.
“I couldn’t ask you to help, Link. This isn’t your battle to fight.” Ralta spoke with a low tone. Link returned her look with a confident smirk and a glint in his eye. He clenched his fist and drew his sword,
“It has been my fight ever since Hyrule abandoned its people, its heritage, and its history.” Link reached out his offhand in a befriending gesture.
“I am done running.”
Ralta gazed at Link’s gesture. She almost smirked at Link’s farfetched offer to fight against his own kind, but the Rito warrior saw that his heart lay with his ideals. She reached for his hand in a firm shake. The union birthed from friendship and grew into a brotherhood of warriors to fight for the oppressed and subjugated. Their returning smiles confirmed their convictions to bring justice to the unjust. Link knew they needed to act fast if he wants to discover who the Desolate Lords are and what civilization existed before Hyrule’s creation.
