Fortitude - Chapter 11

Xxx 11 xxX

"I saved her… from that life…"

He lay on a stone altar, chained to its black surface and stripped from the waist up. A cloaked figure stood at his side, his gloved hand gripping Link's forehead.

"You abandoned her," he spoke in a low, monotonous voice. "You let her walk away, knowing how much she would suffer."

"No — I could never —" Link struggled to speak through his pain. "I remember her... as my wife..."

"That is a fantasy. A lie of your own fabrication." His hand tensed against Link's forehead. "Must I show you again?"

The violet glow of magic flowed from his hand, crackling as it coursed through his victim's body. Link thrashed against his bloodied chains, crying out until the magic ceased.

"Let us start again," the man said with his same emotionless tone. "You are called Link. You have no surname and no knowledge of your origins. You have no family. Your mentor, Captain Shayne, died before he could take you as his adopted son. Princess Zelda, the woman you love, has been wed to Prince Ashton of Vandelius…"

"No," Link gasped, tears streaking his dirtied face. "I stopped her… I saved her…"

"That," his captor replied, "is what you wish to believe."

Again the magic seared through Link's weakened form, tearing another agonized scream from his throat —

I woke with a start, stunned to find myself in my darkened bedchamber. Rain pelted the balcony doors, and a deafening clap of thunder startled me again. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, willing my pounding heart to calm.

Link… I opened my mind to him, desperate for a response, but a barrier still stood between us. Whether Link meant to protect me, or whether his captor had somehow shut me out, I could not tell.

"I stopped her… I saved her…"

This was a vision I had not previously seen. Link's captor did not simply harm him; he tried to alter Link's memories, his sense of identity.

"Princess Zelda, the woman you love, has been wed to Prince Ashton of Vandelius…"

I flung the blankets aside and sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets with trembling hands.

How many times had he violated Link's mind, extracting his most personal thoughts and memories? How many truths had he twisted, sending Link into despair? Physical pain alone could not break Link, but I feared what such intense brainwashing would do to him...

"Where are you?" I whispered. How can I find you?

And then, like a flame sparking to life, I knew.

Ashton.

Surely he had brought Link directly to the figure in my visions. I imagined the two had somehow crossed paths and forged an alliance for personal gain.

Countless questions cluttered my mind, but in that moment I focused on one thought: He knows where Link is.

My interrogation would have to wait. Ashton had confined me to my chambers since my surrender; I could not confront him until he sent for me.

Hours had passed since his guards escorted me from the Audience Chamber, and I could only wonder what transpired beyond my chamber walls. Ashton had likely met with the Council, hoping to sway them with his elaborate lies. Or perhaps he forced their cooperation. He had become quite unpredictable... and more aggressive.

With a rush of anger I crossed the room to my bureau, snatching open the drawer which held both Valéshar and my own sword. I had hidden them under my traveling clothes, fearing the guards would confiscate them.

I grabbed my sword and drew it from its sheath, gazing into the blade as lightning flashed behind me. My reflection stared back with bright, determined eyes.

He will tell me where Link is, or I will bleed the answers from him.

xxxxxxx

Vasilis stormed down the main corridor of the castle's northern wing, coming to an abrupt halt when two Vandelian guards stopped him with their spears.

"Lord Ashton will see no one at this hour," one barked.

"He will see me," Vasilis snapped. "At least inform him I am here."

The guard frowned but moved to do so, and moments later Vasilis was allowed inside.

A roaring fire burned in the drawing room hearth — for the first time in nearly two years. Ashton stood beside it, fingering a glass of wine as he observed his carefully preserved surroundings. The room had been kept clean but otherwise left undisturbed since its last occupant passed away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Vasilis demanded once the doors had closed. "You cannot occupy the late King Nohansen's chamber. It shows a severe lack of respect."

Ashton scoffed. "I have no respect for the man who nearly destroyed my future."

"You are in no position to summon the court's resentment — they already see you as the enemy!"

"This is the king's chamber," Ashton said, anger sharpening his tone. "I am King of Hyrule, and so I will sleep here. They will have to accept that."

Vasilis glowered at him. "What is the real reason?" he spat. "So you can lay with the queen in his bed? Some sort of... personal victory for you?"

A smile crept across the young king's lips. "In Vandelius we call that tradition."

"And here we call it distasteful," Vasilis hissed.

Ashton turned to him, his green eyes narrowed with annoyance. "If you're so opposed to Vandelian traditions, old man, then why did you commit treason so I might claim Hyrule's throne?"

Vasilis averted his gaze toward the fire. "A union between Hyrule and Vandelius will solve all of our problems. The shadow of war would pass, our reputations in the Alliance would improve, and Hyrule would have a king of pure blood."

Ashton crossed his arms. "And what about your precious Rite of Kingship? Suppose your priests claim I don't pass?"

The minister gripped the fire mantel, staring into the flames. "We will have to avoid that somehow. The Rite of Kingship is an important tradition, but it's little more than religious superstition, outdated in this world. Anyone outside of Hyrule can't possibly honor something they don't understand. A private ritual should not determine who is king."

He turned to Ashton, wearing a look of utter seriousness. "Those with pure blood have ruled since the ancient times. That is how the gods distinguish those who follow from those who lead."

Ashton gave him a slow smile. "Indeed."

"However," Vasilis added. "The Alliance does not tolerate the use of forbidden magic, no matter who uses it. They will undoubtedly come to investigate, and you will need a convincing story."

"You take me for a fool?" Ashton scoffed. "I realized that long ago. The last thing I need is the Alliance breathing down my neck."

Vasilis arched a brow. "Then dare I ask what elaborate lie you've crafted?"

"Oh, come, Vasilis, it's really quite simple," Ashton said with feigned innocence. "I haven't a drop of magic in my blood — how could I possibly summon an army of the dead? The peasant, on the other hand…"

He met the minister's gaze, a devious glint in his eyes. "Why, he is more than capable, considering his talents."

Vasilis studied him a moment, pondering his suggestion.

"Yes…" he murmured. "It would not be difficult to cast suspicion upon him… There is no true evidence, nothing to prove his guilt or his innocence."

"The Alliance has long tired of the feud between our kingdoms," Ashton added. "The promise of peace along with generous monetary gifts should be enough to pass their investigation."

The minister frowned. "You mean to bribe them? They'll see right through it."

"That depends on how you present it. And to whom. How do you think my father kept Vandelius in the Alliance after the last war? He knew who to bribe and how to go about it." Ashton paused, crossing his arms with a scowl. "It's probably one of the few useful things he taught me."

Vasilis hesitated, unsettled by the thought of such corruption among the Alliance leaders. "With that sort of… support," he said quietly, "the Alliance might decide to stand by. At least until they have more reliable evidence…"

"And such evidence will never surface," Ashton grinned.

"No… Not as long as you've destroyed that second staff." Vasilis eyed the younger man with suspicion. "Can I assume you disposed of it?"

Ashton held his gaze, unfazed by the minister's tone. "Of course."

Vasilis hesitated, unwilling to trust his word alone, but he let the matter drop with a sigh. "All right. The hour is late; we will discuss how to deal with the Alliance tomorrow."

He moved to leave the room, slowing to a stop as Ashton settled into an armchair before the hearth.

"A word of advice," he said to the king's back. "Leave your… traditions back in your homeland. At least until the court has accepted you."

Ashton did not reply, which Vasilis accepted as compliance. Silently he opened the doors, glad to leave King Nohansen's old chambers. His footfalls echoed through the empty corridor, and with each step he felt his mind clear.

I will make a great king of you yet.

xxxxxxx

The tension was unbearable.

I sat in an armchair in my drawing room, my eyes fixed on the entrance doors. My right hand gripped my sword, letting the naked blade rest across my lap. My left hand pulsed with magic, ready to be expelled.

Ashton was coming, and I was prepared.

The Vandelian soldiers guarding my chambers had informed me of his impending visit, though they neglected to search my room for weapons. They even chose to wait in the corridor, giving me time to retrieve my sword. I felt more than ready to confront Ashton, but I worried about his guards. My failing magic had yet to improve, and I doubted I could handle more than three Vandelians.

And so I waited, hoping for the best.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor, and my muscles coiled with suspense. The doors swung open, and Ashton entered first, followed by two guards.

Perfect.

With feline agility I sprang to my feet, thrusting my arm out before me. A gust of magic swept the guards back into the corridor, hurtling them against the far wall. Then I drew my arm back, slamming the doors shut and sealing them with a barrier.

Shocked, Ashton looked at the doors and back to me, his mouth agape. "What the hell do you —"

I thrust my blade toward him, stopping just short of his neck. A strong dizzy spell swept over me, but fiercely I ignored it, forcing Ashton back against the wall.

"Where is he?" I shouted.

Ashton gave me a slow smile, regaining his smug demeanor. "You honestly think this will work?"

"I'm the one asking questions," I hissed, moving closer.

"And if I say nothing?" he sneered. "You'll what — slit my throat?"

In answer I pressed the blade flat against his neck — causing him to suck in a startled breath.

"I know what you did," I said, my eyes boring into his. "I know you bartered Link for that staff."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're—"

"Where did you take him?"

Again he smirked. "I've already told you — he's dead."

"I know he's alive. Stop the charade and tell me."

Ashton hesitated, his emerald gaze holding mine. Then his expression changed into a secretive, more devious grin.

"He gave his life freely, you know," he murmured. "I gave him a choice — his life or those of his soldiers. He destroyed that staff knowing it meant his complete surrender. He abandoned you, Zelda."

I stared at him, careful to mask my reaction. His words roused a cold, unpleasant feeling, but quickly I suppressed it.

"I asked you a question," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Answer it. Now."

Ashton merely grinned. "This is where you lose, Zelda. You will never find him because no one knows where he is. I myself have no idea. I delivered that peasant by use of magic — a temporary portal. It's gone now, as are your chances of ever finding him."

"Who orchestrated this?" I demanded. "Give me his name!"

"That I don't know either. I didn't care much, as long as he kept his end of the bargain."

I angled the sword against his throat, watching a drop of blood slide down the blade. "I should kill you," I hissed, "for what you did to him."

"But you won't," he said, a hint of discomfort in his voice. "It isn't in you."

"You don't know what I can do."

"I know what you can't do," he said with remarkable confidence, "and you are no murderer."

I hesitated but kept the blade at his throat.

"Your peasant chose to sacrifice himself as a prisoner of war," Ashton added, impatience sharpening his tone. "I barely harmed him at all — difficult as that was. If you're going to be angry with someone, be so with him."

Again I stared at him, aware of the blood pounding in my ears. That cold realization came creeping back, and I felt my resolve slip away.

He abandoned you.

Ashton saw the change in me and snatched my arm, shoving me to the floor. I landed hard, dropping my sword to catch myself with my hands. I did not try to retrieve it.

"Pathetic," Ashton muttered, smoothing his rumpled clothes.

I dug my nails into the rug, fighting a sudden wave of nausea.

Duty before desire.

I knew Link had made the right decision, sacrificing himself to spare so many others… and yet I felt the sting of betrayal. Of abandonment.

Ashton's boots entered my field of vision, but I refused to lift my head.

"As a gesture of goodwill," he told me, "I will overlook this aggressive display of yours. But attempt anything like this again, and you will regret it."

He paused, as though awaiting my acknowledgment, but I said nothing.

"I have arranged a meeting with your Council to discuss your future. I am willing to consider their advice as we move through this transition. You will attend for informational purposes only. I expect your full cooperation, or else you forfeit your status as Queen. You can begin by unsealing those doors."

I glanced toward them, realizing they had gone silent as the guards sought some other way to get inside. Finding no energy to argue, I silently released the barrier. Its golden glow faded as five guards burst inside with their weapons held ready. Quickly I struggled to my feet, steadying myself on a nearby chair.

"You will escort us to the Council Chamber," Ashton ordered them, speaking as though nothing had happened. "Make sure she follows."

Two guards moved to grab my arms while another took my sword.

"Touching her won't be necessary," Ashton murmured, eyeing the guards with disapproval. I heard the warning in his tone, possessive and cold.

Immediately they released me, muttering their apologies.

"Forget your beloved peasant, Zelda," Ashton then said, his gaze returning to me. "A new era has begun for Hyrule. I suggest you embrace it."

I watched him stride out of the room, following only when a guard prodded me with the hilt of my own sword. Reluctantly I moved my feet, too dispirited to resist.

I realized Ashton could have lied to me about Link, but my instinct told me he spoke the truth. Having considered his story, I began to doubt that Link's captor — someone who obviously preferred complete isolation — would reveal his whereabouts to someone as untrustworthy as Ashton.

I planned to force more information from Ashton, but I also hoped some better course of action would reveal itself to me. I prayed for Impa's swift return, and for the Alliance's intervention.

.

We arrived at the Council Chambers to find the ministers assembled as usual. They rose as we entered, and I noticed one empty chair at the far end of the table, plus another to its right. Ashton claimed the first, forcing me to sit perpendicular to him.

"My Lords and Ladies," he greeted the Council with a smile. "I have summoned you this fine afternoon to discuss one very important matter — a union between Lady Zelda and myself."

I froze, relieved to see the ministers looked equally shocked.

"A… A marital union, my Lord?" Elena stammered.

"Of course." Ashton smiled. "She is to be my queen. The arrangements should begin immediately."

"That will be quite impossible, Ashton," I spoke, regarding him coldly, "since I am still wed to my current husband."

He turned to give me a dark look, reminding me I had come to listen, not speak.

"As I have already informed you," he said with strained patience, "your late husband is very much deceased. In fact, while we're on that subject, I've decided to allow a small funeral in his remembrance. It will allow you and the rest of Hyrule to accept his death."

"There will be no funeral," I said coldly. "Unless I have my husband's remains, I refuse to acknowledge his death. Without my support, the public will never accept your claims."

"That's unfortunate," Ashton said, clearly unfazed, "since his body will be impossible to obtain."

The ministers shared unsettled glances, though Kinsley wore a hard, unreadable expression. I could only hope he shared my faith in Link's survival.

"My husband is alive," I said firmly. "Nothing you say will convince me otherwise."

Ashton gave me an amused smile. "Heavens, Zelda. Either your faith is truly steadfast, or denial has consumed you. I'm not sure which."

"Lord Ashton," Renae's gentler voice drew his attention, "even if Prince Link did fall in battle as you claim, Lady Zelda is not yet eligible for a second marriage."

Annoyance darkened Ashton's features. "And why is that?"

"She must enter into mourning. Courtly law deems a widow of royal status must mourn her husband for at least one year before she can resume any form of courtship or marriage."

Ashton studied her, clearly debating whether he should respect this particular law. I suspected he would, if only to gain some public approval.

"Perhaps," Vasilis spoke, "we could arrange a compromise. I propose that, due to the unusual circumstances, her Majesty mourns for six months — half the required time. Does that sound agreeable enough, my Lord?"

Ashton glanced toward him, his expression anything but agreeable. Then he turned back to me, and I tensed when he snatched my thigh beneath the table.

"She has three months," he growled. "Three months, and then she will be mine."

xxxxxxx

A week crawled by, each day no easier than the last. I spent most of that time confined in my chambers — praying, worrying, and waiting. I worried about my people and the changes Ashton would thrust upon them. I worried about our soldiers, who had yet to return home to their families. And I anguished over Link, who still haunted my dreams nearly every night.

My entire hope had been placed in Impa's return — and in the Alliance's interference. Potentially they could sever Vandelius' membership, which might inspire other kingdoms to help me reclaim my throne. Everything depended on whether they believed Ashton had used forbidden magic to command the undead. Ashton had surely come prepared for such an investigation, and I feared it would somehow amount to nothing.

Eventually Ashton permitted me to leave my chambers at will, always under the careful watch of at least two Vandelian soldiers. He often forced me to attend court with him, wearing me on his arm as he charmed the noble houses. A third of them had vanished the day Ashton usurped my throne, and those who remained observed their self-proclaimed king with critical, suspicious eyes.

If Ashton sensed their quiet resentment, he showed no sign of it. On the contrary, he showered favors upon every lord and lady — gifts, private dinners, and monetary rewards for their loyalty. He drew the money for these favors from the royal treasury, much to the Council's alarm — and mine. Eventually he would have to compensate for these losses, which could lead to higher taxes — a burden the middle class would struggle to bear. Unfazed by the Council's quiet protests, Ashton even promised an elaborate gala to celebrate his coronation — once he took the Rite of Kingship. His apparent willingness to honor our traditions delighted some, but others — myself included — doubted his sincerity.

In fact, many of them feigned delight to his face but whispered complaints in my ear.

"His Vandelian ways are not welcome here," they hissed, as though I had invited him. "Kill him when you have the chance."

I hid my exasperation. Murder would not solve our dilemma, not while Hyrule remained vulnerable. Our army was scattered, imprisoned, unable to defend us. Summoning the wrath of Vandelius would only lead to more bloodshed.

"The Alliance will interfere," I assured them. "This will not last." I hoped I appeared more confident than I felt.

The castle staff had also seen drastic changes. Everyone had been confined to their quarters, denied their salary, or even imprisoned until they swore allegiance to Ashton. Whether anyone had cooperated, I could only wonder. Ashton had taken extra precautions to ensure I knew very little about the world outside my chambers. No one spoke to me without his permission, and my guards prevented me from asking questions.

My imprisonment was a maddening existence, but I had yet to find a way out. I often considered fleeing the castle by use of magic, but I could not return without being discovered. With so little knowledge of the outside world, I feared my flight would do more harm than good.

My declining health also discouraged me from leaving the castle. I had grown pale, fatigued, and sometimes ill. My appetite had all but left me, and my insomnia worsened. Maddox had diagnosed it as the toll of constant stress. He advised Ashton to let me rest until my condition improved, but still he forced me to attend court with him.

Despite Ashton's efforts to present himself as Hyrule's "just conqueror," the public continued to reject him. Every day, from my drawing room window, I watched a crowd gather before the castle's outermost gate near Castletown, shouting protests and demands. Vandelian soldiers eventually chased them back into the town, but they always returned. Ashton let them protest, since even acknowledging them would suggest he felt threatened by them.

How long until they tire of it? How long until they give up and accept him?

That day came far sooner than I anticipated.

One morning I stood before my window to find the crowd had lessened significantly. Rain sometimes discouraged them, but so far not a drop had fallen, despite the ever clouded sky. What had Ashton done to make them lose heart so soon?

The townspeople were not the only ones who ceased their complaints. An odd silence had also fallen over the court — one induced by fear and uncertainty. Everyone seemed so conflicted, and the sudden change concerned me.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Come in," I called, turning from the window to see Ariella enter the room.

"Good afternoon, your Majesty," she greeted me with a curtsy. "I hope your health has improved this morning?"

I nodded. "Somewhat, thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it. I wanted to personally inform you that Lady Siena has come to visit, and she's requested an audience if you are feeling well enough —"

"Siena?" I breathed. Any friendly visit was a welcome change, but Siena Bard, Clef's wife, was a particular delight.

"Lord Ashton has already been notified," Ariella assured me, "and Lady Siena has been briefed on what she can or cannot discuss." She gave me a small, sympathetic smile, unseen by the guards behind her. "Your guards will be present, of course."

I nodded. "Of course."

"She is waiting in the gardens. Shall I bring her to you?"

"No, I will go to her," I replied, reaching for my cloak. "I could use the fresh air."

I thanked her and left the room, aware of my guards falling in step behind me. My heart fluttered as I descended the stairway, careful to keep my hand on the rail.

Siena and I met years ago, shortly after Link and I began our secret courtship. He had invited me to attend a party with him at the Red Phoenix — the inn run by Siena and her brother, Jareth. Link had arranged everything with Clef and Siena in advance, and I was able to come disguised as a dark haired peasant girl. Clef and Siena had been the only people Link and I trusted with our secret — other than Impa and the late Captain Shayne.

Despite knowing who I was, Siena had greeted me with genuine warmth — no reservations, no deception, no awkward courteousness. We placed our social status aside, spoke to each other as equals, and I had cherished her friendship ever since.

Reaching the nearest door to the gardens, I stepped outside into the fresh midday air. Spring had begun its gradual return, and the gardens had regained some of their former beauty. Green buds and colorful blossoms breathed life into each courtyard, though a sunny blue sky had yet to break through the clouds.

Siena stood by a fountain, watching its upward stream fill the pristine pool. She was a slender, petite young woman — tiny when compared to her husband. Her light brown hair had been pinned atop her head in a loose knot, though several wisps had come loose, framing her pretty face. She appeared unchanged since our last meeting, though I could see her normally cheerful demeanor had left her — and with good reason.

"Siena," I called to her softly.

She turned to me, managing a smile as we shared a close, sisterly embrace. I lingered a moment, suppressing a sudden rush of tears.

"It's so good to see you," I whispered.

"I tried to come sooner," she murmured, caressing my back. "They wouldn't let me past the gates."

"I'm sorry," I said as we pulled apart. "Ashton is… keeping me on a tight leash."

"I can see that," she muttered, glancing toward the guards. "Come, let's sit a while."

She led me to a nearby bench, and I heard the guards move within earshot as we sat down. I sighed quietly, realizing how very quiet the garden seemed, as though even the birds mourned Ashton's intrusion. Or perhaps they've left entirely.

"You don't look well," Siena said, touching my cheek. "Are you sure we shouldn't go back to your chambers?"

I shook my head. "I spend more than enough time there."

She nodded, her pale green eyes searching my face. "Oh, Zelda, you must have been stressed half to death these past several days... And there's been such awful talk about Link... You don't believe any of it, do you?"

"You mean Ashton's claim that he died in battle?" I shook my head. "Link is alive; that much I know."

She nodded. "Don't you give up on him. I never believed that nasty rumor for a minute."

"Rumor?" Instinctively I grabbed her arm, feeling I had missed something important. "What rumor?"

Surprise crossed her face, then fear as the guards closed in on us. "I'm sorry; I thought you knew —"

"Speak of that again," the closest guard warned, "and this visit is over."

"Speak of what?" I demanded, glaring at them. "Siena, what are they saying about Link?"

"Never mind that now," she assured me, taking my hands in hers. "Link is alive; that's all that matters. You'll hear about that other nonsense soon enough. Please... tell me what you do know."

I hesitated, recognizing the desperate look in her eyes. Of course...

"Oh, Siena," I whispered. "You must be worried sick about Clef..."

She nodded, and the hope in her face made my heart ache.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "All I know is our soldiers haven't returned home. Ashton has demanded they swear allegiance to him in exchange for their freedom. I've tried to reason with him, but he never listens to me."

"He'll never do it," she choked. "Clef will never swear his allegiance to Ashton. It would mean betraying Link, betraying you..."

"Siena, he has you and the children to think about," I said softly. "Link and I would understand; he knows that..."

"He also knows it won't be that simple," she wept. "What does allegiance mean to Ashton? Keeping our heads down? Fighting our friends? It would mean betraying everything we hold dear, and Clef won't do that, Zelda; he won't..."

She buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. Gently I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, caressing her arm as I struggled to find a comforting response.

"...Even if he did swear loyalty," Siena continued, wiping her tears. "There's no guarantee that he would come home. I don't even know where he's being held. Vandelle doesn't have enough cells to hold our entire army... I heard they were sent to a prison on some faraway island —"

"That's enough," one of the guards snapped, grabbing Siena by the arm.

"Stop it!" I said. "She hasn't said anything I don't already know!"

"Lord Ashton allowed her one hour," the guard barked.

"Then release her and give us an hour!"

"Zelda, I'm so sorry..."

Siena's voice grew suddenly distant, as though water had filled my ears. The gardens tilted sideways, and I felt a guard catch my arm to steady me.

"Lady Zelda?" His harsh, warped voice grated over Siena's muffled cries.

I sank onto the bench, holding my head as I fought to dispel my dizziness. "Siena..." I stammered.

And then, a flash —

He lay on the altar, thrashing against his bloodied shackles, crying my name...

Zelda!

I lifted my head, expecting to find him before me. "Link?" I whispered.

Zelda! His hoarse, desperate cries filled my ears, everywhere yet nowhere.

"Lady Zelda!"

Something deep inside me began to slip, something precious... Something I fought to hold onto...

A hooded figure reached into his cloak, retrieving a small dagger with a quiet, sinister laugh. Slowly, as though relishing the moment, he unsheathed the weapon, revealing a dark blade.

"How ironic," he grinned, "that your greatest strength would be your only weakness…"

That feeling within me continued to fade, seeping away like sand through a clenched fist. With a rush of horror I recognized it —

The bond. Our bond...

Link! Desperately I reached for him, crying his name again and again. Link!

"Zelda..." he wept, his body limp with exhaustion. "No... Zelda, please..."

My knees hit the ground as I fought to make contact. Link, I'm here! I'M HERE!

The figure lowered his dagger, staining the blade as he broke Link's flesh. Slowly he dragged it across Link's heart, savoring his weak, anguished cries...

"LINK!"

My scream pierced the air as the bond shattered within me. I felt myself hit the ground, barely aware of the muted voices above me. My awareness centered on one change alone:

I no longer felt Link's spirit.

His warmth was gone; he was utterly gone. I sensed no lingering trace of him, not even a whisper. I felt only emptiness. Nothingness.

It was too much… too much…

"Link…"

Blackness took me, and I knew no more.