Chapter 1 - Disinterment of the Viper Queen

 Over a century had passed.


A century of waiting. Longing. Yearning. Fighting.


Waiting.

Struggling, with one hope left in the princess’ heart.


And that hope had been tended and sown, growing into what would eventually end her perpetual torment. Link… He destroyed the calamity. Peace had returned to Hyrule - a quiet peace. Monsters no longer stalked the roads; blood moons no longer hung over the land like the malevolent eye of a scornful god. Malice no longer choked the ruins of what had once been their proud kingdom of Hyrule.


Now, the princess realizes, her kingdom of Hyrule. 


It took quite a while for the realization to dawn on her that she was queen regent to the Hylian throne. Prolonged, in part, by the time she took to rest following the final showdown with Ganon. She’d been sustained by divine heritage alone for the past century - walled in on all sides by a profane manifestation of untold epochs of rancor and threatened by the beast that tore her kingdom down. The least she could do to recover was sleep for a day or two.


When the princess was satiated, the first thing she set her sights on was the open road. Link had become something of an expert in recent months. If she was the ruler of Hyrule - she wanted to know just what was left of it. Link was her personal guide as they roamed the land that had been so easily reclaimed by nature - finding the remnants of civilization, big and small. While daunted by the prospect of managing foreign relations for the first time in her life - the relationships Link had formed throughout his quest made it easy for others to place their faith in the princess, who sought to rebuild the kingdom to its prior glory.


Over a year has passed.


In the empty field that had once been Castle Town, tents lay strewn far and wide - a proud and growing camp stretching from the edge of the ruined walls as far northward as the edge of the castle’s moat. Every day, workers made their way across a reassembled drawbridge to the castle - that bustled with more life than it had in the past century. Hylian and Goron smiths refashioned and replaced the aged stone, carpenters came to furnish the room, ravaged by time, while the scant few antiquarians among them carefully restored that which could be salvaged. Rito raced between the castle towers, affixing freshly-spun banners and flags bearing Hylian heraldry - dawning over what the princess promised and aspired to be a new golden age.


Rather than take refuge in her old room, Zelda had settled into a spot among the work camp. Her new home didn’t offer terribly much in the way of comfort - but it did provide for her everything she desired. A few salvaged bookcases lined the walls of her tent, and a table sat in the center; with a beautifully-rendered map of Hyrule strewn out upon it… Albeit buried by a number of maps and time-worn documents she’d left strewn upon it. Perhaps the newest thing in the room was her bed. While an especially simple construction - it was crafted for her by a carpenter Link seemed to have an especially high opinion of. While the especially flamboyant gentleman seemed excited to make a bed fit for a princess… It was by Zelda’s decree that it be more utilitarian than grandiose. 


It felt… Wrong for her to throw herself into the life of royalty. Moreover - it felt wrong for her to be so close to the castle. Every instant she’d spent in their under Ganon’s watch - keeping the beast sealed - was another bad memory; too many for the princess to count. While she realized her responsibility was to her… To these people, who placed their faith in her, she wasn’t quite flush with faith in herself. Besides - her studies as a princess were catered to fostering her divine heritage in the event of Ganon’s return. Saving the kingdom was always her duty; ruling it was… A second thought. 


The princess leaned over her table, looming over a rendering of the castle. Numerous bits of paper were pasted over it - notes and renovations from the architects. She was surveying them, but they were doing the real work here. Put in such a position, she wondered if she’d be better off putting more effort into planning for the future; when the construction was finished. If she was to be a queen, she’d have to take a great many things into account. Trade, military, taxation - how does one even create a tax code, she wonders? She places a hand upon her forehead wearily - it all felt like a little too much for her.


A lance of orange light streaked across the table; the flap of her tent cast aside and inviting the evening in, if only for a moment. “Link?” Zelda muses before even looking up, and when she did…


She was just a little disappointed. Frankly, she should’ve known better. Link was off on an adventure of his own - seeking secrets of the Sheikah that might help toward the reconstruction effort. Brushing aside the flap was a Hylian woman - Janis, if Zelda recalled. She was a traveller - spent most of her time on the roads. She certainly looked the part. She dressed plainly; durable riding boots, dark pants, breathable shirt - and a backpack big enough to live out of. 


“Good evening, my liege.” Zelda winced at the title. Not only was she not used to it - but she made a point to convince those with whom she dealt that no title was necessary. Until there was a kingdom to rule, she asserted, she wasn’t befitting of a ruler’s title. She hadn’t interacted with Janis much - but she was sure the traveller had gotten the point by now.


Zelda raised a hand, waving gently. “Please; there’s no need for formality.” she begins. “What can I do for you?”


An impish smile crawls across Janis’ face, and she shifts the weight of her pack onto one shoulder, the momentum causing her to list to one side before she finally drops it to the ground, digging around. “Nothing! The real question is - what can I do for you. Lucky for both of us; I have the answer too.” Janis pulls an even, rectangular block of metal from her pack - Zelda looks past the sediment and rust that seems to have caked onto it - finding a familiar icon on its back, though flipped upside-down for the moment. 


“A Sheikah Slate?” she muses excitedly. It’s true that they were exceedingly rare nowadays - the last one she’d seen was Link’s. What few still remained, she’d feared, wouldn’t be in operable condition, but with the touch of the princess’ finger, orange light began to circulate through the grooves upon it; the slate vibrating gently. Janis tentatively takes a step back - as though expecting it to burst. Mercifully - it begins to settle down; the light upon it softly pulsating, giving off the same tone as the sky outside.


Janis clears her throat, taking a step forward. “I found it in the desert.” she explains. “Buried in one of those old temples. The workers - they said you have a thing for Sheikah…” She motions to the slate. “Things. When I saw it was working, I figured you’d know what to do with it, but when I was on my way here…” She leans over and flips the slate upside-down; revealing its smooth screen - though scored by a series of wicked scratches. “I found this.” Dragging her finger across it, she pulls up a map of Hyrule - though incomplete. Only chunks of the map remained - with a scant few landmarks listed within them. It was a far cry from the… Decidedly comprehensive map Link had provided the princess upon their journey.


The state of the device seemed to speak for itself. To call it ‘working’ might be… Generous. A tentative look came over the princess’ face, and she was prepared to thank Janis for bringing it to her - and hope that someone like Purah could get it working again, but, before the words had a chance to leave her lips, Janis’ finger comes down upon the screen, and it erupts into a shower of orange light. At first, Zelda didn’t know what she was looking at - but as Janis continues to manipulate the image, it becomes… The slightest bit clearer.


“I heard those temples can go down for miles.” Janis begins, continuing to smile. “And Hyrule’s an old place. A kingdom built on kingdoms. I think whoever owned this thing, a hundred... “ She turns one hand over. “Thousand years ago… Lived down there. And they made-”


Zelda takes the slate in both hands. “A map.” she blurts out. Much like the in-depth rendering of Hyrule Castle Link’s slate had - which greatly aided the architects in the reconstruction - this slate seems to have a comprehensive map of a labyrinthine network of cave systems spanning Hyrule. Zooming out as far as she could, she could see a web of tunnels interspersed by large caverns, reaching from the far northern reaches of Hebra all the way down to Faron. They were most densely concentrated in central Hyrule; and oddly, the denser concentration seemed to extend southwest into the desert. If a Sheikah spelunker really owned this; perhaps that’s why Janis found it where she did. Zelda looks up from the slate, a bright look in her eyes. “This is amazing.” The excitement she felt looking it over was… Nostalgic. Despite the rigors of being groomed as a divine heir, Zelda’s time in the castle offered for her a few reprieves in which she could immerse herself… That she could enjoy. One of them was studying the Sheikah; what secrets they and their technology held. Coming across something like this would’ve made her jump for joy, over a century ago…


But back then, she couldn’t have done anything about it. Bound by duty; and by fate, she’d never have gotten a chance to explore the possibilities this had to offer. And now… 


The look of excitement drained from her face, and she looked back down to the slate. Now, she had other responsibilities. To her people; to her kingdom. Zelda felt a dull feeling creep through her body as she laid the slate down, earning a look of confusion from Janis. “Yes, well…” she begins, trying to collect herself. “I’ll… See if I can rally some spelunkers. Link should return sometime within the month, I’ll see if he…”


“Hold on-” Janis cuts her off; her voice becoming momentarily shrill. “See- here, take a look at this.” She rolls the map over to the Gerudo region, to a point just between the highlands and the desert proper. A webwork of tunnels seem to circle a number of wide, open caverns; Above it hung a word in Sheikah script. It’d surprise Zelda if Janis knew what they meant, but… Even if her Sheikah was rusty, the princess caught on.


“Temple.” she uttered, looking quizzically to Janis. 


The traveller nods. “It looked big - so I asked around Gerudo town about this area. They say… This place is the burial ground of leaders. Old kings and queens. More importantly -” While Zelda expects mention of treasure, she’s disarmed by Janis’ conclusion. “their records and memoirs.” She steps back, spreading her arms. “Imagine - the collective knowledge of the biggest and best rulers of the kingdom.” Pointing at Zelda, she almost coos. “All yours for the taking.”


Zelda gulped dryly. Was that true? She’d spent plenty of time in Gerudo Town before. Plenty of time under Urbosa’s care - and she never heard of it. That was over a hundred years ago - a legend would be fresher then… Though, when a legend’s age is in the thousands, a century didn’t mean much. Perhaps they never thought to address it with her? The location of dead royalty probably wasn’t the most inspiring thought to a young princess. Even so, she didn’t need Janis’ insistence to drive home just how useful such a place could be. 


Just as one weight had been lifted from her shoulders; another had been placed squarely upon them, but unlike the last burden she had to carry, she had no preparation - and not even an instinct of where to start. The royal family began and ended with her, and unless the antiquarians unearthed something from the royal library that wasn’t another cookbook, then it was imperative that she find something to prepare her for her royal duties. 


A bashful smile rolled across her lips - she couldn’t fight it, and did what she could to hide it with her hand. If she had to explore an ancient crypt to do so - then so be it. Wordlessly, Zelda turned away from the slate and toward a chest, throwing open the lid and beginning to rifle around in it. Janis approached the table, leaning over and craning her neck upward to get a better view of what the princess was getting… Until Zelda held it up - a travelling cloak.


The princess throws it around her shoulders, brushing back the hood quickly as she continues to search her chest. “Do you know if Sarissa is still here?” she calls over her shoulder.


“Who?” 


Zelda stops for a moment, affixing a bottle to her belt. “Sarissa - the Gerudo. You departed with her caravan during your last trip.” She pauses, tapping her chin. “Was it one month ago? Or was it longer…” Janis seems to take a step back; but pauses when the princess gives a gentle wave. “Ah, I’ll find out soon enough. I suppose I’m due for an expedition!”


The traveller breathes a sigh of relief. “Desert-bound, are we, my liege?” she muses. 


Zelda gives an affirming hum. “I’m the resident expert on Sheikah technology and the Hylian crown. Excursions like this require an expert’s touch!” She dons a quiver full of arrows and whips around with a bow, causing Janis to juke to the side to avoid her line of sight. The princess seems too caught up in her excitement to notice. She marches forward, shouldering the bow and delicately picking up the slate. “Thank you again - you have no idea how much this means to me-” She pauses, looking away from the slate and to the traveller. “How much it means to the kingdom.” An impish grin of her own spreads over her face as she races off to find the Goron foreman; she had to let at least one person know she was gone. 


The tent flaps billow as she runs off, leaving Janis to rub her forehead wearily. The faintest hint of a seam appears along her chin, before she removes her hand, shaking her head. “Mission accomplished.” she murmurs darkly, abandoning the tent. As Zelda makes her way toward the caravans - one travelling Hylian disappears amongst all the others in the work camp; her presence never registered.







The trip took the better half of two days. Zelda managed to join a caravan departing for Gerudo Town as it was leaving - and it didn’t take much convincing for them to allow the princess to tag along. They travelled by road for about a day - arriving at the bazaar by nightfall. Zelda spent the night with them - and by morning, found a guide among the Gerudo willing to take her to the exact point of entry the map outlined. 


True to her suspicion, her guide didn’t have any reaction to the location - or knowledge of the legend. Although; she did offer the princess a grain of wisdom from an aged warrior - “The entire desert is the burial ground of great warriors. One must take great care to honor them; or if nothing else - take care not to offend them.” The graveness with which she spoke sent a shiver down Zelda’s spine, even in the imperious heat of the desert. 


Heavy winds set in within a few hours of their journey; bringing with it a deluge of sand. Posts bearing tattered banners led the guide through the torrent, and Zelda was led with one hand firmly clasped around the warrior’s. By the time they arrived at the entrance, the sandstorm had subsided; though grains still poured off of the travellers’ clothes in rivulets. The entrance was… Much what Zelda expected. It wasn’t a Sheikah shrine - or any sort of recognizable Gerudo structure; rather, a decline bored into the mountain itself, with sand offering a gentle slope into its dark recess. Zelda’s guide offered to venture inward for protection - but the princess herself stopped her. 


Monsters no longer plagued even the darkest corners of Hyrule. Animals remained a persistent threat to the traveller; but alertness was the best provision against that. That, of course, and a bow. Zelda was confident that she was well-prepared the journey - by virtue of her keenness, equipment, and… Well, her more unique qualities. Since awakening her divine heritage, it became a persistent part of her. She had at her disposal potent sealing magic, and lesser powers of radiant sorcery. If it was suitable to deal with the Calamity, she wagered, it was enough to deal with some pests.


Zelda slid down the sandy slope; the disturbance enough to prompt a gentle cascade behind the princess. She brushed her hood back - knocking some sand out of it in the process - and swept her hair back. It was a considerably easier feat, given her recent… Restyling. Attached though she was to her long hair - her new style was much better suited to her travels. 


“However long they’ll last.” Zelda thought coldly. She hefted a hand high and conjured a sphere of light; casting radiant illumination across the cavern. To her immediate disappointment, she found little of interest - smooth, stony walls beckoned inward and downward; lacking any distinguishing marks - Hylian or Gerudo. 


As Zelda worked her way inward, doubt nagged at the back of her mind - echoes of worries she’d had on her journey here. It was strange that Hylian royalty would have been buried so close to the Gerudo. Despite long-standing peace; she’d understood that there was… Bad blood running deeper than that, between their people. It was for reasons she couldn’t quite fathom, but it was tangible among nobility when she was a child. It was rather confusing - given how Urbosa cared for her. She tried to keep the thoughts at bay as she advanced.


Eventually, Zelda came to… What seemed to be a cave-in. Rubble sat in a dense pile; nearly up to the ceiling. There were small crevasses between the stone - and they seem to have sat for so long that sediment between them almost seems to have fused them together. Faced with a nearly impassable wall, Zelda rushes up to it, biting her lip. She reaches down to pull one of the stones away - and though she yanks at it; all it rewards her with is a pair of sore hands. 


As she takes a step back, she looks around - and while a solution to this problem seems elusive as ever, she does manage to make one thing out. Smooth grooves run across one of the stones she’d been working at - and, as she squints closer, she can barely make out… Words. The script is Hylian for sure; but… Archaic. So much so that she could hardly make anything out - but their presence told her more than the meaning ever could. This was the place - that much she was sure of. 


She retrieves the Sheikah slate and fiddles with it cautiously - hoping it might store a little more than a map, and…


The air around it fizzles, and an orange bomb generates at her feet. It flickers; with entire patches of its luminescent body seeming to be missing. Gently, the princess punts it toward the rubble and steps back, poking the slate… While also holding it between her face and the blast.


After a second of delay, she’s rewarded with a satisfying blast - and an immediate torrent of rubble. With a sickening crack, the stones dislodge from each-other and tumble down. Zelda yelps as one tumbles off of the top of the pile, narrowly avoiding crushing her. She retreats further back until the dust settles - but once it does… A smile spreads over the princess’ face. 


Though worn and weathered by time, a structure sits before her - the remnants of a doorway. Half of a wooden door sits, pitted and chipped, on one end of it; while the other half lies splintered on the ground. From the way sand is strewn through the wreckage - it’s clear this happened quite a while ago.


The dark caverns transitioned quickly into… Likewise-dark halls. They were composed largely of grey brick; but time has doubtlessly proven the temple’s enemy - some of the masonry has collapsed in on itself; revealing sandstone walls behind it. The air is stale - as she moved deeper; mustier and even faintly metallic. She followed the map through the halls - taking the shortest route into the largest cavern - the one over which the label of ‘Temple’ hung. 


A twist here, a turn there - and Zelda found herself staring out into an open area. Her mouth opened wide as she stepped into it - though her light didn’t shine far, she found herself in a… Grand mausoleum. Coffins of thick stone were interred within the walls, and a grand staircase led ever-upward into the shadows; to more levels and more coffins. Sitting before the staircase was a statue of the goddess - a… Warm, peaceful sight amongst all of this uneasy peace. She made her way up the staircase slowly, her hands trembling around the Sheikah slate - not out of fear; rather, excitement. This had to be what she was looking for - what she’d come all this way to find. As the staircase moved ever-upward, she wondered what might be at the end. A massive bookcase full of tomes and scrolls? A doorway to a library? A Sheikah device? She couldn’t wait to get there…!


But her destination didn’t seem any closer. She looked behind her - and there was a disorienting lack of definition downstairs as well. The small sphere of light she had was all she had of the world, for the moment…


And then, it went out.


Zelda felt her breath catch in her throat. Despite the sheer scale of the mausoleum, she could hear her shuddering exhale reverberating as though the walls were mere feet away. Looking around the pitch darkness was disorienting - at first, it was so absolute that she couldn’t tell whether her eyes were even open. Yet, the longer she stared, the more definition became apparent - but not the shapes of the steps and coffins; but nebulous shapes writing in the darkness.


Shakily, Zelda raised a foot, and placed it down on the next step. She gave a sigh of relief when she discovered that a next step was there for her. It was with this renewed confidence in the world around her that she took her next step, and her next after that. Zelda clasped her hands - feeling them trembling against each-other as she tries to conjure another sphere of light - but the shade around her seemed so dense and all-consuming that it kept her from manifesting a single sliver of light. She kept trying, however, all until… 


Light blossomed between her fingers, shredding the darkness into wicked shapes. The princess winces as her eyes adjust, regaining her bearings - until she finds herself facing something new.


Someone new. Or, perhaps ‘new’ was the wrong word. The face staring back at her is desiccated - flesh leathery and drawn until it clings tightly to the bone and sinew beneath. Stringy, silvery hairs spill down its nearly-bare scalp until it reaches its shoulders. A moth-eaten robe clings to its skeletal form - but above it is a much denser covering. Rusted chains, beads, and innumerable seals keep it constrained. A piece of metal - littered with gashes - sits between its few remaining teeth; and a blindfold over its eyes - clinging tight enough to make their emptiness clear to the princess. The faintest details of the corpse are clear to the princess… Given she was a mere inch or two from it. 


Zelda can’t hold back a yelp of shock as she staggers back - immediately gripped with a cold sense of fear. If not just for the shock of coming face to face with the corpse, then certainly for how close she’d been to the stairs. Falling backwards, she anticipates a fast tumble downward…


But she ends up flat on her ass. The Sheikah slate on her belt clacks against the floor - dislodged from her belt and skittering forward. Zelda doesn’t take more than a moment to regain her composure and lunge for it - but before her hand reaches it, it begins to jitter and shake again. The orange light returns to its surface - but more concerningly… It seems to be evoking the same light in the space between stones on the ground. Slowly, the light cuts jagged lines across the floor, moving slowly toward the corpse - and the stony coffin embedded in the wall it seems to be interned in.


As soon as the light comes into contact with it, Zelda feels her stomach sink. The faintest strands of orange light - like bars - erupt in the air, extending from the edges of the coffin. As quickly as they appeared - they shattered into fine fragments. Once more, Zelda’s light fades - but by now, it’s unneeded. Light, like flames, erupt across the seals, burning them away. Chains of beads snap - sending them scattering into the blackness around them. The rusted chains themselves remain - but suddenly; violently, they’re shaken as the mummified creature lashes out, its decrepit wrists struggling against its bondage. So long have the chains sat that the rust and sediment upon them cascades off of them like dust - revealing just how deep the metal has decayed away.


The creature’s neck jitters as it moves its head for the first time in ages; evoking soft popping as it looks down to the prone princess. Though a blindfold sat over its pitted eyes, Zelda can feel its gaze resting tangibly upon her. Though its teeth are still buried in the metal bit in its mouth - she can hear rasping words spring from the darkness - as though bored clear into her head.


“Heir to the imprisoner…” The words follow a resounding, dissonant tone, echoing through the mausoleum. “I am Jais Zhaima. Queen of vipers. First of the Yiga.” Its voice bears a rattling, decrepit tone made worse as its body draws a hissing breath past the bit. “In the name of Lord Ganon… I will excise that which you bear."


Jais throws their body against their bondage once more - and with the force of a creature half their age and twice their size, the aged steel buckles, skittering across the floor. The decrepit ‘queen’ tumbles onto the ground - and Zelda staggers back up onto her feet, bolting away. She stumbles her first few steps, unsure of where the stairs begin, and understandably not wanting to tumble down the massive staircase - but as she flees, she finds the ground… Much more even than it had been before. It gives her the confidence to run headlong into the darkness, hearing the clumsy slapping of the pursuing Yiga.


Regret was fresh in her mind for falling into this trap - but it wasn’t a priority. She’d have time to chide herself later - now, she had bigger priorities. She had to flee. To where - she didn’t know, but running was worlds better than letting Jais catch up. Her riding boots beat heavily upon the stone floor, guiding her further and further from the only source of light in this damned tomb, until…


She didn’t have any ground beneath her feet.


The last trick of the darkness hid a ledge from her - and the moment her foot failed to connect with the ground, she tipped forward. Reaching nothing beneath, she was propelled further and further into the darkness - even taking a blind leap of faith and planting her other foot firmly down on the ground didn’t stop her momentum. Time seemed to slow - the disorientingly-thick blackness before her rushed closer and closer… Until she stopped.


For a moment, the princess was thankful.


Then, she registered the withered hand grasping her cloak.


“Your ancestors would have teleported.” the haggard voice chides. “I pray time has not weakened your bloodline.” With a harsh yank, Jais pulls Zelda back onto solid ground, sending her sliding a few feet backward. Before she has a chance to rise, Jais perches over her, placing a leathery hand upon her forehead. Immediately - a dizziness sets in. Beyond fatigue; beyond fear - the princess’ mind feels clouded. 


A pulse of sickly green plays at the corner of her vision. Greenish embers begin to flit around the Yiga’s wrists - and Jais puts as much effort as they could muster into pulling the corners of its mouth into a smile. “I think you’ll do just fine.”


Zelda feels a chill circulating through her body - freezing her down to her bones. The embers swirl fiercer and more plentifully - spreading out from Jais’ wrist to their arm - then in a twisting vortex reaching toward the tomb’s walls, casting it in a supernatural glow. Distantly; dully, Zelda can hear a pounding, like a heartbeat. Rising, louder and louder, each time, as the ground beneath her begins to shake.


“With this breath… With this vessel…” Jais rasps; voice booming in Zelda’s mind. “I curse the goddess - and all who serve her!” The embers surge inward; coalescing around the Yiga, and with one forceful pull, tears away from Zelda. Thrown into motion, Zelda’s hands leap to where the Yiga had theirs planted upon her forehead… But felt no wound; felt nothing different. Her eyes widened, however, as she gazed upon Jais.


The Yiga was a radiant silhouette of eerie green light, and clasped in their clawed hand was a brilliant, nebulous figure of gold. Both the luminescence surrounding Jais and the figure in their hand began to dissolve away into motes of light - swirling about and intermingling as they moved further and further away. The green essence writhed like snakes; corralling and guiding the golden light down paths that hung like tendrils in the air. As more of the light peeled away from Jais, the decrepit Yiga appeared… Much less decrepit.


Their flesh had grown pale; soft and supple. Their hair; once brittle and stringy spilled down in voluminous, straight locks. Gentle swells of muscle arose beneath their skin, amid a figure bearing generous curves. Jais raises a hand to their mouth and finally removes the metal bit, casting it aside and taking a deep, soft breath. “Be thankful, princess…” Jais said; her voice drooling with pride and venom. “No longer shall her burden rest upon your shoulders..”
Zelda’s hands lower from her forehead as the reverberating thudding continues to grow, even without Jais’ touch. In the new, otherworldly light, Zelda can see coffins lining the walls - their lids jumping with every beat. She tries to stand - but is immediately floored. Her strength seems to be draining away - and this time, it’s blackness that encroaches upon her vision, swallowing up more and more of her field of view. 


“N-...” she grunts, rolling onto her side. “No…” Before her vision goes black, a heavy thud rocks the tomb. One of the coffins’ lids jumps up and lands off to the side. Zelda can just barely register a gnarled, leathery hand crawling out…


And then, darkness.







Before she registers anything else - Zelda makes note of how cold she feels. It’s just a moment after that that she jolts upward; regaining consciousness. Her arms reflexively curl around her body; tucking inward as a shuddering exhale escapes her lips. She remains on the ground; curled up for a few minutes… And then, tentatively, she opens her eyes.


The first thing she realizes is that she wasn’t anywhere in the temple she’d been before. It was a rather small, stony room - small being relative to the cyclopean architecture she’d been ogling throughout her journey - with coffins lining the walls. 


Her next discovery is that she was inside one of these coffins. 


It was a thick, stone construction - sized proportionally to a Hylian of her stature. The sides rose up about two feet from the base of it, and the lid seemed to be resting beside it; on the ground. As soon as Zelda stood to exit it, she could feel something shifting around her. Her mind promptly and instinctively presuming insects - she reflexively beat at her clothes; along her stomach and sides, where she felt the shifting…


But when she looked down, all was clear. Perhaps… Too clear, as she could see her navel, plain as day. “What in Hylia’s name…?” she blurts out; the soft sound echoing in the cramped room. Looking into the base of the coffin, she could clearly see what caused the sensation - scraps of her clothing littered the bottom. She tentatively grabbed at her shirt - causing a couple threads to come loose - and looked it over. It certainly wasn’t the same garment she’d put on before her trek through the desert. The rich, vibrant blue shade had faded to a pale cyan - showing patches of white infrequently; or perhaps it was just so threadbare it seemed transparent. Stitches were clearly coming apart - if they haven’t completely divorced themselves already. To call the garments moth-eaten would be generous; they looked positively rotted away.


This brought a new, unsettling context to a question she’d been preparing to ask. “How long have I been here?” She crawls out of the coffin, leaning over the side…


And feeling the seam of her pants give way, prompting her to wince. 


Sluggishly, she rolls over the side, grunting as she makes it over. Her feet brush aside a fine layer of dust on the floor - she isn’t sure if it’s a proper indication of time; it’s not too thick, so perhaps she hasn’t been here long… Or there’s simply been nothing around to generate dust. After all - to her knowledge, she was the last person to plumb the depths of this damned temple…


But- Zelda’s eyes widen. She might not have been the last to leave. The thought certainly isn’t comforting. If Zelda had learned nothing from her scant studies of Hylian history, it’s that anything sealed to a tomb most likely isn’t interested in sticking around once it’s free. 


Zelda wills her feet into motion, moving toward the doorway. Before she crosses it, she pauses, looking around the corner. What was readily apparent was that she seemed to be in one room among many in a long corridor; but another revelation came quickly to the princess: the hall itself had no source of light.


Yet, she could still see clearly. The princess’ broad brow quirked in confusion. Obviously it was a simple affair for one’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, but… It could only do so much. What she was seeing came with clarity beyond reason. She looks downward, raising a palm. She balls her hand into a fist, trying to manifest a sphere of light… But, when she opens her hand, nothing is evoked. Conjuring such a simple trick was a matter of simple concentration for the princess now - but no matter how she tried… Nothing happened. The memory of Jais gripping that golden figure flashes in her mind - prompting another chill to roll down the princess’ spine. What had she done?


Zelda sighed. Whatever it was - Zelda had to stop her. In the worst case scenario - she had to warn somebody that could stop her. She moves around the corner, feeling a twinge of pain in her back as she does. Regardless of how long she’d been there, she figures; resting in a stone coffin probably didn’t do her any favors. 


Working her way down the hall, Zelda looked around for any landmarks. Nothing seemed familiar from her initial foray into the temple - but more… Damning iconography was becoming readily present. Though faded, a plate bearing an inverted Sheikah eye rested over the doorway to each tomb. Though time was of the essence - Zelda couldn’t help but peek into one of the other tombs. Much like the one she’d awoken in, all of the coffins seem to be open, with their lids scattered around. Some flipped, others slid off to the side. Others still had been shattered entirely. 


The princess didn’t like the thought of what might’ve broken them. Brushing her hand across her now stiff; cracked leather belt, she finds herself lacking the evidently-trapped Sheikah slate. Running along her back; she can’t seem to find her bow or quiver either. Upon this realization - her steps slow from the hurried gait she’d been maintaining; each one falling just a little lighter and more carefully. She’d have been worried if she was disarmed against animals that might call a place like this home… But Jais was, needless to say, a magnitude greater of a threat. Besides - there was no telling what she’d done with that odd power. The last thing she wanted to do was attract undue attention.


The princess grunted as her gait slowed further. Bracing herself against the wall, she takes a moment to breathe. Since leaving the tomb, she’d been feeling more drained than rested. The sensation was a seamless continuation of that odd, bleary feeling Jais had evoked within her regardless of how long ago it’d been evoked. She purses her lips - which feel dry; her mouth similarly parched.


Zelda ran her hand across her arm - bare; the sleeve having been reduced to tatters in her coffin - which felt dry. Her touch, combined with the stale air evoked a nagging, itchy sensation. Her well-manicured nails gently raked across her skin, scratching at it - but offered only momentary relief. She continued walking - and two tombs down, she began to scratch again. Her arms rose from her sides, crossing underneath her bosom as she continues.


At long last, she uncovers something beyond the tomb hall. Zelda arrived at tall, rounded room - the first thing to face her within it being a tall, stolid suit of armor. Its faulds extended clear from its rounded chestplate to the ground, and its gauntlets were wrapped firmly around the handle of an axe larger than the princess herself. Its helmet bore two uneven horns - and the odd number of holes within its faceplate all seemed to regard the princess with unseen eyes behind them. 


“Still with us, princess?” a smooth voice coos, causing Zelda to clutch her head. “I was worried we would have to permanently entomb you.” 


Biting her lip, Zelda looks up and around. “Show yoursel-” she begins, but something catches in her dry thought, causing her to cough. “Jais!” she rasps. 


“Please, princess. Save your breath. It’ll be much more useful to you later.” the Yiga responds, with all the concern of a busy parent to a child. “I have no interest in doing so. What spirit of adventure exists, when your goal lies just before you?” There’s a hot rush of air in the room; billowing downward from the ceiling. Wisps of eerie green smoke writhe downward, following the faintest sound of a long, low exhale. “I believe something more… Traditional is in order.”


Zelda moves deeper into the room, which seems to be some kind of… Guard chamber. That’s the only way she can describe it. A handful of worn, decaying tables and stools sit opposite the suit of armor, and a rack carrying rusted weapons sits along the wall. Weapons - Zelda moves toward them with the pace of a particularly hasty hobble. She reaches up to pull a shortsword off of the rack - and does; taking the wooden fixture with it and causing the structure to collapse, sending chips of wood and rusted metal scattering across the floor. She wraps her hand around the worn hilt of the sword, holding it aloft... For a moment, anyway, until the weight of the cumbersome sword drags her arm downward. She quickly snaps her other hand around the hilt, lifting it back up. 


“That’s the spirit.” Jais hisses. “I am nothing if not a product of my time. It is… Traditional for a figurehead of my people to impose a challenge upon a champion, is it not?” A low, rumbling chuckle circulates through the room - almost carried by the smoke. The thin tendrils move quickly, cutting through the air and swirling around the armor. Into the holes upon its faceplate the smoke rushes, and even before anything else, Zelda knows to quickly look for an exit.


The entrances to two halls sit on either side of the armor - one leading westward and the other eastward. Dust and rust sprinkles from the crevasse between its plates as it lurches into motion - its gauntlets shifting down the pole of its heavy axe. 


The chuckling rises into husky laughter as a boot - more pristine than the rest of the armor - extends from beneath its metallic skirt and takes its first step forward in millennia. “Find a way to escape this blighted place, o heir to the imprisoner.” Jais taunts. “In the name of Lord Ganon, I offer this trial.” The armor hefts its axe upward, bracing one gauntlet close to the head and the other in the center of the handle. 


Somehow, the princess felt under-equipped with her rusty sword.


Her first instinct is to take a step back - but as though to pursue, the revitalized Iron Knuckle follows suit. She didn’t know what lay at the end of the hall she’d come from - but she could tell that the wider hall would definitely accommodate the armor if it chose to pursue. The halls behind it, however… Had doors scaled for a woman of her stature. 


The princess bit her lip and held her blade aloft… And took a step toward the Iron Knuckle. Taking slow steps, she closes the distance between herself and the range of the axe. Predictably, the armor raises its weapon… And brings it down directly in front of it, cleaving into the ground - and mercifully, not the princess. Zelda had intended to lunge to the side while the attack was in motion - but the act was more akin to stumbling over. She hits the ground hard - and uses her sword as a support to lift herself up. 


The aged metal of the armor groans - almost as though the creature is confused, as Zelda staggers upward, her feet clapping clumsily on the ground as she races for the western door. With a stony grinding, the Iron Knuckle raises its blade again, allowing it to slide forward in its grip until its gauntlet met the pomel. Her pointed ears perking up at the metallic grinding, Zelda looked back - and caught the slightest bit of the armor’s windup before giving a wide, horizontal slash toward her. Reflexively - and futilely - the princess holds up a hand to block the impending force of the axe… But her frail limb does little to block the impact.


So powerful is the blow that it sends her careening across the floor, toward the eastern door. Shock coursing through her, Zelda looks down to her arm - and mercifully, it’s still attached. She didn’t feel any pain - and her fingers easily ball into a fist. Though relieved that she hadn’t taken any permanent damage - a glance from her arm to the mad armor revealed it holding its blade aloft once more, causing her to crawl across the floor until she got her ground and limped down the corridor. The princess can hear the armor’s blade crash against the ground behind her - and then, the armor itself against the doorway. She doesn’t look back, this time.


Thankfully, she didn’t need to. Down the corridor - which seemed to be another hall of tombs - Zelda leaned on her sword, hunching over. Despite everything - she didn’t feel short of breath. In fact; she didn’t even feel tired. Just… Sluggish. It was a distinctly different feeling than fatigue - it wasn’t that her muscles were sore from exertion, it felt as though there was a… Lag between her actions and her motions. She raised a hand to her forehead - expecting it to be dewy with sweat, but it… Wasn’t. It was dry - just like the skin of her arm, prompting her to scratch at it, and-


“By the goddess!” she yelps.


Lifting her arm up to scratch, Zelda caught sight of a hideous sight. Carved into her arm was a deep gash - one she hadn’t felt when she was fleeing from the Iron Knuckle. One she hadn’t noticed when she was running, and… One that wasn’t bleeding. One that… Wasn’t even the right… Color…?


Rather than a sanguine shade of red, the wound in her arm was rather exsanguinated. Greyish - in a word… Lifeless. The skin around it wrinkled - dimpling into the gash. Zelda’s cry reverberates through the halls as she surveys the wound, trying to make sense of it. She turns her arm over - and she stifles another gasp; seeing a smaller greyish patch upon it, nagging her to scratch. 


Zelda choked back another baleful cry. What had Jais done to her? She takes another step forward, dragging her sword behind her before she hefts it up again. She couldn’t waste time mourning over her body - or questioning the… Surprising resilience of it. 


Moving onward, the hall seemed to end with another large chamber - this one much different than the last. It was longer; rectangular, for that matter. It similarly had armored guardians - but instead of the antiquated armor that had attacked her in the last room, these seemed to be stony representations of knights embedded into the walls on either side. Each one held a blade aloft, meeting that of the knight opposite, and forming an archway over the princess. The knights towered over the princess by a magnitude of stories; their age evoking an uneasiness as she moved forward. 


It was as she passed the first archway of blades that she came to regret her advance. The ground shook, and the princess was nearly floored as the knights’ arms swung downward, crashing into the floor behind her and blocking her exit. Before her, the next set of knights dropped their blades, but slowly began to crane them upward again. The princess hobbles toward them, keeping an eye on the menacing blades above… And not on the floor below - namely, the freshly-made gashes upon it. She stumbles forward - the impact within the gash separating the weathered leather of her boot from its sole. The princess groaned as she crawled across the ground - narrowly avoiding the blades coming down on her next. 


Hastily, Zelda tears off the remnants of her torn boot - and the other, for good measure… Only to find a frightening sight within. Much like her wound - her toes were… Weathered. Not strictly aged; but having adopted an unnatural dryness and a pallor. She tries to flex her toes - and they respond, albeit… Slowly. A soft pop is evoked from each one as it moves - only to be drowned out by the crash of the swords around her once more. Zelda stands - but the slow movements of her decaying toes almost tips her over again. She steadies herself, flat on her feet, and awaits the next set of swords to come down before she moves ahead. 


Only two archways stood before the princess and freedom… Or, she hoped, the path to it. The first she surmounted easily; stepping over the crevasse in the ground the crashing swords were leaving. The second, however, didn’t come without casualty. Its timing was off from the others - and so nearly landed on the princess as she crossed beneath. Zelda lurched forward; enough to spare herself a grisly fate - more grisly than the one she was currently undergoing, she thought in bitter retrospect - but not enough to spare her clothes. She could feel the pressure on her back as the blade came down - rending the fabric of her cloak and shirt. What little was left spilled down her chest, fluttering lightly down to the ground. Reflexively, the princess reaches up to preserve her modesty - dropping her own blade with a clatter. 


Mercifully, she still had some modesty to preserve. Her chest, for the moment, was as… Lively as she was accustomed. And yet; it felt dry - and as she held her hands over it, she couldn’t help but scratch as she continues into the next corridor. The scratching reverberates in the close and claustrophobic halls - magnified with the sluggish speed of her advance. Before - Zelda had been moving cautiously. But now… She gulps dryly. She couldn’t will her legs to move any faster - especially not with her clumsy, flat-footed gait. She was given a choice between shambling or falling - and she knew damn well that falling wouldn’t get her anywhere.


At least, she thought - she didn’t need to catch her breath. Looking down to her arm - which now seemed even more decrepit and lifeless than before - she decides to experiment. Clasping her lips tight, she holds her breath as she advances. There’s a moment where her chest begins to feel tight - but it quickly passes. The princess walks for a minute longer, silent and breathless. Another minute passes. A look of hope drains from her face as she opens her mouth again - and no breath escapes.


Zelda was at a loss. Just what was it that Jais had stolen from her? Her life? Her soul? Whatever seemed to be happening didn’t seem to be affecting her mind - she thought, as her nails continue to scratch beneath her arm. Its effect on her body, however, was…


Zelda stops dead in her tracks. 


Peering into one of the tombs, she can make out a figure - something humanoid. It stood with its back to her - wedged into a corner. Tentatively, Zelda took a step back. Its skin was a familiar shade of exsanguinated grey - nearly blending in with the aged stone of the wall. “I-” Zelda begins - but the scratchy dryness of her throat forces her to choke, forcing her into a coughing fit. The figure lurches upward, and slowly turns.


Zelda tries to run, but only manages to shamble a few steps away before the creature followed her out of its tomb. The first thing that crossed the threshold was a thin arm bearing gnarled fingers, which hooked around the doorway and gave it the means to pull itself out of the tomb. What next exited the crypt was a lifeless face - eyes pitted and bearing an eerie green luminescence from them. Its mouth hung open; slack, and it continued onward, pursuing the source of the noise. 


Unarmed and crippled by Jais’ curse, Zelda raises her hands over her mouth and freezes, standing against the wall. The ReDead advances down the hall, toward Zelda. Its green eyes, for a moment, linger upon her… Before averting, looking down the hall. It passes by the princess, shuffling along with its arms outstretched. The princess can hear its joints popping as it passes by her - and more concerningly, she can feel her hands, against her lips, shifting. 


Eventually, the ReDead stops in its tracks, its arms dropping, and the light within its eyes going dim. It seems to… Go dormant, to the side of the princess’ path. Zelda tries to get a move on, but-


Her body seems reluctant to move. Panic sets into the princess as she tries to pry her hands off of her mouth and move away from the wall - but it takes a moment or two. It didn’t feel like she’d stopped moving - it felt like her body just seemed to… Lock into place. Even once free, her body only reluctantly obeys her commands. 


The first thing she notices is her hands - having suffered the same fate as her feet. Her fingers are stiffer - grey and seemingly unable to straighten out beyond a subtle curve. The lifeless texture seems to extend beyond her wrists - and moves upward to join that which has already developed across her arms. Her wounded arm seems to have totally decayed - her skin tight enough to highlight the bone beneath. 


Looking down to her legs - they didn’t seem to fare much better. That much she could surmise just by taking a step forward - beyond her flatfooted gait, they seemed to be the faintest bit weaker as well. Walking past the ReDead was an arduous affair - not just because of the awkward position it seemed to have parked itself along the path, but because of the lurching stride Zelda now seemed forced into. The decrepit princess nearly bumbles into it as she continues on.


It isn’t much longer down the hall that the sound of her scratching and the dragging of her feet is joined by a much more welcome noise - the sound of flowing water. If she could pick up her pace, she would - but for now, the princess settles on the vain hope that the sound wasn’t too far away. She staggers forward as quickly as her body would carry her - and distantly, she could make out a mote of light deeper down the hall. 


The light was bright even as far away as she was - and only got brighter the closer she got. The princess winced - shielding her eyes with one of her gnarled hands. She kept her eyes down, taking note of when she crossed from the hall into the next chamber. Her eyes didn’t seem to adjust to make it tolerable - but leering ahead, she found herself in an… Odd room.


The chamber before her seemed to be a greater victim of time than all those that had come before. The wall and ceiling seem to have ruptured - allowing a clear stream of water to trickle inward; amassing in a wide pit - now seemingly having become a pond. The water seems to rise over the edge of the basin and spread evenly through the spaces between bricks on the floor. Mosses and grass seem to ring the basin and sprout up across the floor - even more so on the rotted structures that seem to have once been benches… Or pews?


The room is a long one - with several rows of benches leading up to an altar, where a large statue of Hylia sits; her body wreathed in moss as though wearing a coat. Zelda tries to look deeper into the cavern intruding into the apparent temple, but the light is offensively bright, causing her eyes to sting. It’s not daylight - that much she can surmise. Luminescent ore or fungus, perhaps? She doesn’t know.


Her dry tongue ran over dry lips as she shambled to the edge of the pond. Shakily, she kneeled beside it, looking over the edge. The sight that greeted her wasn’t pretty.


It’s still her face - and it’s still ‘alive’... But pale. Her cheeks were gaunt and her eyes look tired. She looks how she felt after expelling the Calamity, she thought with a dim smile. She dips her hands into the water - and past her reflection, she can make out the sight of fish deeper down. The sight of something else alive made her feel better - but when her hands surface, and all the water spills out of her shaky grasp, her mood resumes its negative turn. 


Droplets patter off of her hands as she leans forward, her body shaking as she struggles to maintain her balance. She manages to slurp up a couple mouthfuls of fresh water - but it does little to hydrate her. As soon as it’s in her - she feels as though it just begins to dry out once more. She lurches back upward, taking an arduously long time to get back onto her feet. She practically drags herself over to the altar, averting her eyes from the painfully-bright cavern, holding one hand outstretched and the other upon her stomach. Either the water wasn’t sitting right, or there was some new change brewing inside of her.


The princess succeeds in surmounting the stairs leading up to the altar, only to throw herself at the foot of the statue. Hearing the rushing of water; feeling her bare knees on cold stone, clasping her hands together like this… It was nostalgic, but not in a good way. She recalled the months of dispair and insecurity - travelling with Link, praying at the springs for some sign that the goddess was there for her.


Now that a sign had been shown, would she have better luck this time? 


Zelda raises her clasped, crooked hands and bows her head, feeling that throbbing in her stomach. Her lips part easily - but when she tries to begin a prayer, all that escapes them is a ragged “Hhhh…” Zelda gulps dryly - even feeling the flesh of her throat becoming inflexible and decrepit. She looks up, opening her eyes as Hylia’s statue stares forward with a placid expression - as always. “Hhh-” she rasps, clenching her teeth. “Nnnnn-...”


Breath whistled through her teeth, and she tried to force out another word - but she could feel pressure building inside of her. Slowly, gathering in her chest, until-


The pressure in her chest is cut off as Zelda feels a pressure instead in her gut. She topples onto her side, clutching it tight. Zelda looks through her hands at her previously-smooth stomach - watching it slowly… Recede. A panicked “Hnnn-...!” escapes her as the wan tone of her decayed body begins to spread across it - and upward. Her stomach grows pitted before her very eyes, and her ribs become ever-more apparent. The princess tears her eyes away as she first makes note of the pallor reaching up to her breasts - that much she doesn’t want to watch. 


A baleful noise rises from Zelda as she feels the cold clutches of the curse dig deep into her flesh. Her body feels… Light. Frail - even if she’s well aware of her unnatural fortitude. Though her body moves only begrudgingly - the… Lightness of it makes it easier for her shaky legs to manage. 


There was no doubt in her mind that this… Wasn’t appeasing Hylia - if the goddess had turned an eye to observe her plight. A near-nude ReDead begging wordlessly for her favor. Zelda rises to her feet, and she prepares to abandon her efforts at prayer, but… She spies something against the wall.


The first thing she notices is the Hylian crest - rendered in tarnished bronze. It takes her a moment to look past the moss and lichen around it to make out the structure it’s emblazoned upon - and scraping away some of it reveals a small clasp beneath the crest itself. A chest! But… Of what help it would be, she was unsure. Zelda throws up the clasp and shoves against the top - it seemed to be stone or metal, so it didn’t budge easily. Slowly, she worked her fingers into a forming gap between thick layers of moss, and managed to lift up the top. Distantly, Zelda registered the scent of stale air and fabric as she leaned inward. Her finger curled around some sort of string - and as she raised it back out of the box, she found a set of familiar pendants hanging off of it. 


Zelda stared blankly ahead - she felt as though her eyes should widen, but the muscles that made such a motion possible weren’t responding. Pulling it out fully; she recognized the jewelry as a necklace - an integral part of the proper dress of a Hylian priestess. She’d worn it during her prayers to Hylia - she’d worn it during her confrontation with Ganon. Peering inward, she could see the dress itself lying neatly-folded on the bottom of the chest, prompting her to lean down and hook her fingers around its neck, pulling it out too. It was the first piece of clothing she’d seen that was intact - and looking between it and Hylia’s statue, the princess figured it might win her a little more favor. Standing upward, Zelda reaches down to her belt, and…


Meekly shuffles away, off to a corner of the room, out of the goddess’ gaze. The last thing she wanted to do was upset her… If she was even watching at all. Wedging herself into a corner, Zelda’s fingers creaked as they wrapped around the rusted clasp of her belt, prying it off with one tug. With that - the aged leather collapses, tugging down the torn remnants of her pants with them as well. She looks over to the water again, but… It’s beyond the princess to look at her reflection again. Raising her hands to her cheeks, she figures the mental image of her new body should suffice.


She was a shambling, decrepit excuse for a ReDead. Her limbs were thin, body desiccated, and bones prevalent against her form. Her modest curves were had become slight - and she could feel that her cheeks had grown gaunt beyond natural limits. The curse had reached her head; of that she was aware - and as her hands part from her face, she catches sight of an eerie green glow upon them. Shutting one eye seems to dim it in the slightest - enough for her to recall the otherworldly glow of the other ReDead’s eyes. 


Her hand moves upward, running across her hair. It seemed… Dryer; but brushing a lock into her field of view, it seemed to maintain her color. If nothing else - it left her recognizable. For better or for worse. Her sole solace was that she looked a sight better than Jais… Before she seemed to revitalize herself, at least. 


Zelda thought back to the other ReDead, once more. Eerily standing in a corner; much like she was now. Scarcely a scrap of clothing on it, skulking about for prey… But ignoring those of its ilk. It seemed to see her - but perhaps there was nothing left for it to take from her. Her body shuddered at the thought - prompting her decrepit joints to pop softly.


She had pulled the dress and jewelry along the floor to her corner - and mercifully they hadn’t been soiled by the journey. Donning them was a challenge, given her lack of dexterity - she had to crouch and shift herself slowly to put on the dress - and had to awkwardly spread the necklace apart to get it to fit over her. Even when the outfit was complete, it still felt… Wrong, on her form. It was clearly intended for a woman… More generously blessed by Hylia than she was, even prior to this curse. It hung awkwardly and loosely upon her, and dragged across the floor as she shuffles back toward the altar. The princess pats it off, and though a fine layer of dust is thrown into the air - she isn’t sure if it’s coming from the dress or from her own body.


Zelda regains her position from before. She rests upon her sore, bony knees. She bows her head and crooks her back - which feels resistant against her efforts to straighten it. Her hands clasp, and her dry lips part again.


“Hhhh… Nhhnnnn…” She holds her hands higher - as though trying to get the attention of the goddess. A familiar pressure continues to build in her chest. “Hh-h-ha… Aa…!”


Her jaw spreads wider reflexively, and her eyes open wide. In an instant, she stiffens up and shrieks. The princess belts out a shrill, reverberating cry, stinging in her ears and echoing down the hall. As soon as it falls out of earshot, the shrine is silent…


Until she hears something in the water. Zelda looks back, noticing a disturbance in the clear pool. She leers at it - and quickly, she recognizes it as a fish, with its stomach upturned. Another floats up from the bottom of the pond, then another, then another. She reaches out, wordlessly horrified - and then, she hears a harsh, stony crack.


Zelda isn’t quick enough to see it happen - but by the time she’s able to look back to the statue of Hylia, a deep crack has formed across its face; stretching outward and downward, beneath the coat of moss. She sees clumps shed off of it as the statue seems to move; forward, and to the side, and…


Zelda shuffles backwards as the first chunk of stone falls off of the statue, landing a few inches from her. More tumble off the side, bringing long strips of moss with them as they divorce from each-other - within moments, the once-proud statue of the goddess is reduced to a pile of dust and rubble. “A-aa…” Zelda gawks, horrified. In that instant; a lifetime of fear and insecurity returns. Every unanswered prayer. Every instant of fretting over the safety of her kingdom and her people. Every ounce of resentment for the destiny she preordained. Every time she wondered if…


“She can’t hear you.” 


Zelda couldn’t perk up in her condition, but she could slowly look upward. 


“Her presence here has been expunged in totality. In my domain, the goddess is unwelcome. Yet in her domain, she is unfeeling. This much I sense you understand.” Zelda shakily stood up, preparing to stand in the goddess’ defense - but she finds it hard. For reasons more than merely being unable to speak. “You invited her here. Carried her in your blood. A divine stowaway. But one with more control over its destination than one might wish, yes?” Jais chuckles. “You may rejoice, for I have liberated you. You needn’t beg for her blessing. Your destiny is your own… However you wish to claim it.” Green mist begins to seep from the stones in the walls, carried with the sound of a soft sigh. “Such is the nature of my trial.”


Zelda leans forward, preparing to speak in defiance of her inability, but Jais challenges her.


“Ah-ah. Wouldn’t want to kill anything else.” she titters, causing Zelda to shrink backward. “Do not fear. This form of yours is ephemeral. You needn’t remain a corpse. However lovely you are as one. Your trial is not over yet.” The smoke coils through the air, slipping past Zelda and into the hole in the wall - leading into the caverns. “So long as you remain in my domain, it shall persist. You’re a clever one. I’m sure you’ll find a way out… And I’m sure it will prove… Educational.”


Jais’ voice disappears with a husky laugh, echoing in Zelda’s ears. Looking to the caverns, she winces again - blinded by the light. The princess couldn’t lie to herself - this experience was disheartening - and Jais’ words were a dagger in her unbeating heart. It would be… Easy to find a coffin to curl up in, or a corner to rest in, and sulk until she’s satisfied, but…


Her hope of escape was not as fleeting as Jais might expect. Taking a shuffling step forward, she steps away from the altar; and the rubble that once stood in the image of her goddess. Zelda closes her eyes as she walks into the caverns - not knowing what to expect… But praying Jais was not misleading her. If this form could be fixed, then the answer was surely deeper in. 


But if such a promise proved true - Zelda wondered if her blasphemy had a basis in truth. 


The thought hung heavy in the decrepit princess’ mind as she moved into the blinding light.



