The Master Sword //Closed | Plot//

[Link]

Epona’s hoofs echoed across the ruins that surrounded him. The sound of the metallic horseshoes against the ancient cobblestone made an odd clacking noise that broke the deafening silence that covered the ruins. Link’s blue eyes were wide, alert, scanning every little alcove. The entire place had an odd feel to it and he didn’t know what to expect. Then again this entire trek of his was bizarre, so perhaps he had to consider more than just an ambush. He had no idea what waited for him in the Temple of Time, but he was told he had to go there.

”Venture to the Temple of Time and beyond to the Sacred Grove. Destiny awaits you there.” Those were the words the man who went by Zelda’s Knight spoke to him. There wasn’t much to the encounter. The man arrived, explained himself and gave Link his mission. It was hard to turn down a man who called himself such, so the next thing Link knew he was dressed in his standard green tunic and chainmail and Epona was carrying him along through the forest. And now they were here, traveling through what were definitely the ruins of a temple.

The Temple of Time.

There was an open section here, what might’ve been a courtyard once upon a time. Two large statues holding staves with hammer-like end pieces were watching over the place. They were intimidating, to say the least. Link dismounted Epona deftly and let the horse wander off to graze. She was a loyal horse, she wouldn’t go far. He drew his sword and shield from his back, loans from Rusl in Ordon Village, and proceeded forward. There was something ominous and forlorn about this place and Link wanted to be ready in any scenario.

Watching the statues carefully—after his encounter with that imp Link wasn’t entirely sure what was possible and impossible anymore—he walked between them and to the door they guarded. It was sealed shut but as Link got close the birthmark on the back of his hand started to glow bright enough to shine through the gloves he wore. He looked down at it and then up at the door. Something compelled him to reach forward, so he did, pushing his hand against the cold stone. The stone around his hand glowed in response to the touch with the same symbol as his birthmark, and the door hissed before sliding upward and open.

Link wanted to call out to see if anyone else was around, but the silence that weighed down on the ruined temple denied him his voice. Instead he gripped his sword tighter and proceeded forward beyond the threshold. If the silence over the temple had been weighty, this silence was downright crushing as Link found his breath catching in his throat, daring not make even a whisper in the Sacred Grove. He stepped forward, up a flight of steps and through an archway into the grove itself.

There in the center, straight across from him, a sword rested in a pedestal. There was nothing else around except for the foliage. That had to be what the Knight had been talking about. Link walked forward toward it, taking careful, deliberate steps. The sword was unremarkable at first, but seemed to carry the blessing of the Goddesses. Link sheathed his borrowed sword and reached out, gripping the hilt of the blade. The birthmark on his hand grew all the brighter as he gave it a gentle tug and the sword came free.

The mist of the forest that gathered in the grove seemed to part as the blade rose up out of the pedestal and the grove suddenly felt more alive. Link pulled it up and held it high, then twirled the blade around and gave it some practice swings. The sword whistled through the air, cutting cleanly. It felt like an extension of his arm, like it had finally found its rightful place. He swung it once more and felt the power of coursing through the blade radiate through his arm as well.

[Dark Link]

Darkness. Stirs.

A single sword, unblemished by the ravages of the passage of time. It, standing alone in an unremarkable chamber, belying the power that radiated in that room, blade down in a stone pedestal, the mark of the sacred Triforce upon that single, otherwise plain edifice, humble in appearance, mighty in power. The air was so quiet, it was deafening. Aeons echoed through the room, resonating in time with events that had happened, were happening, and were about to happen. Something was about to happen. Something preordained by fate. Miraculous.

But not all fates are good ones.

A solitary green clad man entered, the air about him seeming to greet him, if he could but recognise the signs. The mark upon his hand glowed, and the mark upon the pedestal throbbed in harmony. The very place warmed to his presence. Bold steps took him towards the pedestal. A hand reached out. For an instant, everything stood still. Past. Present. Future. All ceased to be for but one instant.

The hand clasped the sword.

The room began to vibrate with power, as if reborn, a bearer for the relic within once again claiming his destiny. And within that moment, a twin destiny, inextricably linked to the young mans, was born from it. An un-natural shadow crawled, a sickening black stain, at odds with the tranquil, light area it was in, oozing from the shadow of this chosen warrior, taking form, a dark mockery of the hero it mimiced, across the pedestal from the Hero of Ordon.

It began to clap. Slow. Mocking. Malicious.

Oh bravo. Bravo. Most impressive, oh chosen of the Godesses. A wonderful show you put on. And what a marvellous blade you seem to have acquired.

A sneer lay thick across the liquid black visage of the creature, neither mortal nor immortal, as he adressed the hero. Link. He knew him as Link. For that is what his heart, head and soul told him. Red eyes opened, full of malice, of evil. The sneer still planted firmly upon the dark mockery's face, a sword, twisted into existence, materialising out of nothing within its grasp. It was a perfect replica of the blade the other carried, save for the jewel, which glowed a malevolent red, and the hilt, a liquid black. The sneer vanished.

I have one just like it.

[Link]

Link twirled the sword in his hands. It felt remarkably comfortable in his hand. He swirled it through the air and listened to the whistle it made as it cut the air before it. The blade had something extraordinary, something otherworldly about it. He studied the length of the blade carefully, from the jewel to the tip. It was remarkably well-made. It was strange to find a sword like this in the middle of nowhere, but Link knew it was exactly what the man known as Zelda's Knight had sent him to retrieve. This sword was destiny?

Then there was a voice. There had been no one in the grove when he had arrived. Link looked around for the source of the voice, his grip tightening on the sword. It took him only a moment to realize it was coming from the shadow that was stretched out in front of him. His shadow? Link blinked and took a step back, putting the sword and shield forward between him and the shadow. He had experience with shadows speaking before, oddly. He still remembered the imp, Midna, who had scared the goats. She had come from the shadows as well.

He swung the sword forward and pointed it at the shadow, putting the distance between them. "Who are you? What is this?" he asked bluntly. Things were really starting to get weird these days. First an imp appears from the shadows to scare goats, then Link is told by someone labelled Zelda's Knight to venture into Faron Woods, and now his own shadow was talking to him. Maybe he was just going insane. That would make the most sense.

The Master Sword whistled as Link swept it back and put his shield up. He didn't trust the shadow, at all.

[Dark Link]

The shadow clone's laughter echoed in the chamber. It was not a friendly laugh. Malice, dripped, from every cutting utterance of insulting mirth. For the chosen hero, he lacked common sense. Who are you... What is this... Oh how things stayed the same. Always, so naive. So... Young... His counterpart, on the other hand, remained as ancient as always. Ever-learning. Ever-growing. The same prize lay within the polluted, corrupted, twisted things mind. And the same drive lay within it that was there upon the first encounter in fate.

It's always the same. No matter where or when, fate has an ironic happenstance of repeating itself.

It began to pace around the room, never taking its eyes off of Link. Delectable, sweet and malicious thoughts ran amok through the vile things mind. It stopped, whipping round, shield, an inky black replica of the chosen one's, brought up in the same fashion as Link's. Exactly the same. Save for the sneer that now crawled across it's face, like a shadow across twilight.

I am your worst fear. Your greatest enemy. Your personal nightmare. And this is our fate!

Without so much as a warning, the dark warrior sprinted at Link, springing off the pedestal, blade sweeping in a crushing overhead swing, that clattered against the shield, before the two separated, pacing around slowly, perfectly matched. The two clashed again, Link meeting his assailant perfectly, a flurry of blows, blocks, counter-blows, dodges, partings and re-engagements, a deadly maelstrom of almost coreographed violence. The two locked blades, the two sparking briefly upon collision, hilts entwined, a fusion of holy and unholy, for one instance, the fair skinned, determined expression meeting the liquid black malice and arrogance, eye to eye, blue and red.

I am you.

The two pulled apart once again, pacing around, searching for an opening, a weakness, both spotting the dropped guard of the other at the same time, blades clashing against shields, another whirl of combat, before another separation. Arrogance continued to drip from the shadowy one's sneer, as the circling resumed once more.

[Link]

"I am you."

Those were the words his shadowy clone spoke before the two locked up yet again. His blade met the shadowy shield and in return his own wooden shield met the shadowy blade. They circled each other like hungry lions, each waiting for the right moment to strike. Move for move, though, the dark one was meeting Link every single time. And while these encounters were taking a quick toll on Link's energy the shadow seemed to just continue to sneer. Link wiped the sweat from his brow in the shoulder of his tunic, careful not to let the motion leave a hole in his guard. This guy was playing for keeps.

Link remembered everything Rusl had taught him as he circled the shade, the techniques and stances. It all seemed like purple prose now, in the actual fight. Where his weight was leaning made little difference when you needed to get your sword or shield up to block an incoming attack. There was a flicker, a potential opening, and the reverie was shattered as Link lunged forward. But it was a feint. At the last second Link saw the shade shift his weight just as Link had just discarded, his thrust going wide. That black blade went straight for his throat, but Link quickly rolled out of the way, using that natural grace and agility he seemed to be blessed with.

The circling continued.

"How are you me?" Link asked, keen blue eyes watching the movements. The shade lunged forward, but Link saw through this second feint and instead of falling into the trap instead threw all his weight backward, away from his shadow in a full backflip. Not passing up the opportunity he threw his own stab forward. The shade was better, though, and in a blur of shadow the tip of Link's sword was on the ground, that black boot stepping on the flat of the blade and pressing it there. Link drew it back in hopes to catch the shade off guard, but his counterpart did his own flip backward and mimicked Link's previous attack.

Unable to repeat the same events--that is, unable to actually jump and step on the sword--Link was forced to bring up the wooden shield. The shadow blade smacked against it and Link's arm went numb. He stepped backward from the powerful blow and felt the wood of his shield give a sigh of relief as it fell apart, the two pieces of his shield hanging limply from his arm. He shook them off real quick and grabbed for his back, drawing the sword he'd borrowed from Rusl. Link had always practiced with something in his offhand, though he'd never practiced with dual wielding swords.

This was going to get interesting...

[Dark Link]

Still the sneer continued unabated, kicking the broken sections of shield away, his stance loosening, an almost casual, arrogant, cocky ploy. He simply stood, moving as though taking a stroll. He laughed slightly, a short, mirthless expression. Ah, the ignorance. The blissful ignorance. The shade shook his head, red eyes gleaming, ever-filled with hate and malice, before he smirked again, teeth bared slightly.

Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?

The apparition whirled in once again, shield driving forward to meet the main blade, his own rising to deflect the anticipated downward strike of the off hand. He misjudged slightly, the flat of the blade slapping down against his shoulder. A curse of rage, furious at his amateur mistake, before spitting another utterance of words, a perfect mimicry of Link's tone and voice.

And that would ruin your voyage of discovery!

He punctuated the word discovery by smashing the shield bodily into Link, once, twice, the third anticipated, using the momentum to lurch away from the barbaric onslaught. Fury gripped the shadowy mirror of the Hero of Ordon, as he span, deftly flinging the shadowy form of the shield at the off hand blade. The two careened across the temple, before the shield dissapated, a fine mist of black, curling away into the air, before simply ceasing to exist.

As it should be. You and me. Blade on blade. Prove yourself hero!

Once again, a flurry of movement, now met in turn by a redoubled effort from Link. Blade clashed against blade, steel upon steel, strike, riposte, counter, dodge, readress, strike. A deadly sequence, punctuated by venomous, stinging, guttural noises from the apparition, matched by determined, short and powerful grunts from Link. Catching the shade off guard, Link dropped down, spinning a kick, sweeping legs from beneath his assailant. The response, an arm hooking the offending limb, both crashing to the ground, before rolling deftly away from each other, both panting from the frantic exertion. A smirk crept upon the face of the shade.

Good! Far better from the bearer of that blade! You might last the next minute!

[Link]

Link clambered quickly to his feet after the last encounter. This battle was taking its toll on him quite easily. His chest heaved up and down as he rose from a crouch, his sword up and diagonal between them. He felt bare without having something in his offhand, which now extended behind him to help with his balancing. He was quickly learning the value of his own weight when attacking. If he made it out of this he'd really have to thank Rusl for all that training and apologizing for all those times he didn't pay much attention.

The two of them fell back into the circling game, with their blades up. The shadow was a perfect parody of Link, in his style, his movements, everything. He was fighting himself, and his opponent was better. The way he spoke... there was something behind those words. Wisdom? Experience? Link couldn't tell. He didn't have time to think on it, either. This fight needed to end quickly or Link would make a mistake in his own fatigue, and then everything was over.

He finished another half-circle, then with speed, agility and surprise on his side dug his feet into the ground and used that footing to launch himself forward and up, high. With a roar he grabbed the sword with both hands and brought it down hard. The shade was quicker, though, and sidestepped the attack easily, then proceeded to kick Link sharply in the chin. Link toppled to the side but turned the stagger into a roll that put him back on his feet, back to circling. He swore his jaw had been dislocated by the pain, but now was not the time to focus on that.

He really wished he had his shield.

"What are you talking about?" Link demanded as they began to circle again, trying his best to keep the clear fatigue from the battle from his voice.

[Dark Link]

For all his credentials as the Hero of Time, clearly, this youth, no, this child, had only recently learnt how to fight. Amazing, how after all this time, the most vaunted of champions still had to start afresh every time. His opponent, his mirror, his counterpart, however, was well versed in combat, through the ages he had fought, upon countless battlefields, against countless guises of the vaunted hero. And each time beaten, each time gaining more experience. The smirk broadened at the question. Still as un-knowing. A pity. He spread his arms, gesturing to the sky.

I am talking about destiny! You and I, we are linked by fate, forever, inexorably bound to exist while the other does. If your soul would but recognise it, you would know me, as I know you.

He stepped back as Link came at him again, a thrusting attack, followed by a spin. The shadow parried the first, before dropping into a roll beneath the spin, just barely missing a prompt decapitation. His grin widened. Better. But not enough. He countered ferociously, black hilted blade flashing again, a crushing overhand blow, deflected narrowly, before melting through into a right sweep, then using the rebound of the solid block to bring the blade the opposite way round, another crushing arc. This one however went astray, allowing Link to slip under the attack, returning the kick to jaw by smashing him in the stomach, the hilt of the blade nicking his flesh, liquid black shadow oozing from the minor wound. Incensed, the doppelganger's head snapped forward, driving into the real Link's nose.

Both reeled backwards from the blow, blood now gushing from Link's nose, Dark Link now doubled over from the stomach jab. Shaking his head off, before charging in again, blade flickering, Dark Link cried out with rage and fury, his attacks just as refined, but driven now not only by his arrogance, but primal hatred. Blows now struck with a lethality that didn't allow for a single mis-step. The Temple of Time rang with steel upon steel, and the two in kind seemed to be suspended in their own localised bubble. Everything seemed slower, despite the furious pace the two collided with.

[Link]

Wherever the black shade found its strength, it seemed unrelenting. Link, on the other hand, was tiring. He raised a hand to his nose and wiped some blood off on his glove, before he quickly brought his sword into both hands. He didn't say a word, and focused all of his attention on the bizarre doppleganger, reliving his every sword lesson in his head. Rusl's training was all that was keeping him alive, at this point. The dark, oily being charged, and Link raised his sword, blocking each of his foe's strikes, though never pushing the advantage himself. He needed to look for an opening in the other's defences, but even while infuriated, he seemed to be in control.

"Whatever my fate involves, it won't end here with you," Link said defiantly, before finally starting an assault of his own. As one of the shadow's vicious overhead blows came towards him, Link nimbly leapt to the side, still keeping his sword held in both hands. The moment he found footing again, he crouched and spun, swirling his sword for the other's shins. As he expected, the dark warrior leapt above them, raising his weapon for another overhead strike in the air. Instead of moving to block, Link continued his spinning slash, moving almost completely out of the way of the attack, but not quite. The dark blade bit into Link's shoulder, but Link raised one leg and kicked the other in the stomach with every ounce of strength he had. That drove the shade back, but now blood was seeping out of the deep cut in his shoulder.

"Why are you doing this?" Link asked, circling in parallel with his mirror. Rusl's sword was still far away, but if he could get ahold of it, maybe he'd stand a chance. This copy was just a little too experienced for Link to beat him in a straight-up fight ... no matter what Link did, it seemed like his dark foe was just a half-step ahead of him.

[Dark Link]

It was an inexorable, slow fight. Both exchanged blows with intense ferocity, each able to read what the other was doing, never able to fully react to it. Fluid combat. Fight time. Where everything other than the situation melded into a haze, where only the scent, the sight, the sound, the very being of the enemy mattered. The two entities, polar opposites by nature, both so alike, their fates once again clashing, echoing in this cavern of eons. Dark Link's laughter chorused, rallying against Link's defiant utterance. The closest to bravado that the Hero of Time ever got. Oh so modest. Oh so naive.

Oh, Chosen Hero, how narrow your mind is... We are DESTINED to end the other. That IS your fate. That IS MY fate. Whether now, come twelve summers, or in another life altogether, one shall end the other for all eternity.

Again the two collided, like opposing forces of nature. A collision of titanic extremes. All condensed into the space of a few scant seconds. The two separated after another blistering engagement, Link bleeding, but this time, the shade reeling backwards, hitting the floor with a thud, sliding backwards. That was the Hero of Time. Of that there was no doubt. The malicious grin crept back upon his face as Link moved in, his question punctuated by a leaping slash. A deft roll, and a simple flick of the wrist, and the two were once again standing, a blades length separating their swords.

Because, Link, we have no choice. It is not a case of fight or flight. We shall fight, or we shall die. And this time, it is you who shall die.

He sheathed his blade, confusing Link for a moment. Link pressed this momentary advantage, convinced of a sure kill, a simple diagonal slash, from shoulder to waist. A perfect killing blow upon an enemy bloated with bravado. Or so he thought. His blade began to drive towards the shade, stepping in, when with catastrophic fury, his strike was met with a single, titanic strike. The blade, unsheathed with blinding speed, swept up, flinging the killing strike away, before a simple blade rotation moved for a sure, mortal wound, to sever the neck. There would be no time for reaction. Only death awaited those snared by the Mortal Draw...

[Link]

Like a fool, Link fell for the trap that the corrupted shade had lain for him. The blow came for him, and for a moment he despaired, his strike freezing along with his body. Had he failed everyone? The Knight Commander had told him to retrieve the blade, but there was no way that even he could have foreseen this. Link's life flashed before his eyes, realizing that death was approaching. But what could he do? The shade had shown flawless finesse with a blade, and Link had nowhere near as much experience as him. Defeat was an inevitability in the end, even he had to acknowledge that.

However, before the world turned to black, a magnificent light glowed from his hand, illuminating the area around them like a sun. Things seemed to slow down for Link, and for a moment, he gazed upon his mirror's face. Shock and confusion were the dominant features, but he didn't let up on the blow, not even slowing down. Link however, felt new life, a new sense of vigor. He felt that he could take on the world, and he was going to let that feeling rule him if just for a bit.

Before the blow could connect, Link's free hand moved and caught the two handed blow aimed to cleave him. He held the imposter's hands in a vice grip, refusing to let its dark steel inch any closer. The Ordon Hero stared the shade in the eye, a new resolve found within. "You keep bringing up destiny, and how we are destined to end each other." He growled at Dark Link. This fight wasn't over yet. This was the beginning of the Hero's second wind. Link wasn't finished yet. He wouldn't let himself die. Not here. He had too many things ahead of him.

Using his strength, the hero took one step forward, pushing the shade back. "And you have the gall to act so arrogantly and assume that I'm only alive because you want me alive." Link called him out. "So I have one question ..." He muttered at the shade. He wasn't happy. He was determined however. He had willpower. He had the power to save himself, and destroy this shade. He wouldn't let him answer "Who the hell ..." and to the shock of the mirror, his hand released the shade's hands, and immediately gripped his wrist.

It took one quick jerk towards him to stumble Dark Link. "DO YOU THINK I AM?!" The Hero of Ordon roared as he thrust his blade forward, plunging it into the chest of the shade, who let out a pained gasp at the sudden impact. He wasn't through yet though, as Link raised a boot, and kicked him off the blade, causing the shade to collapse on the ground as a hand was raised to gently cover its new wound. Link was in control now, this fight was turning in his favor at least.

The Hero wouldn't even give the shade the chance to recover. He rushed towards his mirror, flipping the blade into a reverse grip, aiming to bring it down into the chest of the shade, to end him now. If Dark Link looked into his eyes, he would see what appeared to be a mix of life, of vitality, of a feral wrath long kept dormant.

A look of absolute courage.

[Dark Link]

He had been so sure of himself. For all his machinations, for all his planning, his bravado, he was undone by the same thing as always. That which marked Link out as the Hero of Time. Part of the most sacred of relics, the Triforce of Courage. At the very last minute, his blade was stopped, a hairs breadth from cleaving him in twain. Driven inexorably back, within a matter of moments, he was reduced from the sure victor, to being on his knees, almost at the complete mercy of his attacker.

Almost but not quite.

While he could not hope to defeat Link, as he was swelled with the power of the Triforce of Courage, by no means would he be defeated so easily. Link's blade drove in for the second time, meeting no resistance at all. Black oozed from his previous wound, and as the blade pierced him a second time, nothing happened. It simply passed through him. A dark smirk crossed the shades lips, before he stood up, shakily, before simply stepping off the blade, his own dissipating in his hands. He lifted his head skyward, smiling despite the agony in his chest. Slowly, his features began to twist and morph, peeling from a pristine skull.

As it should be. Until next we meet. Link. Hero of Time. Of whom I mirror. Of my blood. My brother...

As he spoke, the blackness unfurled from him, a glimmer of gold growing, revealing an ancient, skeletal warrior, clad in spectacular armour, a regal posture, his noble brow raised, growing several feet, towering over Link, looking down upon him, a look of pride on his face, before the blackness encroached around him, pain smashing all semblance of heroism from his form, as he hunched over, a silent scream on his mouth, before the shadows twisted, and just as he had appeared, he vanished into nothing, leaving nothing behind, the black gore swirling up into the air with the black shape that now twisted that noble warrior up with it...

EXIT DARK LINK

[Link]

The Hero, while surprised at how his blade so effortlessly passed through the mirror, did not flinch. No, the time for opening up was over. Energy and vitality rushed through him, he was going to destroy this abomination here and now. But it seemed that in a way, destiny had other plans, and it felt like playing a trick on him.

The Shade rose and revealed what might have been his true form. A towering warrior in golden armor, eclipse him. His stance could be seen as nothing short of inspiring, the kind of being that you would find in myths and legends. Yet Link felt no fear. Right now, it was as if he couldn't even process the emotion of fear. But, it turned out that this new form was not a foe, instead complimenting him, calling him his blood, his brother ... Link wasn't sure what to say.

Words were no longer necessary, as right after the golden warrior complimented him, he hunched over in agony. Link was divided on what to do. On one hand, this skeletal being was showing him respect, addressing him as an equal. On the other hand, said skeletal being was just a murderous shade trying to well ... murder him just a few seconds ago. It'd be somewhat understandable if Link took another potshot. However, he found a middle ground, unsure of what to do. Instead of rushing over and helping the being, potentially falling into yet another trap, he stood there, instead of finishing him off, letting whatever was happening, happen.

After it had all transpired, after the shade had vanished, Link began to calm down. His breathing slowed, and became more deep. His chest heaved, and in a way, his perception of time, and of the world, returned to normal. The ferocity in his eyes departed just as quickly as they came, and all the excess energy he felt faded away. Link, despite having received training, hadn't really been in many battles. Smacking blins around every now and then was about as hectic as it ever got. With the battle for his life, for his very existence now over, the Hero had a moment to stand back and assess the situation. So this was what a combat high was like ...

Composing himself as best he could, Link sheathed the imposter blade in its sheath, gathered up Rusl's sword, and departed. What was on his mind most of all however, was whether to report to the Commander that had pointed him here. If that shade, that ... thing was correct, and this really was his destiny, then it was his problem. He wasn't the most powerful man in the world, and not even the most skilled, but dragging others into his ... "destiny," putting them in harm's way ...

He wouldn't let that happen.

[EXIT]