Chapter XV: Realm of the Druid

“NOOOO!” screamed Veil, riveted where he stood as he watched Link be eaten alive by the tree-monster. The beast roared defiantly, waving what remained of the rest of its wounded, hacked-up tentacles. The shadow would have probably thrown up if he had ever eaten anything—the reflex was still there, and he sank to his knees, gagging and choking on the tears that threatened to suffocate him. Behind him, Sheik was absolutely still, staring in disbelief, unable to comprehend that the Hero of Time was gone.

Link was gone.

The beast began lumbering away, satisfied with its meal. Veil raised his head, and an unholy darkness caused his gray eyes to blacken in rage. From where Sheik was sitting, several paces away, he felt the atmosphere stand still for a moment, as if holding its breath. Veil stood to his feet slowly, sword in hand, and began to walk toward the creature. It turned when it sensed that another victim was approaching, snarling deeply and flicking its many tongues menacingly.

Veil fearlessly approached, closer and closer. The monster growled warningly and took a step back, perhaps sensing its foe's anger. Sheik crawled to his feet, uncertain of what was going to happen next, momentary panic rendering him unable to move from where he stood.

The shadow stopped suddenly, staring expressionlessly at the massive creature. “What’s the matter?” he uttered darkly. “Don’t you feel like another helping?”

Sheik’s eyes flew open wide. “Veil, no!”

But his words fell on deaf ears; Veil took a running start and, with an anguished scream, jumped straight into the great black cavern of the monster’s mouth. The jaws snapped shut behind him, and the forest was quiet save for the rumbling growls of the beast who had just eaten the Hero and now his Shadow. Sheik trembled, his mind unable to grasp the fact that he was now alone, trapped in the forest with no way to get out. Link was gone. Veil was gone. Navi was gone. He was alone.

As he stood there debating whether he should remain motionless until the creature left or perhaps take one last stand against it, the beast suddenly tensed and reared back its head, bellowing in agony. It began thrashing and stomping madly, swinging its tail back and forth, breaking trees in half and tearing shrubs from the ground. The din was so frightful Sheik had to clap his hands over his ears lest he fear he go completely deaf. Even the gods themselves would have heard the noise.

The creature fell on its belly, squirming and salivating and waving its tentacles about frantically. As Sheik stared in shock, the glowing blade of the Master Sword stabbed through the monster’s side from within, and ripped a great arc upward and over, partially severing the beast in half from the inside out. The creature screamed so terribly that it shook the trees and the ground, and oceans of rancid green blood and bile poured forth from the gaping wound. It clenched its jaws spasmodically as its lower half writhed and jerked in the last throes of death. And after a few seconds, it was still.

From the tangle of slimy pink organs came a groan, and Sheik ran around to where the beast lay dead. He reeled backwards as the horrible stench of steaming entrails hit him, and he had to use every ounce of his willpower to keep himself from vomiting. “Link! Veil!” he choked. “Where are you?”

With no answer and even less of a choice, Sheik waded into the carnage, slipping and sliding as he walked waist-deep through mangled flesh, grabbing onto warm guts hanging between the beast’s halves to keep his footing. “Link! Veil!”

He saw movement beneath a mass of pink membrane and reached down, digging his fingers in and tearing the flesh open with his bare hands.

Link, covered in head to toe with lumpy white mucous, burst from what was presumably the belly of the beast, gasping for breath and shaking violently.

“Link!” Sheik darted forward and grabbed the Hylian in a crushing embrace. “Thank the Goddesses, you’re alive.”

“Wh…what happened?” Link choked, looking around. “Wh-where’s Veil?”

Sheik pulled away and began to dig madly through the entrails, calling the shadow’s name. Link dragged himself from the dead animal’s bowels and then collapsed on the ground. From the front half of the monster, Veil, similarly drenched in foul-smelling digestive liquids, crawled out and shook the viscous matter from his limbs like a wet dog. In his hand he held the Master Sword.

“Veil!” the Sheikah cried, taking him by the arm to keep him from falling. “Are you all right? Don’t you ever pull a stupid stunt like that ever again!”

“You forget I’m immortal,” the dark haired young man wheezed with a smile. “It was no risk. I should have done it sooner.”

Sheik had to grin. “You are something else, Veil. I’m glad you’re with us.”

“Thank you, Sheik . . . Ugh. All right, let’s get out of this. I’ve only just discovered my sense of smell and this thing’s guts are killing it.” And together they stepped out of the coils of slick flesh and joined Link on the ground, catching their breath and staring at the gigantic monster’s dead carcass.

Link rolled over onto his hands and knees, gagging and heaving up for a while as Veil patted his back comfortingly.

“Gods, Link, don’t start. You’re going to make me throw up, too,” Sheik mumbled, trying not to listen to the retching.

Once the Hylian had emptied himself, Veil took him in his arms and held him securely; he was too shaken and exhausted to resist. “Well. Now what do we do?” the shadow murmured, resting his chin on Link’s shoulder.

“Keep going, I suppose,” Sheik sighed. “If the horses didn’t die of fright.”

Link muttered, “We all smell terrible.”

His friends chuckled lightly. “But at least we’re alive,” they said.

“And that in itself is quite amazing,” came a strange, ethereal voice from behind them.

The three young men jumped and turned about to see a figure in a dark brown hooded cloak gazing down at them. The face was hidden in a shroud of shadow. In the hand was held a gnarled staff of wood. The figure had approached soundlessly, as if materializing out of thin air.

“Who are you?” Sheik demanded.

“I have many names,” the cloaked person replied. “But you most likely know me as Falavus Talrhos.”

“It’s you,” Veil whispered reverently.

“I was not expecting three,” the druid said slowly. “But that matter will present itself in good time. I have been looking forward to your coming, though I wonder what reasons could have driven you to risk your lives so frivolously by invading my privacy and disemboweling my guardian.”

“Your guardian?” Sheik uttered. “You mean that monster is a pet?”

“He keeps out those who wish to disturb me with their trivial requests,” said Falavus, drawing back the hood of the cloak and causing the three onlookers to recoil in pure shock. “What?” the druid murmured. “You were expecting a man?”

Indeed they must have been, for before them stood a woman, looking to be in her late twenties, though her colorless white eyes seemed to belong to those of an ancient witch. Her face was plain but her radiating aura made her beautiful—stern but merciful, fearsome but just. Wavy white hair cascaded down her cloaked shoulders, and about her head was a simple circlet of silver. Her appearance was ordinary and simple, but the three young travelers could not help but to be awed by her powerful presence.

“But-” Link stammered, caught in her chilling gaze. “But we always heard that the last of the druids was a man.”

“Men like to take credit for many things,” she answered, something akin to amusement flickering behind her eyes. “How easily history can be twisted to suit their fancy.”

Veil was in wide-eyed wonder. “I’ve never seen a real woman before,” he said in a hushed voice.

“I am no woman,” Falavus said, “and have not been for centuries. I am a creature all its own, neither living nor dead. But I digress. Gather your things and come with me. We have much to discuss.”

She turned slowly and strode away, not even appearing to touch the ground, her motions were so smooth. Link, Veil and Sheik crawled to their feet and found the horses, oddly subdued and calm. The trees and briars parted before the druid as she went, leading the weary adventurers onward into the forest.

They followed the mysterious druid deep into the wood, straying far from the main path until they came across a new one, less overgrown than the last. Falavus did not speak and walked with her eyes straight ahead, never once looking back to see if the young men were keeping up with her. They were more than wary of the woman, though they dared not interrogate her for fear of arousing some ancient wrath, for anyone who kept a beast like that tree-monster as a guardian obviously did not like being meddled with.

Gradually the brambles and vines grew scarcer and more blooming shrubs could be seen, flowers of every size and color. The trees lost their scarred and unwelcoming appearance and gave way to lush green foliage. The farther they ventured the larger the trees became, until they were passing trunks as wide as some cottages, towering so high above them that their tops could not be seen.

Carpets of moss and soft grass took the place of gravel and hard dirt, and soon the forest became alive with fauna: birds chirped pleasantly above as they flew from tree to tree, rabbits and squirrels and chipmunks and deer darted away shyly as the strangers made their way through, and somewhere in the distance could be heard the gentle rushing of a river. The horses trotted along more easily now, comfortable in the benign peace of the woodland.

It grew more and more beautiful as they went, past pure streams and waterfalls. The air was warm and sweet, and the three adventurers could not help but to stare in wonder at their surroundings.

“I thought the Lost Wood was beautiful,” Link breathed, eyes wide. “But now I realize I never knew the meaning of beauty.”

“All things in this world are beautiful, child,” Falavus said from several paces ahead. “It was mankind who invented the word ‘ugly’. To the Goddesses, there is nothing in their creation that is not beautiful.”

“Lady Talrhos,” Sheik said respectfully, “what of the things that were not created by the Goddesses?”

“There are no such things.”

“You are wrong, my lady,” murmured Veil, and the druid came to a halt. The three men stopped and held their breath, fearful of her reaction. But when she did not speak, Veil continued softly: “The Goddesses had no part in my creation. I was forged at the hands of the Dark Lord Ganondorf in the image of his greatest foe, the Hero of Time. It was only through the grace of the Hero that my consciousness was awakened and I was freed from evil.”

Falavus was quiet for a long while. Then she slowly turned and gazed at the travel-worn companions. “So,” she said finally, “that is why I sensed only two of you . . .” The druid gazed directly at Veil. “Because one of you has no soul.”

“I knew it,” Link repeated, shaking his head as he removed his crusty, smelly hat. “I knew all along that he was after my soul. That explains everything.”

“Except for the fact that when Veil was supposedly ‘sucking out your soul’ you grew better instead of worse,” Sheik argued.

The two were standing along the banks of a narrow river where Falavus had sent them to cleanse themselves of the filth and gore they had unfortunately wallowed through. It was not far from her home, which turned out to be one of the giant trees that had been hollowed to form a comfortable shelter. It reminded Link much of his own home back in Kokiri.

The druid had kept Veil by her side as she sent Sheik and Link to the river, saying that she would like to speak with the shadow for a moment and that she would return him shortly. Veil’s absence gave Sheik and Link time to discuss matters of importance that they did not wish for him to overhear.

Link, fully recovered from his frightful ordeal, said irritably, “He could be making me sick on purpose just so he has an excuse to try to get at my soul. His ‘healing’ trick could all be a farce designed to turn our eyes from his true intentions.”

“Which are?”

“Stealing my soul, of course!”

“What could Veil possibly want with your soul, Link?”

“I don’t know. Probably put it to some evil use, like destroying the world.”

“Veil’s about as evil and destructive as a kitten. If he were really stealing your soul, I doubt he would even know it.”

“It’s not my fault he’s stupid,” Link muttered.

“Now listen here,” Sheik said with open hostility in his voice, “Veil worships you. He saved your life at Lake Hylia, once again when you fell off your horse, and recently he jumped down a monster’s throat, in case you have forgotten. You would have been long dead by now if it weren’t for him, and don’t try to make excuses for denying him a shred of respect or dignity by trying to pin this whole mess on him.”

Link was taken aback at this outburst. But Sheik was not finished:

“I don’t understand what makes you hate him so fiercely when he has never once committed a crime against you. He has only ever loved you, and how do you repay him? By calling him names, demeaning him, denying him the courtesy you show to everyone else. Just because he happens to have been a product of Ganondorf’s evil, you think that that gives you the right to treat him like shit all the time? To walk all over him as if he were less than dirt? Veil is made of tough stuff if he can still find it in his heart to exalt you after the horrible way you’ve treated him.”

Sheik paused to take a breath, his tongue still stinging from his heated words. “You’re not the Hero you used to be. I don’t know who you are anymore.” And he walked away, leaving Link standing alone by the river.

Though the young Hylian was visibly hurt by his friend’s harsh words, the more he tried to push them from his mind the more he realized that Sheik was right. He was not the person he used to be. But what does Sheik know about him anyway? All he knew of Link was from what Zelda told him, and perhaps the three or four days they had been on this wild quest together. What does he know? What does he care? Link shucked off his filthy clothes and tossed them to the ground.

What do I know? What do I care?

He gazed down at his nude reflection in the gently flowing water. “And who is the Hero of Time?” he murmured to his rippling image. Mottled bruises. Red scratches. And a deep wound that could not be seen from the outside.

For the first time in years, Link sat down and drew his knees up to his chest, hid his face in his arms, and cried.

Veil hitched the horses to a slender tree on the edge of the grassy, sun-dappled clearing in which the house of the druid stood. Falavus had gone inside for a few moments and now she returned, devoid of her cloak and clad plainly in a brown peasant’s dress. She looked much less threatening than earlier, though her expression was troubled as she approached Veil.

“So then,” she said. “Veil, is it? You say your creation was at the hands of the Dark Lord?”

“It was, my lady. Forgive me for noticing, but you don’t seem to be wondering who he is. Do you know of him?”

“Indeed, I did,” she replied, taking a seat on a nearby boulder and beckoning for Veil to sit beside her. “Time has no meaning to an immortal. I knew well of the Hero, and how he succeeded in his quest to vanquish the Dark Lord, reversing time to set the wrong things right again. Noble and courageous of him, though he seems to have changed from what I imagined him to be.”

“He has endured much since he was called on another quest,” said Veil. “From what Sheik tells me, they sent him back to his childhood to try to live a normal life. Time was supposed to line up and mend itself into an age free of all traces of Ganondorf’s evil…but when time caught up to the point of my creation…” he trailed off.

“Things went awry,” Falavus finished softly.

The shadow nodded, gazing at the ground. “And now the fate of the world is in peril because of my existence, and I am endangering the life of the only one who has the power to save it; twice has he come close to death because of me, and he is on a quest to try to find some way to clean up the mess I have made before it is too late. If he perishes before he has found the answer...” He trailed off.

“Veil,” the druid said in an unusually gentle tone, “you may be upset by what I am about to tell you, but perhaps it shall shed light on what must be done to correct this flaw in time.”

She placed a hand upon his shoulder. “From the moment you and your companions entered this forest, I sensed your presence by the energy being radiated by your souls. I detected only two, and one of them was ill. I presume it was Link’s, correct?”

“. . . What? His soul is ill? What does that mean?”

“Patience. I will explain it all in due time. You must understand this: each human on this earth was given a soul by the Goddesses, each one unique in its own way, each one free to choose its own path. When the Dark Lord created you, you were given no soul, for you were not a part of the Goddesses’ divine plan; you were a part of Ganondorf’s plan.

“For you see, Veil, the Goddesses have meaning and purpose for all things of their creation. Every leaf, every grain of sand, every drop of water, every living thing upon this earth was put here for a reason. The power to forge life, though a natural gift in living creatures, is an impossible feat to accomplish by magic and dark powers alone. Or at least . . . I thought it to be.”

“The Dark Lord was very powerful,” Veil whispered. “He must have figured out a way to do it.”

“So I suppose. Pray, tell me of your origins.”

“Well,” He licked his lips nervously. “I know a little from what Ganondorf told me, and perhaps a bit more I’ve managed to piece together from Sheik. I . . . I was Link’s shadow, once. The evil that was plaguing Hyrule during his original quest, it . . . I don’t know, somehow it made me become more than just a shadow, yet a shadow I was still. I later became separated from Link, though I cannot remember how. I wandered lost for what seemed like ages, and then . . . the Dark Lord found me.

“Ganondorf captured me, bestowing me with flesh and form. He gave me a body identical to that of Link’s . . . and as long as my flesh was being poisoned by Ganondorf’s lies, I was under his control. I did what he told me to do, for I had no mind of my own. I had no sense of self, no life . . . only a desperate need that drew me to the one from whom I had been torn.

“Link fought and defeated me. He stabbed me with my own sword and destroyed the evil that was poisoning my mind. He thought I had died, but I was only just born. He departed before I had a chance to recover, and I was left stranded and trapped where we had fought.

“Link saved Hyrule and turned back the time, but time to me had stood still. For seven years I waited in my prison of mist, locked away from the world above. My only desire, the only thought which kept me alive was that one day Link might return and save me.”

“You were right,” Falavus said.

Veil looked happy at first, but then his smile faded. “I thought we could be friends. I thought he would understand, but he pushes me away. He wants nothing to do with me. I hurt him and I don’t know how or why. I don’t do it intentionally! He hates me for being what I am . . . I suppose he has reason to. After all, if it weren’t for me he’d be off somewhere, living his life as he pleased.”

The druid stood from the rock and faced Veil. “Thank you for talking with me. Your story is an interesting one, and I shall try to help you as best I can.”

“Pardon me, Lady Falavus, but for what reason? We have nothing to give you in return, I’m afraid.”

“I do not ask for payment,” she answered. “But your story concerns me deeply. If indeed it is true, I must be prepared for what is to come in the days ahead.”

“And what might that be?”

Falavus looked away. “The lack of them.”

Veil trudged toward the river, troubled by the druid’s words. The lack of days ahead . . . Surely she could not be speaking of the end of the world, could she? How could one insignificant shadow trigger such a calamitous event? It had to be impossible. She was probably just imagining the worst possible scenario, like Sheik always did.

That thought cheered him up slightly, but his mood fell out from under him the moment he saw Link sitting by the river with his clothes off, still curled up tightly with his arms about his legs. Thinking something terrible had befallen him, Veil broke into a run and came crashing down onto his knees at Link’s side.

The Hylian jumped and his head snapped up, revealing swollen red eyes from crying.

“Link!” the shadow cried, ignoring his twin’s nudity and drawing him into his arms. “Link, are you all right? What happened? Why are you crying?”

“Get off of me!” He wrenched away angrily and stumbled to his feet. Veil gazed up at him with his mouth open slightly as his master stood before him in all his pale, peachy nakedness. A crimson hue stained Link’s face and he turned his back to Veil. “Don’t look at me. Leave!”

“You have nothing that I don’t have myself,” came the reply. “We’re identical, remember? Besides, it’s only flesh.”

“Well it’s my flesh!” Link’s face burned all the hotter, and he mentally kicked himself for acting so insecure about his own body. However, he was aware of how vulnerable he was to have that soul-snatching shadow just ready to reach out and touch him. And Sheik was nowhere in sight. Link doubted he could fend off Veil if he decided to jump up and begin molesting him where he stood.

“Your mood swings are most exhausting to entertain,” Veil sighed sadly.

“Well then, perhaps you should go somewhere else and sleep if I exhaust you so.”

“You know I don’t sleep, Link. Besides, I need to wash my clothes. I smell almost as rancid as you.”

“I beg your pardon!” Link turned slightly around in time to see Veil pulling his long tunic over his head, and quickly looked away. “Gods,” he muttered under his breath. “Why now?”

“Surely you wouldn’t want me walking around smelling terrible, would you?” The rustling of cloth could be heard as Veil stripped down. “After all, it would be all the more unbearable for you to have me near you!”

Link whipped around angrily, glaring at his twin. “How can you joke at a time like this? Have you forgotten everything that has happened?”

Veil looked stunned. “No. I am just happy that you are alive. Forgive me, but am I not allowed that privilege any longer?”

Link frowned and said nothing…and then he realized that both he and Veil were standing nude together. In the forest. Alone. Together. Gazing at each other in silence. But even that was not as alarming as what he noticed at that very moment:

“Impossible,” he muttered, glaring at the top of Veil’s head. “You’re supposed to be just like me, but . . .”

“What? What is it?” the dark haired young man said with concern.

Link stepped closer and placed his hand on the top of his blond head, drawing an invisible line across, where it came to rest in Veil’s ebony bangs. “Unbelievable,” he said. “You can’t be taller than me. We’re supposed to be completely identical.”

“Oh? Didn’t you know?” Veil said with a mischievous grin, causing the scar across his cheek to curve slightly. “Shadows are always taller.”

Link’s mouth fell open and an indignant expression flew across his face as he took offence to the comment. Just as quickly, his expression melted into a superior smirk and he reached out, placing his hand upon Veil’s muscular chest, and nonchalantly pushing him over into the river.

The shadow fell into the water with an almighty splash, and surfaced a few moments later with a sputter, his black hair drenched and covering his eyes. “I let you do that, you know!” he cried, though he was grinning.

Link tried as hard as he could not to be amused, but Veil’s comical appearance all but shattered those intentions and the Hylian found himself chuckling helplessly. Of course, once he realized how ridiculous he was behaving, he quickly stifled his joviality. Unfortunately, Veil noticed.

“It’s no crime to laugh in times like these,” he said, sweeping his wet hair off of his forehead and standing waist-deep in the water. His gray eyes gazed up at Link. “If we couldn’t find joy in adversity, then how can we be reminded of what we are fighting for?”

“You’re not making any sense,” the Hylian said, crouching down to sit at the river’s edge.

“Stop trying to understand it with your brain. Use your heart instead.”

Something like sorrow found its way into Link’s blue eyes. “My heart is too tired to try,” he murmured after a while. “So much has been taken from me . . . I have nothing left to give anymore. Nothing except bitterness and seven years of nightmares.”

Veil was quiet for a moment before extending his hand out toward Link. “Then share your burden with me,” he begged softly. “You cannot bear the weight alone forever. Though I may be soulless, I still have a heart as human as yours. Don’t suffer needlessly when you have someone who is willing to help carry your pain right in front of you. Please, Link. You must trust me.”

Veil’s heartfelt words continued to hover in the warm air long after they had been spoken, and time seemed to stand still for hours as the two young men stared at each other, one hoping and the other fearing. Everything around them faded into obscurity until they were the last two people on the face of the earth.

Link’s pale hand reached out to clasp the darker, scarred one, and an eternity of questions were finally laid to rest.

The next thing he knew, Link was shivering in the cold water, clinging desperately onto Veil and crying so hard that his chest ached from the force of his sobbing. Their bare bodies were pressed together tightly, and Veil had his arms wrapped around Link’s slender waist, holding him protectively.

Everything that Link had been holding deep inside, his never-ending woe of leaving his best friend Saria, his frustration at having to figure out how to do the impossible a second time, his misplaced anger, his insurmountable fear that he never allowed to show on the outside, his agonizing sorrow of losing his most precious companion; he let it all rush from his body at once in a few brief moments of insufferable pain.

Veil held him securely, trying to ease his twin’s shuddering and trembling as hot tears smeared onto his shoulder. He rubbed Link’s back soothingly and said nothing, his hand gliding a gentle path down the Hylian’s spine to rest upon the small of his back.

Link gasped softly and threw his arms about Veil’s shoulders, aware of that now-familiar sensation creeping into his body like a welcomed breeze. “Veil,” he said in a choked whisper against the moist skin of his neck.

“You’ll be all right,” the shadow breathed. “I am here, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” Link sniffed and hid his face in the crook of Veil’s neck. “I know.”

After their skins had been washed clean in the river’s pure waters, Veil and Link found a shallow spot near a pebbly shore and set to work rinsing and scrubbing the filth and grime from their clothes. No words were spoken between the two as they wrung out the fabrics, and neither did they speak to each other and they sat on the warm grass and waited for their clothes to dry.

It had been rather uncomfortable once Link had managed to stop crying back in the river; Veil had willingly released him from his arms, and the young Hylian had turned away, still wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Feel better?” the shadow had inquired softly.

Link nodded. “But the pain is still there. I don’t want to hurt forever.”

Veil’s gray eyes grew heavy with sadness as he recalled his terrible revelation the night before. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “Nothing lasts forever.”

Then they had bathed separately and said no more after that. The deed had been done; Link had revealed himself—both in body and soul—to his shadow for a short time, placed himself in the hands of his former enemy, surrendered himself completely. And now it was over. He had cried. Veil had endured. It was over. Time to move on.

And it did, but not in their minds. Still they replayed that one scene over and over again, that brief moment of trust, that baring of hearts, that single instant of unity in which all hatred and inhibition fell away . . . and then passed on, becoming just another part in unwritten history that would be remembered by no one save for them. It was joyous, it was sorrowful, it was passionate, it was glorious, but most of all, it was short.

It was human life summed up in a few minutes.

Life was beautiful while it lasted, but its end was always the same: separation. Sorrow. Regret. Longing. And love undying. And that, Veil realized, was what made life so precious to the mortals who had been cursed with it. They laughed because their time was short, they were kind because kindness mattered in a brief existence, and they loved because it was better than nothing. One could not place a value on a mortal’s life.

Perhaps it was the immortals who are cursed.