Itās the strangest sensation, breathing again.
The feathering of air is a keen punch to senses heās lost the names of. He recognizes touch through the white-hot rips in his static world, but can no longer identify their purpose. He knows sound through the piercing, crystalline noise that splits his head after lifetimes of mule quiet, but does not know what it brings to mind. He understands sight very suddenly, by the brightness and the cracks of furrowing pin-feathers from underneath his skin; from golden light pouring through the ground at his feet.
He doesnāt know what any of it means, and then he does.
From the pedestal comes a rolling gas and bundle of black rope; liquid stalks braiding together with fervent intensity, clamoring at the edge of their granite base and pulling at the ground they find. In seconds, there are enough to coalesce into a single shape: a sphere, pieces peeling outwards from its sides as thick, dark petals.
They unfurl out of sync; beat once, twice before the muscle memory of flight returns to them as it does to their host. Two corded legs atop three sickle-toes heave the bulk of the body upwards, disturbing old dust to glimmer among smog as Hyruleās newest occupant relearns how to exist.
āOf which legend do you speak?ā
A voice like driven, grating stone; architectural reverb undercut with the deep purr of thunder. Light catches only the rim of a bloodshot eye and heavy mounds of unpreened feathers as he paces a quarter-circle around the chamber, one swatch of red never once leaving the other two. Wrath constricts and focuses on the body, they body whoād freed him, and spends solid seconds appraising its worth.
A compact power rings through the steel of the manās spine; if thereās desperation, itās well-hidden. He cannot sayānot with any certaintyāwhether or not he is familiar, whether he is friend or foe.
A wind blows into the chamber, rushing and cutting and tossing, and Vaati is airborne.
Ā Ā Ā Ā āGuardian of the throne? Iād expect you to want the legend of The Sorcerer of Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Winds kept under lock and key. How do I call this dissenter?ā
Sheik had never really known the real significance of the carving of the eye heād observed in several dungeons throughout Hyrule. Some believed it to be an alternative design to the Sheikah eye, and others thought it simply represented something that drew power from old magic, like the Armos statues.Ā
Now, as he looked upon the one-eyed monstrosity that heād released, he couldnāt help but wonder if this...Ā this wasnāt the creature that those carvings had represented.Ā
A bitter smile played on his lips. He was not afraid of this creature, for heād seen enough horrors to know that being consumed by the evil here would be not much more different than being consumed by the evil out there. After all, releasing the seal on the Four Sword had been his final answer to stop Ganondorf. At worst, nothing would change and the world would fall. At best, this monster could be the one to stop the King of Evil, and if they were all doomed anyway, wasnāt it worth the chance that this creature was a better option compared to Ganondorf? His only regret, should he fall here, was that he hadnāt been able to defeat Ganondorf for his kingdom.
No, he didnāt agree with that. Though he didnāt expect anyone to understand what he was doing. Ā
While the rest of the kingdom prayed while waiting for death to take them, he was doing everything he could to find a way, no matter how extreme, to stop Ganondorf. ThisĀ had been his answer, and as such he could hardly consider himself a dissenter.Ā
āThen it is true that you areĀ Vaati?ā he asked as he stood calmly, the smile still there. He spread his arms out indifferently, like he no longer had the energy to be concerned about yet another nightmare.
āI have no means to stop you, Sorcerer of Winds, should you decide to strike me down,ā he admitted,Ā āNor do I care if you do, for neither myself nor those who remain outside have much longer to live, and death may even be a mercy.Ā I am releasing you because I am placing hope - a small, dying hope - that you may be the answer in defeating the evil that has brought ruin to our world.ā
He stepped forward boldly towards the sorcerer, as though to dare them to end his life then. Ā Ā
āDo not misunderstand me: you may very well wish that I had never released you when you see for yourself what the world has become.āĀ
He slowly held out a hand, and with the hand he finally offered an answer to the question heād been asked. The harsher tone heād taken earlier softened into a murmur as he finally cast his gaze downwards. It was the voice of one who knew, deep down, that they were foolish in their attempts to stop the inevitable, but continued to fight against it anyway.Ā
āYou may call me Sheik,ā he said slowly.Ā āI am not so blind to think that you will listen to my hope that you can save us. However, I hope that when you leave this place and see how the world has changed under the reign of the dark king, you will remember my words to you.āĀ
āPlease, Sorcerer, defeat Ganondorf. For the future of us all.āĀ
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