"Shadow Temple…here is gathered Hyrule's bloody history of greed and hatred…"

xXxXxXxXxXx

When he woke to Wisdom's call, when his eyes first cracked open to behold the sole survivor of his people's destruction, he should have known.

The Royal Family had vowed to never wake him—or any of them. Their Goddess had sealed the tombs, silenced their souls, closed the passages off from the rest of the world in her grief.

They had broken their vows, expecting him to uphold those he had fulfilled long ago.

He should have known.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Nightmares. Ghosts. Monsters.

That was their legacy. That was all that was left of them, after centuries of death, centuries of sacrifice. Hatred, fear, revulsion, and a faded inscription upon a crumbling gravestone in a derelict graveyard.

Only the whispers of the traitor held respect, adoration.

Revenge burned in his heart, demanding they pay the blood price for their failings, their betrayals. He wanted to take up a blade, to destroy those who had already destroyed his people.

Yet he still wove the Hero's pattern, sang the Hero's songs. Still, he told the sacred secrets he had vowed never to give away to the Hero chosen by Farore.

Nayru never answered his prayers.

Hatred festered, deep within.

But he found he could not resist.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Once, only once, did he ever hear anyone ask why. The Hero, whispering to the fairy in the black of night, something he wasn't supposed to overhear.

The fairy, a holy creature serving the remnants of Farore's power on Hyrule, answered falsely.

She told him they betrayed the Goddesses for power.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Identity. Truth. Freedom. Life.

None of them mean anything to him. Ashen words on his tongue, while he guided the Hero and danced as a puppet should.

Impa had shattered her vows to Nayru at the last minute. She had shouted for them to follow her, that they would break free of the bonds of the Goddess' will, gain a life and identity of their own, if they would open their eyes to the truth of what freedom was.

Her actions haunted him, even as he kept his lips closed and traveled where she bid him to go.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Hylians could hear the whispers of the Goddesses in the wind.

Sheikah could see them.

xXxXxXxXxXx

He was torn from her, seething with rage at her childish desires, vapid dreams. Stone materialized around him as he crashed to the ground beneath her prism, sprawled out, immobile.

The Gerudo knelt carefully beside him, a faint noise of surprised amusement escaping him.

"I did not think she would dare call upon you."

"Sheik-" Zelda's tearstained voice cut off in a pitiful whimper. He stared at her, eyes cold, emotionless, while her lips moved soundlessly.

Hatred roiled in his gut.

"Does she know what she's done?"

"…No."

He supposed, at that moment, that was why he had not slain her yet. It was the traitor who deserved death, not her. She was naïve and knew nothing, but she was not at fault. The one who had guided her hand was.

He turned his head to look up at the Gerudo. The Black King wasn't looking at him, rather, he was staring into the space beyond him.

The weight of his years seemed a burden, then.

"Your foolishness, Princess, is matched only by your youth."

xXxXxXxXxXx

There came a time when the Goddesses' favorite race began to crumble in the depths of their corruption. They desecrated the Goddesses' temples, coveted sacred artifacts, and began to murder one another carelessly.

For the first time, Hylian hands were stained with blood.

xXxXxXxXxXx

The flow of time is always cruel.

Words whispered to the Hero while he again betrayed his Goddess.

She answered his prayers them, appearing before him, weeping silently, gently reaching out to strum a song on his harp.

He'd vowed to cut his tongue out before revealing the songs to anyone, and it was her movements, her forgiveness, that made him bow his head and obey the traitor. Nayru hid the brunt of her sorrow at breaking her own vows.

But she could not hide her loathing of the traitor.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Hylians said Farore was the merciful Goddess.

How little they knew.

It was Nayru, Goddess of Wisdom, who knew that when the Hylian's evil was discovered by her sisters, Hyrule would be turned to dust and a new world begun.

Her Sheikah, the children she loved so dearly, would be destroyed.

For the first, and the last time, she donned a cloak of flesh and begged her children to listen to her.

And, unwaveringly loyal, they annihilated themselves for her.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Someone was touching his Seal, tugging at the ancient holy magic that kept him—and his kindred—safe. His eyes opened and he quickly stood. Brittle bones and dried flesh cracked, reforming into a semblance of what he would have appeared in life.

The ancient leather strapped to his waist crumbled as he drew his blade. It, too, had decayed with time, but as his fingers swelled with life, the metal repaired itself until it was again a long, gleaming length of silver.

The stone in front of him exploded, bursting towards him. He twisted his body as he was knocked off of his feet in an attempt to avoid the projectiles.

The stone crushed a number of coffins-he couldn't hear himself scream for them, the Sheikah that would pass to Shadow, but he knew he was.

And then he crashed into the wall, head snapping sharply against it. He felt the bone break, and his vision swam as he crumpled to the ground.

Stepping into the tombs, through billowing clouds of dust, was a figure he had thought he would never see again. Behind Impa came a smaller shadow, following the former Sheikah closely.

"…Sheik. I should have known it would be you to greet us." Impa's voice was pleasant, belying the fact she was speaking to the nephew she had slain so long ago.

It took all he had to stay focused. He couldn't have responded if he'd wanted too.

She kneeled in front of him, steel-grey hair pulled back into a severe bun. The smaller shadow, a girl child, stared at him with wide eyes. He caught her gaze for a split second-

His heart shattered, for the memories he still treasured.

The child he had died for had been reborn, as it had been foretold

"Impa, is he dead?" She whispered, voice barely audible.

"No. Only injured. Now, unwrap your hand."

For the first time in centuries, he saw the Triforce.

Fear, for the first time in a long while, touched him. Wisdom had returned.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Each Sheikah had a partner, a Hylian counterpart they guarded with their life.

Nayru bid them to tear the darkness out of their counterpart's soul. After, the Sheikah would retreat to the catacombs they guarded, sequestering themselves from their counterparts so that the darkness they removed could not find its way back, and pass into death soundlessly.

He had been a child at the time, around ten or eleven. He had agreed to his Goddesses demands immediately. Zelda, his counterpart, had begged him not to.

It had been Impa who had comforted her, told her it was for the best. He hadn't know what to say to her—but Impa had.

And, after he had torn her soul apart, after he had taken all of her pain from her, Impa had betrayed them.

Slain Nayru's mortal form, and drawn her dagger across his own throat.

She'd claimed it was to save him.

Dying, he had clung to the part of Zelda's soul he held, so tightly even death could not take it from him. His soul remained silent in his husk of a body, until Nayru's magic reanimated him.

Just in time to become enslaved by the traitor and his counterpart.

xXxXxXxXxXx

He acted without thinking.

The Hero fought back, warding off his blows and even managing to reply in kind to some of the nicks he received.

And then he was weeping, tears streaming from his face as the Hero's blade shot through his side, falling onto the Hylian with a sob.

The Hero panicked, fearful of inflicting a fatal wound. Sheik laughed a bitter, wet laugh, and pulled away, slipping free of the Hero's sword easily.

The wounds he had received stood out starkly, now that his bandages had been removed. Bloodless, flesh torn and shredded and bruised, bones protruding out at awkward angles, he knew full well he would only reinforce the horrors Hylians believed of the Sheikah.

"Will potion…?"

"No. I am not…truly alive, Hero." He breathed, falling back against the wall behind him. The Hero let out a slow breath.

His fairy illuminated their surroundings with her pale light, made visible the dust and blood caked on the Hero's face.

"Oh."

"Where is Zelda?"

"Safe. Ganondorf's dead. I couldn't…I mean…I asked her where you were. And she just…broke down. The Sages are up there."

It was over?

"Will you do something for me, Hero?" His gaze lifted from the floor, eyes wide, his youth suddenly painfully clear.

He closed his eyes to the sight, body tensing.

"She can't touch me while I remain here. The remnants of Ganondorf's power…cloak me. But if I go with you, she'll have me kill the others, and I…"

He didn't know why he asked. He was tired, exhausted—it had been far too long since he had left the Temple, and his soul was stretched thin—and if anyone would understand, it would be the Hero. His voice still broke, rasping and dry and a sob rattled its way out of him before he could stop it.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"I want to free the others."

If his head could have moved, it would have. She moved back into his line of view, tying her hair back. She didn't look at him.

What did…?

"When this is over, after Ganondorf is dead, you'll free them. You will return to the Shadow Temple and destroy every one of those vessels."

"No!" It was a bark, sharp and angry and horrified and furious and hateful, and it escaped him so suddenly and so powerfully even her command of silence couldn't keep it in.

Her gaze snapped to him, suddenly cold.

"What was that?"

"If you want to keep dirtying your hands with the blood of innocents, you will do it yourself."

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Who?"

"Impa." His fairy's light flickered, wings stilling for a heartbeat.

"…Why?"

He grabbed the Hero's hand, and guided his fingers to his throat.

The skin there was dry, brittle, and as he exhaled, a soft puff of air brushed the Hero's fingertips.

xXxXxXxXxXx

He was safe in his cell when he felt Ganondorf fall, felt the shuddering of the tower crumbling above him as stone sealed off the dungeons.

Another tomb, perhaps?

A sad, bitter smile stretched its way across his lips.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Okay."

xXxXxXxXxXx

He woke to the soft tread of boots, the crunch of bone beneath an intruder's weight.

Breath came to his lungs, limbs twitching as life returned, and he soundlessly slipped free of his coffin.

"Sheik? Are you…Are you here?"

A child's voice. He didn't recognize it, and his eyes narrowed as he sought the shadow that didn't belong.

"…How do you know that name?"

"I just…Zelda said I should leave you alone. She said you wouldn't remember. I…I just wanted to tell you." The familiarity in the child's voice stirred some half-remembered thought in the back of his head, and he stared, hostility draining away.

"Who are you?"

"I did it. I mean, here, before she…before Impa came here. She can't…She won't hurt you. Not anymore. Zelda said the Sages took care of her spirit."

He froze. This boy…knew the traitor? Had, what? Killed her?

Why?

"Who are you?" He whispered, taking a half-step back.

"…You really don't remember? My…I'm Link."

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Thank you."

xXxXxXxXxXx

"…Hero."