(Zelink) The Legend of Zelda and the Last knight- Swords and Roses

Why we failed pt. 25 The Drowning Flame

Chapter

Why we failed pt.25

The Drowning Flame

Link paused at the top of the ancient stairwell, the lingering warmth of daylight at his back as his eyes fixed upon the spiraling depths below. Moss-covered stones slick with moisture shimmered faintly pale green, bathed in the delicate, ethereal radiance descended along walls so intricately carved he caught his breath at their quiet splendor. Instantly he was transported back to boyhood memories of the Zora Domain, where graceful arches and intricate bridges glowed gently with stones that seemed spun from captured moonlight. Hylians often whispered that the Zora artisans wove old enchantments into their architecture—tales Link had once accepted with quiet awe.

Now, gazing at the delicate flora blanketing these intricately carved walls, Link wondered if these strange, lakeweed-like vines drank deeply from the same hidden source of power, absorbing whatever ancient essence had granted those Zora stones their otherworldly luster. A thrill of wonder—and cautious apprehension—quickened his heartbeat as he stepped carefully forward, descending into the shimmering darkness below.

It was like stepping into a dream—a forgotten world, where Sheikah precision merged seamlessly with Zora elegance, their crafts entwined in graceful harmony, patterns of waves and currents interwoven with sharp, ancient lines.

Swallowing thickly, he took his first hesitant step, the sound echoing softly against the damp stone. The air was heavy—warm and dense like breath trapped within a sealed tomb. With each cautious descent, the daylight behind him dimmed further, shadows thickening, enveloping him in darkness as he journeyed deeper into the heart of this hidden sanctum. His fingertips grazed the slick stone walls for balance, the cool touch offering strange comfort against his mounting dread.

"Just breathe," he murmured quietly to himself, forcing air into lungs that tightened with each step downward. "Nothing but old stone and shadows. And puzzles and riddles. Just puzzles and riddles."

Yet even as he spoke, he shivered. Courage was easy enough beneath open skies, on training grounds under watchful eyes. But here—alone, beneath the crushing weight of stone and earth—it felt different. Here, courage was something fragile, delicate as kiln-spun glass and harder to grasp. The slightest misstep could burn or shatter your will.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, the spiraling stairs released him into a vast subterranean chamber. Link's eyes widened as they adjusted to the gloom, taking in the awe-inspiring sight. Only two dim flickering sconces beside the arch lit up his limited view. The chamber was immense, walls soaring upward and vanishing into darkness high above, the carvings becoming increasingly intricate as they ascended, lost in shadow. Before him stood a grand stone archway, imposing and closed, adorned with cryptic markings and symbols etched deeply within its surface. Riddles, he presumed. Tests meant for minds wiser than a mere cadet's.

"The second trial," he whispered to himself, almost reverently. "Wisdom....That would mean, if I remember, this would be the test of Lanayru's domain."

Turning slowly to survey the chamber, his gaze caught upon the pool behind him. It was perfectly round, expansive in its circumference, its dark waters eerily still, yet beckoning. He stepped closer, peering hesitantly over the edge. Hard to tell if it were filled with water or another substance it was so calm. He could only hope. Blackness met him as he stared, deep and endless. He shivered at the thought of what could lie beneath its fathoms —hidden creatures, lost secrets, or a sheer, drowning emptiness he could not imagine.

"No," he breathed softly, shaking his head, taking a deliberate step back from the edge. "Not unless I must."

He turned his attention back to the sealed doorway, heart steadying slightly at the solid, reassuring presence of carved stone. He moved forward, fingers brushing tentatively against the etched surface, tracing shapes he only half-recognized. The Triangles. The sacred crest, the royal sigil of Hyrule. Wisdom, courage, power. They stared back at him, silent yet expectant.