Chapter 5
Goddess of Time
The journey to Ikana began with a long, monotonous stretch of field followed by a long, monotonous stretch of rocky, bumpy path between jutting cliffs. When their travels extended into the fringes of twilight, the sun’s fading rays made yet frailer by the new presence of grey, wispy clouds, they finally graced the borders of Ikana.
No living thing seemed to grow. All was solid rock, and even its constant, reddish tint bored their already-weary minds and bodies. The path wound up and up and was easy to follow, mostly smooth at the first but littered with more and more potholes and craggy snares the further they traversed.
At last, the path grew very steep; Link and Midna had to grab onto each other, propelling each other along, using one another as walking sticks.
Then, stepping up over a final ridge, it loomed before them—the legendary canyon and the high cliff tops rising far beyond it.
From the vast expanse of the canyon, whose depths were hidden by ever-scrolling mists, several towering, rocky spires rose up. On top of each lay a flat surface so that they were very skinny plateaus of sorts, with just enough room for two people to stand upon and perhaps pace back and forth a bit. They created precarious stepping stones up to the cliff-tops high above where Link felt certain the Goddess of Time must reside. The one mystery was how to bridge the huge gaps of empty space between the stepping-stone spires.
Their only clue was a wooden post jutting out of the bottom-most spire, a target painted on its surface. If the legends were true, Link knew what that meant. Detaching the hookshot from his belt, he turned its gleaming silver over in his hands.
Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a big or mighty tool, especially next to the unseeable depths of the canyon, and especially comparing its weight with theirs. The stories of the Hero crossing such abysses so effortlessly no longer sounded so exhilarating.
Glancing over at Midna, he saw her staring at the canyon with the same profound horror he felt; it glared like a gaping, hungry mouth which is never satisfied. If they were to tumble inside, they would be like two, insignificant leaves fluttering down, down, down....
But what else could be done? The target post was a sign. It was their only sign. Link would need to be the strong one here. Midna already backed slowly away from the cliff’s edge, whether consciously or no. She was a strong young woman, but in such fear, it might be hard to persuade she who was also a stubborn young woman that this was the best way....
Apologizing fervently to her inside his mind, he swooped her up in his arms. She let out a small squeak of surprise, but before she could realize what he was up to, he aimed the hookshot, pulled the trigger—
The iron chain shot forth, and the iron claws at its end stuck fast in the post. He yanked hard to make sure there was no pulling them out.
“Link!” Midna cried pitifully, almost making him release her, but as she began to squirm, he knew it was now or never—
He released the trigger; the suspended chain contracted in what seemed the blink of an eye and yet a long, terrifying minute all at once. Midna hugged Link so tight it hurt, but he tried to focus on the target they swiftly flew towards. It really did feel like flying. That was the most frightening yet exciting part—the weightlessness. Air was the most solid thing surrounding him and Midna as they flew—
Their feet touched down, and they were safe.
Breathing hard, Link tried to set Midna on the spire’s flat summit. At first, she would not let go her tight grip at all, so he kept his arms wrapped close around her, waiting for her to calm; her heart beat wildly against him. Gradually, her fingers slipped from about his neck, her arms loosened, her body grew less rigid. She slid from him like a snake carefully slithering from danger.
At last, she stood on her own, closing her eyes—or maybe they’d been closed the whole time—and heaving a huge sigh before reopening them, their fires blazing lethally at Link.
“You little Imp,” she snapped. “Honestly, if I’d wanted a horrific joyride, I’d have saddled up with Tingle on his hot-air balloon....”
Link grinned.
“All right, all right—no, I wouldn’t have. I suppose, in the end of things, you did do a good job, Hero. Got us this far, at the least....”
She glanced uneasily into the abyss. Link felt it too—too much freedom, too much open air enclosing them. He clutched the hookshot tightly, feeling a little better, though he knew it couldn’t just magically spring forth and save them should one of them accidentally tip over the edge.
“Now what...?” Midna asked, gazing up at the next spire.
Link and Midna didn’t have to glance around long before she exclaimed, “Look! There. That tile. It looks different from the rest of the stone....”
Indeed, right next to where they stood, on the other side of the post, a square tile lay, very slightly raised from the rest of the spire’s surface. Its coloring was different too. Holding the edge of the post tight, Link carefully inched his way towards the tile; he had plenty of room to move about but felt more than a little claustrophobic, even a bit wobbly. He smirked at such irony. That he should feel so encased surrounded by so much nothingness.
Stepping on the tile, it lowered and clicked like a switch. A small rumble. Then, looking up, they saw a hookshot post appear atop the next spire up in their path.
“Brilliant!” Midna beamed, starting her way towards Link—
Then, she stopped short.
“There’s only enough room for one to stand on your side of the post,” she called, loudly as if they stood far apart. Link couldn’t deny it felt that way; he didn’t feel comfortable at all standing where he was, unable to assist her if something went awry.
“You’ll have to come back on this side so we can both use the hookshot.”
Link carefully stepped off the tile and made his way back over. He cast an apologetic look at Midna who tried to smile, though she looked like she’d rather eat a whole bowl-full of wriggling, hopping tektites than travel by hook-shot again. Then, scooping her up in his arms, he turned to aim the hookshot—
There was nothing to aim at. The post had vanished from the next highest spire. Link frowned. Midna frowned too, though he thought she looked a bit happier about the delay than she ought.
The next moment though, she was pouting, glancing uncomfortably at all the empty space still surrounding them. Link started back towards the tile, but she gently grabbed his arm.
“No, don’t,” she mumbled.
He stopped and sighed, knowing she was right, though he’d hoped she wasn’t. He’d heard of such puzzles. They would need some way of weighing the switch down so that the post would stay raised and they could hookshot their way across.
“Hmm...” Midna half-sighed, half-growled. Link’s head spun with hopes of conjuring a solution; Midna quickly grew agitated, though she fought hard against it with close-knit brows and clenching fists. He feared as she paced in such a small space, turning sharply very close to the cliff’s edge. If she grew too upset and absorbed in her rantings, she might just topple off the edge....
He sighed deep relief as she plopped on the stony crag beside him.
“Well, now what?” she growled clearly this time, then mumbled, “What would the Hero do if he was stuck in a tricky situation? A puzzle of sorts? Consider all options, look for the simplest solution not yet tried....”
Link had not heard much of the ancient temples and other trials endured by the Hero on his quest. However, what he had heard told him Midna was thinking along the correct lines. There must be something truly simple they were missing.
Link looked over at Midna and found her critically scanning the cliff-tops. Link began searching as well. Despite his usually-sharp gaze, he espied only the rising spires they were supposedly meant to climb to the top; how they should do so remained a mystery.
So, he took up Midna’s other suggestion—to search what they had on their person, considering all options. He couldn’t think of any objects th
ey’d received lately which might help. Save the hookshot, which was obvious, if they could figure out how to keep the post raised. Rummaging around in his sack, Link’s fingers tripped over some rope, a small hunting knife, twine, matches, then grazed a handful of rupees, and beside those—
With a grin, he pulled out a late birthday present from Sarita. His ocarina. Sarita had crafted the egg-shaped flute from the golden wood of the Kokiri’s finest Makar trees with her own hands.
As it gleamed with an egg-white sheen in the fading sunlight, Midna glanced over and smirked. “Of course. Of all things. If the Hero couldn’t figure something out, play a song. Figures you’d be a weirdo with a musical egg as well. Go ahead, pipe away....”
Placing the ocarina to his lips, he blew the first song which came to mind—Saria’s Song, that of the ancient forest sage whom Sarita was named for.
After playing a couple of rounds, nothing happened. Of course, there was always the off-chance he simply didn’t play the right song, but....
“Really? It could take ages for us to figure out what notes we need—if that’s even what we’re supposed to do!”
Despite Midna’s continued huffing, Link remained patient. The music at least calmed his nerves, allowing him to think more clearly. Standing up, he began to pace, repeating the song—
And was almost knocked backwards into the abyss as, with a small rumble, something rose from the square tile like a swiftly sprouting stalagmite. Lowering the ocarina, Link steadied himself and stood back with Midna to admire the statue which now stood on the tile, keeping the switch pressed firmly down. An exact replica of Link himself, playing the ocarina. It was strangely eerie how life-like the statue looked, vibrant color and all.
Midna shuddered yet gave a small grin. “Good call, Hero—or maybe just good luck. At any rate, it is a little unnerving looking at that thing, so...let’s get a move on, shall we?”
Link nodded enthusiastically and turned to the hookshot post clearly jutting from the next highest spire. Holding Midna close while she hugged him for all it was worth, he aimed the hookshot and released. The metal talons grabbed the post. As he released the trigger again, the chain shot them over the abyss, Midna shrieking the whole time until their feet touched down on the next rocky surface.
Midna sighed relief then glanced up disdainfully at the stretch of five more spires remaining before the final cliff-top. Making a nasty sort of face at them, she then turned to Link and said, “All right, Hero. Do your thing.”
Link played the song. And played. And played once more. And played over and over until his fingers grew sore.
This time, Midna’s attempted growl morphed into a weary sigh as she slouched to the ground.
“A good try, Link.” She smiled up at him, but he noted the tired glimmer in her eyes. It was not a physical tiredness but an emotional and mental one. He understood well; Midna was not one to not understand how to do something or else figure it out easily enough. She’d reassembled an entire mirror spanning their two Realms. Now, that something so simple should hold them back when she was just as eager as he to see their mission already completed....
Determination washed some of the weariness from her eyes as she looked up at him again. “Perhaps just a different song?”
He gave a firm nod, set the ocarina to his lips—
“Link...Link...”
“What is that voice?” Midna breathed, rising slowly to stand beside him.
Tremulous, Link’s hand rushed instinctively to his belt—only to realize that no sword hung there. Not that he owned a true blade, but even the wooden ones he practiced with would have served as a better defense than none at all.
“Here,” Midna drew a long, thin, silver rapier. “It is yours until you obtain your own.”
Gripping it tightly, Link moved close to Midna, scanning spires, cliff-tops, skies, and the space on which they rested—which seemed, of a sudden, even more compact with the statue’s presence—for any sign of where the voice and its perhaps-eminent danger might flow from.
“Link...and Midna too...
“Do not fear. You are indeed on the right path. I come to aid you with this riddle:
‘What is done within must be repeated without.’
“Remember, Link...”
The voice faded like a zephyr. All lay still in the twilit night once more.
Midna shivered. “What do you suppose...? Did you feel it, Link? Did you feel it too?”
She did not need to define “it” for him because he did feel it. A strange power emanating from that voice, commanding him to be still, despite its gentility and delicateness. It was that very gentility which made him want to listen, even as its secret power also made him listen.
“What do you suppose?” Midna repeated. “Surely, only the voice of one like a goddess could hold such power—and, I dare say, pop in at such a perfect time with the wisdom we needed to continue.
“What sense do you make of the riddle, Link? She said we were on the right path—I assume with the ocarina and songs. ‘What is done within must be done without....’”
Link thought hard. He thought hard over everything he’d done to make the first statue appear, trying to break down each step into the tiniest details, not wishing to miss anything which might be important. He’d played the song atop the tile. Then, he started pacing, yet playing. The statue appeared, along with the hookshot post....
Hadn’t he done all that just now? He’d played and kept playing and playing and—
Looking down, his eyes trailed to Midna. And the different-colored stone tile peeking from beneath her cloak. He had paced. He had played. But never upon the new tile. Gently tapping her and pointing, she studied his gestures with a curious frown before raising her brows in understanding and scrambling from her place atop the tile.
Standing on the tile, Link played Saria’s Song. When nothing happened, he played a few more rounds. When Midna excitedly breathed, “What must be done within must be done without,” literally dragging him off the tile, understanding flooded him as well, and he repeated the song—
The stone statue appeared beside them on the tile, a new hookshot post on the spire up above.
With an excited laugh, Midna grabbed onto Link, closing her eyes tight this time as they glided across the expanse, eerily weightless for a few moments. She still squealed but, as they landed, urged him excitedly to make the next post appear.
Over and over, he repeated the process, playing Saria’s Song while standing atop the tile, then repeating the song after he’d moved aside so the statue could appear, pressing the switch and causing the next post to pop up. Up and up they flew, until the end when Midna cried out with exhilaration, laughing as they reached the very top of the cliffs.
“I think I am actually sad now to see an end to that, now I’ve gotten used to it,” she laughed gaily, and Link grinned.
Then, they looked up, and as the clouds sifted aside, starlight glittered upon the temple of the Goddess of Time.
It was a small structure, strange but magnificent once one’s eyes adjusted. The first thing Link couldn’t help but notice—and saw Midna’s eyes stare curiously at as well—was that the Temple was built upon some sort of ruins. As if some ancient tribe or other, having torn down the temple of their enemy’s heathen god, decided to flaunt their victory to the world by just leaving the ruins there and building the new temple for their own goddess atop. The Temple itself, strangely enough, appeared perfectly level atop the ruins, as if the victors had taken pangs to rearrange the rubble to make it so. The Temple was an ordinary stone structure, tall but small, with pillars flanking the grand double doors. All was gilded in a glass-like gold, gleaming like a yellow diamond in the moonlight. Though beautiful, Link thought it seemed a small structure for a deity gifted with so great a title as “Goddess of Time”. Then again, if she truly was master over all time, perhaps she was not as bound by the elements of space, desire for the material, and boredom as humans were. Or perhaps she sim
ply made her home in many temples scattered across time and space.
As Midna and Link crept over the rubble towards the Temple, Link glanced with interest at the bits of shattered past strewn about, wondering about the place’s history, hungry to know more should he ever get the chance to return. Glimpses of faded paintings and carvings on the ruins—giant, leering eyes, and stars, and a hideous scorpion-like creature—intrigued his curious mind.
Reaching the steps scaling up to the towering double doors, they slipped up and crept inside.
The doors closed without a sound, sealing them within a room simple but fair. The floor was tiled with marble squares alternating pearly black and glittering white, their magic sparkle enhanced by the moonbeams sifting through the tall arched windows, peeking between the pillars towering on either side of a golden carpet. The carpet flowed up the length of the temple, up the steps of a white marble dais, to rest at the feet of an immense, white marble thrown. Nestled in the throne, sitting tall, straight, but comfortably, as if she’d always belonged there, was the Goddess of Time herself.
Billowing gold and white robes swathed her delicate body, sweeping the floor like moonbeams; real moonlight set all a glitter—the robes, her silvery-copper skin, her night-ebony curls, her apricot eyes.
“Welcome, dearest descendant of the Hero, and you, Midna, Heroine of Old....”
Her voice flowed as richly as the sun represented in her eyes, echoing with a soft but certain power throughout the temple. Its power did not frighten but rather soothed, like a lullaby. This truly was where they were meant to be in that exact moment of time.
“A long time have I waited here to greet you—and to thank you, Link. It is your ancestor who freed me and allowed me to return to my rightful place of dwelling and worship. In all these many, many years, no evil has befallen my Temple again....
“But now, as you know, a greater evil would seek to assail my whole Realm, as well as yours and Midna’s. Thus, I will not prolong your stay. I will grant what you need and send you on your way; time indeed is of the utmost essence, especially now....”
From beneath her flowing folds, she presented a glistening harp made of golden glass. Even the strings shimmered, strung of the delicate stuff. Fingers long, graceful, and light as feathers touched the strings which vibrated, quietly but with an unexpected sound, like a choir readying itself for a great performance. Link smiled to himself, thinking upon the Kokiri choir.
“Link, take out your ocarina....”
Link did so, setting it to his lips, ready.
“...and Midna. I believe you, as the Sage of Shadow, know what is expected?”
Link stared, his mind stumbling on the word “Sage;” Midna, a sage? On top of being the Twilight queen and the one holding one of the Wisdom Shards? How had she left out that important detail?
Midna didn’t seem to take note of his reaction. She nodded at the Goddess and drew from her own cloak a long, silver flute. She set her lips and fingers in place, and then looked up at the goddess who began to play.
It was not long before a whole chorus of sweet but powerfully resonating voices, as well as the pure strain of the flute, flooded the Temple and swelled Link’s heart. Link played along, filled with the passionate melody. The notes the goddess granted were few, and she and Midna repeated them many times to ascertain Midna mastered them well. Even still, Link’s heart seemed to break a little as the celestial climax waned into an echoing hush.
Link slipped his ocarina inside his satchel, and Midna returned her flute beneath her cloak and gazed up at the goddess with new reverence. Peace glowed upon her face, as well as an eagerness, as if she and the goddess were now connected by some unbreakable bonds Link wished he could be fettered by as well.
Seeming to understand, the goddess smiled warmly.
“Yes, the song is now a part of you, Midna. It is yours, you own it, and you will feel and know this every time you play it.
“I have just granted you the first of three parts of the ancient Song you must reassemble.
“This Song is called ‘Midna’s Requiem.’”
Midna could not suppress a gasp. She studied the goddess with furrowed, curious brow, even a bit of concern.
Link squeezed her hand. It was a true honor to have the Song they sought named after her. Still, its title was frightening, and he hoped it represented a temporary sleep, or—if truly a more permanent one—that it was meant to somehow quell death rather than create it.
Though her eyes remained fixed with concern upon the goddess, Midna squeezed his hand back fervently, a silent thanks for his support.
The goddess only smiled calmly before continuing,
“You may wonder why two parts of the Song lie in Termina, one in Twilight, and none in Hyrule. One part used to lie in each realm, but the holder of the second, the Many-Link, travels across all three realms and currently resides in Termina. Thus, here he is, and here you shall continue until you find him.
“I can grant you also my piece of the Triforce before you go; as a spirit, I have no need of it, nor shall I die in its passing on, as would befall the living. I am already of the Spirit Realm, dead to your own Realm.
“Step forward, Hero of Time, and accept my gift....”
The goddess folded her silvery hands and closed her eyes, as if in reverential prayer. The Triforce glowed brilliantly but a mere moment upon her hand before vanishing and glowing instead upon Link’s hand. Link gazed down in awe. One of the nine triangles was now completed upon his hand, his first of the three Courage Shards. Already, he felt stronger, more capable.
“Go now, dear Heroes. The path ahead lies that way....”
She swept one arm out to her right. Link and Midna looked over at a sapphire warp crystal standing vertically several feet off, ready to transport them from the Temple.
Link gave the goddess a solemn look but one he hoped was full of the gratitude and exhilaration washing over him at having obtained their first piece of the Song, as well as a Triforce Shard. The same excitement gleamed thoroughly in Midna’s eyes as she bowed her head in a final gesture of thanks.
Then, together, they stepped into the blue light which began to wrap its warm folds around them.
“Well done, Heroes...”
“The voice again!” Midna had just enough time to gasp before the crystal’s sunny folds enclosed them completely.