by N Felts
time. He has received a triangle on his hand as well, but unlike the recently departed combatants, his does not possess the golden glow of the Triforce. The inverted pyramid glows a haunting, transparent blue, allowing him to see clearly through his own palm. His senses rapidly grow fuzzy as his balance wavers, the room tilting and rotating around him slowly. Thoroughly overwhelmed, the boy passes out in a bed of shadows.
The Empty Handed:
Some Safety Comes in Numbers
Lying inert in a dreamless sleep, Rift fails to notice the thin beam of light tracing an arc through the large room as most of the day passes. He hears a woman’s voice softly calling, but he cannot make out the words. A silhouette of a stranger he cannot seem to reach, always drifting just out of earshot. Lost in the dark blanket of his mind, he subconsciously yearns for his mother’s warmth, having spent too many nights shivering himself to sleep. Gradually surfacing from his impromptu slumber, the subtle coo of, “wake up,” only courses him to stir slightly before descending back into unconsciousness. “Hey!” The voice finally declares with some authority. Snapping to attention, Rift’s eyes dart about his surroundings, but he is alone in the large room. Just as the previous night, the colossal structure is void of external influence, the sounds of the forest halting at its doors. “Listen,” the voice begins, her friendly tone sounding as though it should belong to a middle aged woman. “Your hand glows with the power of the void. You are the chosen one,” she explains, her mildly chipper manner sounding mature, but not maternal. Thoughtful, but not compassionate.
“W-what?” Rift eventually stammers, understandably perplexed. Locking his eyes upon his palm, he instantly remembers the eerie hue resonating from the transparent triangle. A subtly swirling vortex daring his eyes to move closer. Somewhere in the infinite depths of the dimensional window, he can feel the enticing call of a siren as invisible hooks tug at his heart, drawing him closer and closer.
“That Gerudo shattered the Triforce again,” the voice explains, unintentionally snapping Rift out of his trance. “You know the legend, right?”
“Triforce? What’s going on? Who are you?”
“Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself I suppose. My name is Mai,” she greets, waiting for the gesture to be returned. “What’s yours?” She has to ask to break the awkward silence.
“Rift,” he reveals after a bit of thought. Unsure of whom or what he is speaking to, he decides it knowing his name is the least of his worries.
“Nice to meet you, Rift,” she smirks, seemingly pleased to simply be conversing.
“Y-yeah,” he mumbles, still searching the empty room with his back to the wall.
“You look confused,” she giggles. Obviously a carefree spirit, her casual nature speeds Rift to a less panicked state of mind. Easing off the wall he continues to listen. “This might come as a shock, but I’m one of the goddesses responsible for this world. When that man broke the Triforce, I was finally released, and you have become likened to my essence.”
“Goddesses?” He interjects, setting aside the prospect of having lost his mind for the moment. “I thought Hylia was the only goddess.”
“Of course,” she sighs, a hint of attitude seeping through her words for the first time. “Hyruleans haven’t worshiped us for a long time now. Everyone used to know the legend of the three golden goddesses. Time has found new deities and they’ve forsaken us,” she admits, suddenly sounding quite sad.
“Three goddesses?” Rift thinks out loud, the influx of information distracting him from the fact that there is a voice in his head that isn’t his own. The general naiveté proves advantageous if only to distract him from far grander revelations.
“The popular legend has remained three, yes, but in fact there have always been four. My sisters didn’t want anyone to know about me, and time has proven them successful in their endeavors. Even when the Triforce was first separated, they only offered a taste of their power to the recipients. The majority was kept intact to sustain my imprisonment,” she reveals, a substantial bitterness lingering in her words.
“Imprisonment? What’d you do?” He asks with unhindered trepidation. As if having a voice in his head weren’t bad enough, she’s an escaped criminal to boot. Suddenly, her happy-go-lucky routine pales in comparison to her potential crimes.
“It’s not what I did. It’s what they were afraid I would do. I never wanted this world to become what it has. There is nothing but pain and suffering in every corner of this kingdom. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” She asks, her compassion shining through her words. “You’ve felt it yourself?”
“Yeah,” he has to admit with a somber nod. His parents taken from him. The drought, the crime, the hunger, the weakness, and the humiliation begin to well up in him. All of it has crushed down upon him his entire life. To no end but his own torment. He’d never truly thought about the meaning of it all. Why he is meant to suffer day after day. Why the other children are driven to harass him at every turn. Why the lands are plagued with dark uprisings time and time again. He has neither the knowledge nor the experience to even attempt an understanding. This is simply the only world he’s ever known.
“This is why we were drawn together. My sisters were forced apart so severely I was finally able to escape. It’s terrible what they’ve done to everyone. What they’ve done to you,” she points out, pulling Rift from his vacant stare. Suddenly, this ancient lie he’s never known is given form and has a voice. The existence of goddesses of creation, perpetually stained with a civilization’s anguish, rotates all the hidden pieces into perspective. His sorrow finally attains a source, daunting as it may be. “If I could have stopped them, you wouldn’t have been forced to endure all of this suffering. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, though,” he quickly points out, feeling genuinely empathetic for the mysterious voice of Mai. “They all ganged up on you, right?”
“Yes,” she sighs, seeming to want to change the subject. “I’m no match for them on my own.”
“I know how you feel,” he admits, trailing off as his memories drift to Rho, jabbing at him mercilessly. Though Rift takes no pleasure in the misfortune of others, seeing the boy fail to defend the other children gave him an overdue bit of satisfaction, however brief. Ona’s screams of terror slapped the feeling from his heart as Rift ran as fast as his legs could carry him, his eyes mashed shut as he tried to block out the horrified cries. He couldn’t have helped them. It’s the only reasoning he has ever needed. He couldn’t have helped if he tried.
“Would you help me?” She asks, a profoundly innocent curiosity pressing into his ears.
“H-help you? I c-can’t,” he mumbles, instantly uncomfortable. “I mean, I can’t do anything well. I wouldn’t be any help.”
“That’s not true,” she giggles, rapidly growing more comfortable with her new companion. “Everyone can do something well.”
“Well not me. You should find someone else,” he blurts out, quickly regretting it when an uncomfortable lull in the conversation ensues.
“I chose you, Rift,” she half-whines, prodding at his vulnerable sympathy. “I don’t want someone else.” Badly blushing in the dim room, Rift doesn’t have the words to respond. In the silence that follows, he feels as though she is in the room with him. She is sitting right next to him, so close he can feel her breath against his neck. She is real, and she chose him. A lifetime of rejection has led him to being chosen the one time it truly matters. It seems all but foolhardy to refuse.
“What do you want me to do?” He finally asks, an anxious quiver tickling down his spine.
“I don’t want you to do anything against your will,” she admits, her tone heightening as she tries to avoid offending. “All I want is to stop my sisters before they can hurt anyone else. I can’t do it on my own, but together I think we might stand a chance.”
“I’m not brave,” Rift painfully admits, not wanting
to enter into a contract under false pretenses.
“You don’t have to be,” Mai chuckles, sensing him slowly coming around.
“I’m not strong either,” he declares, feeling more and more pathetic with each proclamation.
“It’s not about being strong or brave,” she comforts, reaching out a nonexistent hand to touch his cheek. “I just need you to try.”
“Why?” He sighs, ready to give up long before he’s begun. “Why me?”
“Because you’re the only one who sees the pain I see. I feel like I can trust you.”
“I don’t know,” he sighs, weighing his options.
“Please? I don’t want to be alone anymore. Do you?” His eyes instantly betray his potent loneliness as he reacts to the question. She wants to be with him. Despite all of his shortcomings, she wants to be with him. The instant emotional attachment doesn’t seem real to the boy. “If you’ll help me, I’ll never leave you,” she expresses, her words conveying her genuine feelings well.
“Promise?” Rift asks after a moment.
“Promise,” Mai promptly agrees.
“Okay. Where do we start?”
“Thank you. We should get out of here before it gets dark,” she admits, noting the late afternoon sun peering through the small hole in the high ceiling.
“Where are we going?” He asks, starting