by N Felts
a counterattack. It is now that Link sees Garo for what he is. Not an indestructible machine or a masterful swordsman, but an undead warrior with an eternal grudge. A mere vessel powered exclusively by hatred and willpower.
“Can you feel the walls closing in around you?” Garo asks, meticulously slicing and stabbing, waiting for the opportune moment to strike the hero down. Two quick parries on his left, one on his right, then an overhead twirling attack buys Link another moment as he continues to backpedal. The ninja will never tire, and he will not stop until the Hylian’s arms grow too weak to swing a blade. “Can you feel it pressing against your chest? The air being forced from your lungs?” He continues to taunt, relishing in the crescendo building toward his victory. Quickly growing overconfident, Garo lets a swing linger a second too long, his chest vulnerable for only a moment. A vicious stab rams all the way through him, Link’s sword piercing out the back of the ninja’s robe. “Will you admit it to yourself?” He asks, after a grunt of exertion from the would-be deathblow. “Once you’ve fallen, and cannot protect your woman from my wrath.” He declares, whipping both swords upward in an attempt to cleave the hero’s hands off with the last word. Reaching back in after the near miss, Link rips his blade back out of Garo’s chest, barely managing to deflect the next attack. “Will that fearlessness fade from your eyes? Will it,” he starts, only just noticing the gradually building whirlwind behind him.
A bold, horizontal slash clips the neckline of the zombie’s robe just before he clashes both swords atop Link’s raised blade, then lands a brutal front kick to Link’s stomach, throwing the hero backward and onto his face on the dry ground. Spinning around to discover the source of the wind, Garo’s concern lessens when he finds Zelda at the center of a bluish-green orb, channeling her elemental power into a focused attack. The consistent wind billowing against his large poncho, the ninja awaits the inevitable attack with no fear of the outcome. Seconds later, Zelda’s eyes lock onto him in a furious glare, her cupped hands near her stomach slowly separating as the preparations are completed. With a scream of exertion, she unleashes the storm, a destructive blast of wind blasting the ring of fire away and tearing grass from the earth in a large radius around her. Not expecting the discharge to be quite so potent, Garo is thrown into the darkness of Hyrule Field with a deep grunt. Immediately dashing to Link’s side, Zelda finds him weary, but far from finished as he climbs back to his feet.
“I fear I must bring this battle to an end,” a voice whispers in the wind. Treading on shadows, Garo moves without sound or essence, intending to deal the final blow to his prey. Standing back to back, both Link and Zelda scour the darkness, preparing themselves for the inevitable sneak attack. Though her senses are operating on a wholly different level than those of her companion, the queen finds herself unable to sense the soulless antagonist at all. Without warning, a translucent pane of glass forms beside one of the torches illuminating the drawbridge in the distance, hovering at just the right angle to reflect the light. Appearing like a tumbling wave of conjured windows, more ethereal mirrors spawn in rapid succession, reflecting and amplifying the meager amount of light. In seconds, half of Hyrule Field glows as if the sun has suddenly leaped over the horizon. Confused and visibly infuriated by the bizarre magic, Garo is revealed a short distance from his prey. Stranger still, Geist approaches from the west, chugging a bottle of potion as he stumbles closer. Watching the spectacle in wonder, the three warriors stand stupefied as the reaver begins to whistle in short succession as if he were calling a dog.
“Alright, in you go,” he commands as if his desire should be obvious. Holding his empty bottle outward, Link sees he is gesturing for Garo to enter the soul trap of his own accord. A bold, yet moronic taunt certain to get him killed.
“What mockery is this?” The ninja demands, leaping at the bumbling fool aggresively. Without a second to react, both Link and Zelda can only watch in horror as the drunken wanderer meets Garo’s blades. A lightning-fast strike smashes the bottle to pieces, prompting Geist to stare at his emptied hand disappointedly. Crossing both arms, the ninja intends to cleave his head completely off when another conjured mirror appears between the two of them, reflecting a blinding beam of light directly into Garo’s eyes. “Ahhhhhrgh,” he groans, his rage increasing exponentially as the wanderer saunters away, avoiding the ninja’s blind flurry of swings.
“Are you crazy?” Zelda cannot help but ask as he approaches. Directly behind him, the robed zombie has regained his vision, and has begun to shake with rage.
“What are you on about? You can’t kill ‘em with elements you know,” he points out, stumbling a step as he turns to face the charging ninja. Quickly reaching into a pocket inside his coat, the reaver produces a small seed, dropping it onto the ground before turning back to face the dumbstruck duo. “You should get a kick out of this one,” he smiles, lifting his eyebrows with excitement. A deep growl signals Garo’s approach, but the moment before he leaps into his strike, a Deku Baba bursts from the ground, snapping at the zombie hungrily. Not expecting such an unorthodox trick, Garo’s reflexes still prove a nuisance, dodging the snarling jaws with ease. Ducking forward, he lops the plants head off with a single stroke before standing upright and deciding how he would prefer to murder the ghost hunter.
“If you’re trying to make him angrier, you’re succeeding,” Zelda points out, preparing to defend herself.
“No worries, love,” Geist chuckles, relaxing as if he were about to watch a performance. “Got these seeds from the Deku king himself,” he boasts, patting his coat pocket. “You haven’t got these have you? Deku Hydras,” he explains, eyeing the headless stem with anticipation as he throws his arms over the shoulders of his self-declared allies. Immediately bucking them off, both Link and Zelda eye the peculiar wanderer as he is only temporarily disappointed by the lack of trust, straitening his coat in a futile attempt to remain modest. Truly taken by surprise the second time around, the ninja beheads another sprout as two of the hungry plants burst from the single stem. A warm splatter of saliva slaps against Garo’s robe before he executes the second carnivorous sprout. Immediately forced to leap back a step, the livid zombie narrowly avoids the torrent of snapping jaws when four heads replace the severed pair. “Hahaha! Look at him!” Geist laughs, prodding Link with an elbow as he continues to enjoy the show.
“Enough!” Garo bellows, realizing he is being exploited for sport. A distinct rumbling sounds from beneath the earth, and moments later the ground beneath the four headed monstrosity begins to crack and split apart. A massive plume of fire engulfs the summoned foliage, disintegrating the screeching plant instantly. Lowering his head, the ninja has clearly had enough of Geist’s mockery and games, marching toward the reaver with slaughter in his eyes.
“Oi, oi, oi!” Geist shouts, holding out his arms to express his disapproval. “Not fair!”
“I know who you are,” Garo reveals, standing tall and ceasing his approach for the moment. “What you are.” Suddenly freezing in place, the reaver’s expression grows deadly serious as he stares at his shrouded rival. “Fate would have the last of the Ikana fall at the hands of the Garo. A fitting end.”
“Right. So the gloves are coming off then? I hope you’ve got more than those butter knives in your burqa you mummified twit.” Geist asserts, holding his level stare.
“You would mock me as your people mocked the Gods,” the ninja points out, growing almost cavalier. “You see why it was so easy for them to exterminate you.” The last line stabs Geist somewhere deep beyond his flesh, his expression twitching in a momentary submission to anger. Noting he has finally managed to get under the discourteous Ikanian’s skin, Garo decides the time has come to play his trump card. After a deep breath, Geist addresses the duo behind him.
“Stand back. This ain’t your fight, yeah?” He demands with a wholly different tone than they have grown accustomed to. Heeding his words, Link glances at Ze
lda, seeing she intends to do the same. Slowly backing away, they are not prepared for the ninja to attack so suddenly. Flipping high into the air, Garo’s form explodes with shuriken, hundreds of the small metal stars blasting in every direction and obliterating the amply illuminated setting Geist had created. The heroes of Hyrule blink out of sight as the reaver is left in the deadly darkness. Lifting his single exposed palm, the snakelike, tribal tattoo weaving down the Ikanian’s arm begins to glow, and from his hand, a spectral ball covered with small spikes assimilates.
“You are the final remnant of a disease, boy,” Garo growls, becoming one with the darkness. The spiked ball in Geist’s hand resembles what one might find at the end of a morning star or flail, and channeling his potent magical reserves, dozens more of the ethereal projectiles begin to pour from his upturned palm like a frothing faucet. “The Garo are the chosen ones. The cure to your infection, and even in death, you will find no respite from us.” The faintly glowing orbs spilling from the reaver’s hand spread out in every direction, rolling into organized lines and establishing