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Link materialized in front of Ikana’s Owl Statue, taking a deep breath. He coughed, the dry air assaulting his lungs like he just inhaled a mouthful of sand. Just something he had to get used to, for there was much to do.
Ikana reeked of death, the whole place just exuding a dangerous aura that would send any normal traveler running with their tail between their legs. Not Link, though. Whether he acted because of courage or just plain old stupidity, his companion couldn’t say, she found him as unpredictable as the weather.
Tatl disliked Ikana more than anybody. Everything about the place just pushed all her buttons in all the wrong ways. Being a fairy, she could sense certain things that Terminans, Deku, Zora, Gerudo, and Gorons couldn’t, and the canyon bombarded her so much that it proved a struggle to stay composed.
“Let’s get a move on,” Tatl grumbled, a headache already setting in.
Link nodded, taking careful steps up the hill to the bizarrely shaped house that was encircled by Gibdo. He learned that the Stone Mask was useless against them, so he tiptoed up to the door. After knocking twice, he pressed his ear against the wood, listening for any movement inside. Nothing. Why would Gibdo be staking out the house if there was no one inside? Only when he tried to turn the knob did he get some signs of life.
“K-Keep away from our house!” screamed a meek, girlish voice, “My father isn’t one of you!”
“W-Wait, I-” Link stammered, confused. Whoever it was behind the door, she sounded younger than him. She wasn’t alone in there, but what could she mean with saying that her father isn’t ‘one of you’?
“Uh… Link?” Tatl whispered worriedly, a shadow looming over her and her friend, “Can we hurry this up? The freaks are starting to take notice of us!”
Turning around, Link was greeted by the outstretched arms of a Gibdo. It was dangerously close, so he ducked and dived between its legs before it could grab him.
“Wrrrryyyyy…” the undead groaned, swinging its arms. It missed, and then lurched backwards, joints popping wetly, twisting in an inhuman manner all to reach its target. When it realized it would not succeed, it belt a scream so piercing it blew out Link’s ears for a moment.
“No!” Tatl flew up and shined her light in the Gibdo’s exposed eye, blinding it. When Link recovered, he finally unsheathed his sword.
“HYAH!” Link jabbed once, poking the Gibdo in the chest. All it did was alert the other Gibdo that the boy was, indeed, a threat. When he saw more bandaged beasts limp into view, he knew he was totally outnumbered. He dodged another attempt on his life and fell into a long ditch to the right of the house.
The ground was soft and mushy, like he were crawling in some dried-up riverbed. Muddy flakes stuck to his tunic, but that was hardly worth an ounce of concern. A quick glance back at the Gibdo helped him see a mill wheel connected to the house, the channel leading into it. Scrambling to his feet, he tied the Bunny Hood to his head and ran up the hill, following the dead watercourse into a cave, escaping the Gibdo for now.
Panting, Link leaned against a wall and slid down to sit. The ringing in his ears was so bad that he felt dizzy. He didn’t expect these Gibdo to be any different from the ones back home, so he was lucky he didn’t get his life sucked away by their cold, dead hands.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Tatl said snottily, crossing her arms, “That makes five!”
“Thank you, Tatl,” Link rolled his eyes, remembering that she kept tally of how many times she saved his behind. Of course, she did it to be playful, to lift his spirits, but to him, now didn’t feel like a good time to crack a joke. When the sleigh bells in his head ceased, he took in his surroundings.
Bones littered the area, and droplets of spring water splattered to the floor in rhythm. The cave was so humid that Link’s tunic grew damp from just resting along the wall. A fat, moist pellet hit his head as soon as he stood up, wetting his scalp and causing him to shudder. He supposed the cavern must lie beneath a lake. It wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine this is where the river came from, though why it dried up was another question.
Then, a glistening rug caught Link’s eye. Smack dab in the middle of the grotto was a pool, surrounded by the skulls and ribs of Stalfos.
The pool itself looked close to overflowing, right on the brink. Strangely, while stalactites dotted the ceiling, there was a big one above the water that’d been cut away so that not a drop fell from its flattened bottom. Link wondered what could’ve done that, and if it was done on purpose.
Suddenly, an unseen someone took a breath. “Tell me,” they began, their words bouncing endlessly off the walls, “What business have you in Ikana Kingdom, land where only the dead roam?”
Link swung around, drawing his sword again.
“Hah, do not threaten me with that useless implement,” the being erupted with bitter giggles, revealing themselves. With narrow, green eyes, they stared hard, piercing the window to Link’s soul, “This is no place for one as full of life as you.”
Link scowled, brandishing his blade to defend from whatever the specter had to throw at him. In one hand was a lantern, and in the other was a baton, which they bounced back and forth. Hardly seemed like dangerous equipment.
“Young fool, do you wish to join the dead?” the Poe asked sneeringly, thinking Link was set on throwing his life away, “That is fine…” Waving the baton with purpose now, he began conducting, “If that is to be your destiny, then please, sleep gently to the melody of darkness that the great composer, Sharp, shall play!”
From nowhere, music started to resonate. Link fell to his knees, Gilded Sword clattering to the ground, overcome by a pain that wasn’t entirely physical. Tatl, similarly, was afflicted. She lost all feeling in her wings, dropping to the floor in a tiny, glowing heap.
“Now join us. Join us. Join the ranks of the dead,” Sharp whispered, the hairs of his moustache spinning upwards into a devilish heart.
Link groaned, his skin crawling like he had been invaded by a legion of ticks. He felt his whole body ache, the beat of his blood stopping then starting sporadically.
Tatl, meanwhile, was fairing much worse. Her light began to dim, her wings started to wither, and the tips of her hair turned silver. “L-Link…” she wheezed, the minacious tune having an enhanced effect on her due to her smaller size, “Play the song! Song of Healing… h-hurry-!”
Sharp raised an eyebrow as he watched the boy in green reach into the bag on his belt to retrieve an instrument. A blue, porcelain ocarina. He tilted his head curiously, fighting the urge to chuckle.
Slowly and weakly, Link played the Song of Healing. Six warbly notes whistled from the Ocarina of Time, surrounding the duo before moving on towards the Poe.
“GAH!” Sharp recoiled, falling back, his gaze turning to the ceiling. Resurrected by the somber serenade, Link and Tatl made some distance between themselves and the great maestro of death.
“Ha!” Tatl wore a victorious grin as she took to the air again, her light brightening, “That should do it! We got him!”
“S-Somehow…” Sharp mused aloud, “My heart feels… eased. This melody has a serenity to it…” He then resumed conducting, conquering the power of the song with hardly any effort. Beneath his curled moustache sat a smile. “And yet, to one of the dead and darkness, like myself, that pitiful tune no longer holds meaning for me!”
The melody of darkness marched on.
“You shall end your futile resistance and quickly join the ranks of the dead!”
“Quick! We gotta get out of here!” Tatl bonked Link upside the head, snatching his bangs and trying to tug him away.
Link stumbled backwards, grabbing his sword and turning swiftly on his heels to flee.
“UURRREEEEYYYY!!!” Sharp roared, pursuing the duo. He made it only to the mouth of the cave before he was stopped by some invisible force, but his melody continued for a dozen more yards before they finally escaped earshot, rounding the corner into a desolate hut.
Link and Tatl heaved, hearts going a mile a minute. They had no clue how to process what just happened. How did the Song of Healing fail? It never failed before! It saved Link from his Deku curse, calmed Darmani’s restless soul, and gave Mikau one last chance to perform. Why did it not work on Sharp?
“Great… just great,” Tatl grumbled, resting on Link’s shoulder, “Now what do we do?”
Link couldn’t stay silent. His friend needed some sort of answer, and despite not knowing what to say, he wanted to give her (and himself) hope. “We’ll figure something out,” he muttered, “Don’t worry.”
“Figure something out, you will,” a soft, succulent tone came from behind.
Whipping themselves around to challenge whoever dared try to ambush them, Link and Tatl discovered they had an audience of five. One of them sported a familiar face. Well, saying they had a ‘face’ was generous. It was the spectral watchman who sat atop the cliff at the cheek of the canyon, waiting for someone to obtain the mask of wandering spirits.
Behind the watchman floated four Poes, locked within a cage. The Hero of Time could've sworn he had recognized them from somewhere, but hadn’t the drive to dwell on it.
“Who are you?!” Tatl barked.
“Eee-hee-hee…” the watchman chuckled, “Ikana Kingdom was founded on this land, stained with a history of darkness, drenched in blood…” he trailed off, examining Link’s face. He knew this boy had many, many questions, which he was prepared to answer. Opening his mouth, he ran his tongue along his dry, chapped lips, “Even now it is a place were troubled, regretful spirits gather.”
“Uh… are you going to answer me or what?” Tatl’s patience, what little she had, was wearing thin. Link would be a liar if he said he didn’t want to know who this mysterious fellow was, too, but he had a hunch that the watchman wouldn’t come right out with that.
“Who… are those four?” Link asked, looking at the cage. The ghostly quartet laughed in unison, the resounding peal just as haunting as Sharp’s sonata.
The watchman turned slightly, his lone eye roaming over the bars of the Poe pen. “Sisters plagued by lingering regrets,” he explained, before he straightened his body again, “They can help you understand…”
“Understand what?” Tatl leered, displeased by the vagueness.
“Your plight,” the watchmen tapped his staff on the floor, the Poes returning to their places after drifting out of line, “You are overwhelmed by much confusion, aren’t you? Please, do battle with them. Bestow one final challenge that was denied to them in life. If you have faith in your skills and might… then try saving these restless spirits.”
“For how much?” Tatl could tell there was some price attached. There always was. Always someone looking to make some money.
The watchman was no different. “Yee-hee-hee…” he snickered, admiring the acuteness, “You are a smart one, Tatl. The earthly price you must pay is thirty rupees!”
Goosebumps formed along the fairy’s arms. Link hadn’t uttered her name when she and him arrived, so it was a mystery to how the watchman knew of it. Shaking her head, she cast her shivers aside, “Thirty rupees to save their souls? That’s kind of messed up.”
“Eee-hee-hee… think of it what you will, but in this decayed land, a soul is only worth its weight in money,” the watchman began to laugh uproariously.
Link refused to stand for such horrid talk. Stepping forward, he once again held the Ocarina of Time. While he was nervous that the Song of Healing had lost its power, he was determined to prove the watchman wrong.
This time, he played the song perfectly, not a single note off-key. Feelings of warmth and passion poured from him onto the collector and his wares. The watchman’s staff fell to the floor with a ‘clunk’, his grip failing him as he sighed contently.
“A good effort, however,” the hut rumbled, and the watchman’s staff sprang back up on its own, returning to its owner’s hand, “You cannot heal all souls with that song. The earthly cost to you will still be thirty rupees! I'd like to be able to take that much… but I shall take only ten.”
Link backed away, looking at his ocarina. The shiny stone it was crafted from showed himself in the reflection. He wondered if it was something about him that caused the song to fail.
“Why?” he asked plainly.
The watchman just leaned to the side.
“Why isn’t it working?” Link clarified, “I want to heal them, but it just…”
“My boy,” the watchman left his stool, standing tall. He towered over Link, yet did not look down on him, “Not all souls can he healed the same way. In time, neat tricks grow stale…”
“But it’s not a trick! It mends them, I know it does,” Link said, “Why won’t it work now?”
“Sometimes a spirit has nothing to mend…” the watchman eyed the floor for a while, “You cannot force a wounded man to recover on your terms, nor can you assist one who does not wish for assistance. I think you, having lived a life and a half already, are capable of understanding…”
The Poes ran their shadowy mitts across the bars to their enclosure, each staring numbly at the hero in green, wondering only if he’d be the one to save them from the purgatory they called Ikana. So badly did they crave freedom, yet the watchman denied them. It was for their own safety, however, as spirits without a home became easily lost.
“They want what they want… and you,” the watchman regressed into his seat again, “You cannot change that.”
“Well then what can we change?” Tatl butted in, unwilling to let Link be worn down by this weirdo in a robe, “We can’t just let those Gibdo stalk that house forever. The girl in there needs help.”
Link’s mouth hung open a sliver, shocked to hear that Tatl cared so much about his mission.
“Yee-hee-hee… You can help these struggling spirits. I only ask for ten rupees,” the watchman lent out a hand, groping the air, “Work to save them… on their terms.”
Link considered it for a moment, and soon began rummaging around in his wallet.
“Oh no,” Tatl darted in front of her friend’s face, “You seriously aren’t thinking about giving this dope money, right? We’ll figure something else out, like you said!”
“Tatl…” Link wanted to tell her that he had no choice, but a part of him still couldn’t wrap his head around what he needed to do. His instincts told him that it was right, though, which he felt was good. He handed the watchman two blue rupees, a silent act of defiance in Tatl’s eyes.
“Ugh, you’re impossible…” groaned the fairy, rubbing her forehead.
The spectral watchman led Link and Tatl deeper into the hut, to an arena where they would do battle with the Poes. From the walls, the four floated in, holding torches that burned with vibrant, colored fire that matched their wispy, dark bodies. Scents of freedom teased their nostrils, and they prepared to fight like they had in life.
“If you have faith in his skills and might,” the watchman said to Tatl, “Then he shall succeed. Don’t you have faith?”
“I-” Tatl didn’t anticipate such a question. Of course she had faith in Link. Glancing at him right as he pulled his sword and readied his shield, she remembered all he’d been through. Donning a smirk, she replied, “I do.”
“Good, then my friends, mercy is the least I can offer for the forthcoming duel,” the watchman bowed, “Defeat the ladies, and rest their souls in peace…”
With his companion by his side as always, Link stared down the first Poe, the green one. She spun her torch around, spreading fire throughout the room. Striking one final pose, she beckoned the hero to fight. He answered her call, and would give her and her sisters the fight they so desired.
The End.