...before falling back on his butt as a blast of magic emerged from the iron container. Shadows whirred through the air, a crackling noise emitting from the dark mass as it twisted through the air. As Link covered his eyes to protect them from getting hit by the particles falling off from the cloud, he could just make out the faintest hint of lines running through the smog, like a graphics card pushing to load tiny details but lagging out instead.
As the magic stretched and clawed over the room, its tail end lifted the chest and waved it around in the air. After a few hard shakes, the shadow managed to dislodge the chest from itself, leaving the huge bulk of shadow suspended in the air. It pulsed with dark energy, waves of magic peeling off it like shadows to reveal the shape below while the dispelled layers barring the entrances to the room in a knotted mess of a tar-like substance.
Link managed to get out of the way of the chest as it careened through the air, a step ahead of it as the massive heap of metal when sailing by behind him. When he turned around to see where it landed, he watched something fall out. The object bounced twice on its ends before falling to the ground with a slight rattle.
With the form inside the shadow becoming more and more apparent, Link glanced one more look at the monster before rushing for the last contents of the chest. His right hand wrapped around the middle of it, his left gripping at the string attaching the ends.
You got the Hero's Bow! This longbow has served Heroes throughout the ages. Its aim is true and its arrows guided by the heavens. Only a true Hero may bear this weapon.
The chime of noise went through one ear and out the other as Link stared down the monster. String at full draw, an arrow materialized against the string. A quiver thumped against Link's back. Link closed his right eye, narrowing on the now fully formed figure hovering above him.
Face cast in shadows by a wide brimmed, lime green wizard hat was a figure wearing robes the same shade as his hat. The robes were lumpy and indistinct, leaving Link to only guess at what kind of figure was beneath the robe. A wand managed to escape the large sleeves dangling over the creature's hands, a small trail of sparks dripping down from the tip of it. As it finished materializing, Link let go of the bowstring.
Bobbing its arms up and down, the monster spun around before vanishing into thin air, a few sparks lingering where it had once been. Link's arrow passed through the air where the monster had once been before clattering to the ground on the other side of the room. Link yanked another arrow out of the quiver, notching it as he waited for the monster to reappear. He had given up trying to figure out why picking up these weapons had felt so natural to him. He wasn't sure he would like the answer he found if he kept asking.
With a eerie cackle, the floating wizard reappeared, twirling its wand around before a long vine erupted from the tip. The vine snapped around the wizzrobe's head like a whip, before cracking and coming crashing down towards Link.
Pulling the arrow free of the string, Link threw himself sideways into a roll. As he landed back on his feet, he aim the arrow once more, sending it flying before he really had time to aim. The arrow scraped down the vine, piercing through the wizzrobe's hat and hanging there as the wizzrobe turned to face Link again, drawing back its wand to once again snap its vine whip.
Link however was ready for a second shot before the monster had the chance to launch another attack. This time the arrow collided with the wizzrobe's chest, sinking into its robes until it disappeared. Wherever it disappeared to didn't matter, what did matter was that the monster lost its balance and collapsed to the ground with a loud screech and a heavy thud. Its robes billowed around it as the vine withered and died off from the wand, the wizzrobe taking labored breaths as it struggled to clutch at its one weapon.
Without waiting for the wizzrobe to regain its composure, Link drew his sword again, his bow catching on a new hook on his sword belts. He jumped, his sword out and arching down until it collided with the crumpled monster on the ground, quickly followed by a flurry of sword strikes. No matter how hard Link's sword hit, the monster didn't bleed and cut. It winced in pain, but there was no wound. Link was grateful at least that he would be spared the gore. One small blessing about these conjured monsters and their magical origins.
The wizzrobe shook its head as it pushed up off the ground. Link took the motion as his time to back away. Not a moment later the wizzrobe's wand erupted with a massive green push of magic, a ring of hard, grassy spears shooting out in all directions around the monster, Link inches away from the spears cutting him. It shouted again before vanishing into thin air.
In the seconds he had before the fight resumed, Link took the moment to take a deep breath. The fact that he had responded to the appearance of this monster by so quickly just jumping into action was concerning to him. Not that he had the time to have a deep analysis of himself, but he hadn't ever thought of himself as a violent person. The fact that he had so willingingly jumped into this fight, into all of these fights, was scaring him the longer he was in here. He could probably justify it as he was fighting for his life, yet Link didn't see that as being enough.
The wizzrobe appeared again, once more lashing out with its vine whip as it reconjured the plant. Link dodged the attacks, hopping left or right casually as he memorized the attack patterns of the wizzrobe. He kept his bow drawen, waiting patiently for a shot to line up.
When it did, he took it.
Once more, the monster collapsed from the arrow, crumpling back down onto the ground as the arrow vanished into the bulk of its robes. Link was launching himself through the air towards the monster before it had even hit the ground, though his attack landed perfectly.
After a few more seconds of his sword raking overing the wizzrobe's back, the monster began to rise up. Link took his cue to step back, narrowly dodging the ring of vine spears once more. The wizzrobe staggered as it stood up before floating limply into the air and vanishing once more, clearly injured from the repeated beatings. Link drew his bow again, his fingers running over the feathered end on the arrow as he curled his fingers around the drawstring and brought it back.
He wasn't even breathing heavily. When he had first learned to ride, he had been saddle sore for days. Even years later, that were days he would go home from helping clean stalls feeling stiff and sore. Yet this, medieval combat, came naturally. And the longer Link held these weapons in his hands, the more it felt wrong that it should be so easy for him to master them.
When the wizzrobe reappeared, he hardly waited to loose another arrow. It missed by a wide margin, clattering off in the distance. The wizzrobe, vine whip summoned again, took no time to knock Link off his feet, sending him tumbling across the floor until he collided with one of the bunks. The wood scraped against his forehead, a shallow wound open on his temple, followed by a slow trickle of blood over his eyebrow.
As Link pushed himself up with one hand, his other reached for his brow. He was fighting for his life. He could die down here, and no one would be the wiser. Well, they might put two and two together, but no one would be able to find him. Not with all the monsters. The Restoration certainly didn't seem to care one way or the other what happened to Link. They had plans for whether Link survived or not. What would happen if he died? To his family? To Dwarf?
Whatever the Restoration wanted, Link realized one thing. If he died, no one could save Dwarf. No one else had been here when it happened, when the Restoration had taken control of Dwarf's mind. No one else could defend the Gerudo for what happened to him.
Rolling out of the way, Link found his footing again. He wasn't just fighting for himself right now. He was fighting people. Sure, it was his life on the line, but he wasn't going to let his parents suffer because he had run off into a temple on his own. He wasn't going to let the Restoration keep doing what it was doing to Dwarf. He had told his mom that he thought he could do something about this.
So he would.
Drawing back his bow, Link aimed an arrow at the wizzrobe again. He waited for the swings of the monster's whip, one, two, third snap and here it came. Side step, wait for the second attack. Another side step. Third snap, pause. Link let the bowstring twang, his hand switching to his blade before the arrow even hit. He knew he didn't need to wait. Not when combat was coming as naturally to him as it was. If he had to embrace that to do something good, he would.
As Link's sword collided with the wizzrobe once more, the monster shriveled under his blade. When the blackness and the glitchy lines began to wrap around the monster's body, Link took a step back. He watched the ick that had coated the exits merge back into the mass of the wizzrobe, before the entire mess turned a pale gold and vanished into the air.
Lowering his blade, Link looked around the room. Was that it? Now that it was over, the fight had felt easy. Then again, having mastered not only swordsmanship over the past few hours, but also archery on a real longbow in a few minutes was bound to give anyone a confidence boost, not matter how unrealistic that odds of something like that ever happening was. Still, the fight had felt simple. Like a test. Clearly lethal if Link hadn't taken it seriously, but he had only gotten hurt because he had gotten reckless in the middle of the fight.
It was now that the heavy wave of sleep began to really push down on Link. He felt his eyes growing weary, his limbs now sore as the fight passed and his adrenaline died down. How long had he even been down here? When Link checked the time on his phone, he found that it had been hours. Morning was creeping closer and closer to the outside world, but in here, time was almost stagnant. No view of the outside world or clocks would do that to one's sense of time. Even reading the time on his phone didn't feel real.
And even still, the Restoration was quiet. Link appreciated the silence of the magic computer, or whatever it was, but at the same time, he would have loved to know if he could sleep or not in peace here now that he had beaten that thing. Then he felt his brow burning and he touched his hand to the cut he had gotten from being thrown. It was still bleeding, a pool collecting on his eyebrow, dripping down as he shifted his eye to wince.
Link pressed his fingers to the cut, holding down on it as he looked around for a clean cloth. But in this dusty room, he found nothing that might help him. He looked down at his undershirt, debating for a moment ripping off a piece to serve as a bandage. He decided against it, instead bringing up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and sitting down on one of the bunks for a minute until the bleeding stopped. He felt everything ache as he dropped down onto the moth eaten mattress.
"Just a breather," Link muttered to himself as he set his head back on the support of the bunks. He closed his eyes for a moment, jacket sleeve still pressed to the cut. He could feel himself drifting off as soon as his eyes closed. Reluctantly, Link forced his eyes back open. Like he was taking any chances in this dungeon. What was stopping the Restoration was bringing that big monster back again? They had already summoned monsters before on Link when they decided it necessary.
No, Link wasn't going to risk it. He had gotten this far. He could make it the rest of the way. Solve all the puzzles, beat that plant monster, get out of here. All of those things needed to be taken care of before he could even thinking about sleeping again. Not that he thought there was a chance of sleep even after all that if the temple was all over the local news like his mother had suggested. But he could hope.
Link pulled back the sleeve, touching the cut once more. The bleeding at stopped, but the wound hadn't begun to clot. It would be fine, but he needed to try to keep from fighting until the wound had a little more time to start closing. He doubted he would get the chance though in this place.
Wiping off whatever blood he could, Link tied his sweatshirt back around his waist. He adjusted the weapons strung over his back, making sure that his new bow was securely in place. Link scanned the room, picking up any whole arrows he could find. He had a feeling there probably wouldn't be a large supply for arrows, even down here in this time capsule of a building.
Rubbing a thumb to his eyes, Link tried to knocked some of his sleep away. It didn't do much, but he found some comfort in trying. He had pulled all nighters before, though none of which his life had been on the line or he had been fighting the whole way through. Halfway there. He tried to convince himself that he was halfway there. He could make it the rest of the way.
He had to.
Link walked back over to the trap door. He could probably drop that rope ladder now that he had this bow to hit the ties. The door swung back with a thud, bouncing once before settling. Link swung his legs over to the ladder extending down...