Wounded

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Chapter 40Wounded

"Sheik?"

Link released the Master Sword, steadying himself to avoid stumbling as he cradled Sheik in his arms. Her face tensed with pain as she glanced down at the blade lodged in her side. Crimson seeped between her fingers, staining the sand beneath.

Link stood there in shock, his mind still racing amidst the confusion. So much remained a bewildering blur. Too many events had unfolded. He had taken the life of a Gerudo, a necessary act or not, and the weight of that deed sickened him. What else had transpired? The Gerudo had betrayed their allies and their king, slaying Ganondorf. Link almost laughed with near hysteria.

Was it truly over?

Link had witnessed Ganondorf's body vanish before his eyes, but even if the king was gone, what about the malevolent force possessing him? Could a fallen deity succumb to a mere blade?

It seemed almost too simple and too good to be true.

No. Despite his efforts, Link couldn't dismiss the nagging feeling that Ganondorf had somehow endured.

Too much was unfolding. Link blinked as the desert wind whipped up a cloud of sand, stinging his face.

Focus, he urged himself sternly. Fallen bulblins, casualties of the portal's passage, lay strewn in the sand. Courage attempted to communicate, but Link, overwhelmed by the surrounding chaos, remained deaf to the spirit's words.

Sheik was injured... How had she sustained such a wound? Blood tainted her tabard, saturating it in a deep crimson.

Too much, Link thought, a sinking feeling of dismay enveloping him.

He didn't know what to do. He was no healer. Saria was, but she was too distant to assist.

"S-Sheik?" he whispered once more. "Sheik, what should I do?"

The wind responded, howling through the night. Somewhere behind them, the echoes of battle resonated through the air. Across the broad river, the fortress glimmered in the pale moonlight. Flames danced above the walls, casting shadows into the ashen sky. Griffins, once assailants, were gone, and burning barges floated down the river. The Mithirans seemed defeated, retreating downstream and fading from Link's view.

"We did it," Navi breathed, gazing across the river, oblivious to Link's turmoil. "I can't believe we escaped... Link?"

Navi turned, gasping as the colour drained from Sheik's face, teeth clenched when Link set her down.

"Link," Sheik whispered, her voice weak with pain. "We escaped. I told you we would."

She smiled faintly, her fierce Sheikan demeanour momentarily lost.

"I never doubted you for a moment," Link replied.

"You're a terrible liar," she weakly retorted.

"Oh dear."

Link looked up to find Halvard standing nearby, his usual unsettling grin absent. "This is not good, not good at all."

He hurried to Sheik's side, kneeling beside her, examining the knife. Worry etched his face as he studied the blade.

"Sheik?" Link asked uncertainly. They needed to extract the knife without causing further harm, but how?

"A bulblin's knife?" Sheik murmured, recognizing the runes on the blade's hilt. "I was stabbed by a bulblin... A Sheikah has never fallen to one of those before. A fortunate strike."

"I think your concern should extend beyond pride, Sheik," Navi remarked.

Sheik managed a rueful smile. "Thank you, Navi. That truly lifts my spirits."

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