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It was something only she could do.
Healing the Master Sword would take thousands, even millions of years in a bath of sacred power. That was how the Deku Tree had framed it. Dragons were the only things to live that long. “Immortal,” Mineru had said.
With the other sacred stones in their respective temples, her stone was the only one left to use. Zelda and Mineru prayed merely holding the Master Sword after swallowing the stone would be enough.
As Zelda walked to the pedestal where the Master Sword lay, she wondered if Mineru would have let her do it if she’d known Zelda held the Triforce. That her “sacred power” was the Golden Power of the land.
Zelda had her suspicions when she had joined Sonia to help Rauru drive away Ganondorf’s Moldugas. They were solidified in the fight with Ganondorf, but then, so too was her theory about what she had to do. Trying to destroy Ganondorf with the Triforce would alter time in unpredictable ways. Would her Hyrule disappear forever? Would her Link?
Zelda hesitated at the pedestal, looking over the decayed sword. What would happen to her in the future? Could she help Link destroy the Calamity if she was aimlessly floating in the sky? Her best understanding told her it wouldn’t work that way ... but she didn’t know. Mineru hadn’t known. The Master Sword couldn’t say. Hylia, despite the renewed connection, had nothing to say at all.
So she held to the course that had formed in her head. Heal the Master Sword through draconification. Live long enough for it to reach Link in their shared future. Trust he would find her and the sword, and save Hyrule once more. It was the Hero’s lot.
Zelda told the Master Sword of her plans. It seemed prudent.
“Link,” she said. “I will restore the Master Sword for you. ... I will care for it until the time comes. I will pour my sacred power into it. It will be the weapon that defeats the Demon King.”
Yet, Zelda didn’t want to let the Goddess off that easily. She offered a silent prayer to Hylia as she tore off her secret stone into her palms.
Please help me save our people. Please do not let me falter.
Please watch over Link.
She raised the stone to her open mouth and tipped it down her throat.
The burst of golden power threatened to erupt from her body. Pulses of holy energy thundered from her rib cage. She struggled to stand as each surge of divinity was a magnitude greater than the last. She reached for the sword, held it fast to her body. Could the sword still hear?
“Link!” she cried, eyes fastened to the darkening sky above. “Protect them all!”
Time, for the briefest moment, stopped.
***
Zelda blinked. The sky was blue again. Fluffy white clouds rode a gentle wind. Was she home again? In the wild? She looked down at the ground and saw only a faint, shimming whiteness. When she looked up, there was another Hylian woman a few paces away. No, several. Some with royal crests on their dresses. A couple with thin swords. Blond. Brunette. All staring at her.
She backed up, raising a hand. Zelda saw it immediately -- golden cracks on her skin. Cracks slowly headed upward. They were on her other arm too. She touched her face, felt the small breaks along her cheek. Down her neck. Her pleas to Hylia must have fallen on deaf ears.
The other women stared at her a moment more before they parted to let another, shorter woman through. Zelda gasped -- it was her, when she had defeated Calamity Ganon. How? Clad in white dress, Calamity Zelda tipped her head to her.
“We are here to bury a goddess,” she said, voice echoing across the shimmering plane.
Zelda tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t move. The sound of her own flesh cracking like porcelain rang in her ears.
“There is no peace for us,” Calamity Zelda mournfully offered. “Demon, Goddess, Hero. Forever. This act of yours will not change that.”
Zelda tried to blink, but something was in her right eye. She reached and felt flowers. Flowers she knew, like silent princess and a sundelion, but also swift violets and blue nightshade. Coming out of her eye. Her other eye just felt strange. She could still see her others, somehow knowing they were her. Versions from legend, when she was of the sky, of twilight, wind and war. Of the past.
All somber, as one should be at a sad funeral.
“You might be dead to the world,” Calamity Zelda said. “But he will never forget you. As you sleep, remember that.”
Zelda understood. She couldn’t talk, with her mouth falling apart. Sundelions and silent princesses sprung from it before falling away too, into a dragon’s snout.
“May the Goddess be reborn someday,” Calamity Zelda intoned. “May Hylia guide your path among the clouds.”
Zelda tried to thank her for the blessing with a nod. She couldn’t see anymore, but she felt the sky growing dark and the light below swallowing her. Her forehead felt just a little heavier --
***
The sages watched as the Light Dragon streaked upward, higher, higher, until it was out of sight and only the echo of its roar could be heard. They collectively breathed for the first time in what felt like hours. Each had seen the sword riding the dragon’s forehead. Maybe the plan had worked. Maybe it all would work out.
But each also had a queasy feeling that they had just watched someone die for destiny.