Poe Stories: The Haunting of Arbiter’s Grounds

Impa looked sternly from under her furrowed brow at the figure approaching. Tall and lean, she carried a flaming torch that bathed the narrow corridor in welcome light; the sconces that lined the sandy, stone walls did more to cast shadows than actually light the way. 

“I’ve been waiting,” Impa stated, matter-of-factly, standing straight from her leaning position. Her silver hair was tied in a neat bun and the sacred eye, the symbol of the Sheikah, was painted across her forehead in bright red.

“The handover of this place takes time,” the woman responded, coming to a halt at Impa’s side, “and my people wished to bathe in the glory of the Sand Goddess one last time.” Her flaming red hair was cut short to frame her face, and her skin was the warm copper that only the Gerudo could boast. Jewels of sapphire and emerald glinted at her ears and on her fingers. She was both beautiful and formidable, and clearly of high rank among her clan. 

Impa nodded, unfazed by the Gerudo woman’s commanding presence. “Well, now we are here.”

“Yes, now you are here.” The Gerudo Chief sighed, resignedly. “And soon, my clan will be gone.”

“You really mean to leave Hyrule?” Impa queried, her tone even. She fell in step with the Gerudo Chief, who led the way deeper into the shadowy walkways.

“The desert yields nothing for my warriors. We must seek our fortune elsewhere. And to you, we bequeath this temple.” 

Impa noticed the slight in her companion’s voice. “A gift well-paid-for,” she responded.

The Gerudo woman nodded in an almost indiscernible way, and Impa extended an olive branch. 

“This place will be cared for and the histories etched in its stone will not be erased by us.”

The Gerudo Chief cast a sideways glance at Impa as they turned a corner. “Those etchings are not of the Gerudo. They existed long before we came to this part of the desert. So, do what you will with the histories here, where the Sheikah will pass their judgement.

“Hyrule passes judgement, Chief Nooru.”

“The practices of the Sheikah are not lost on the Gerudo, Commander Impa.”

Impa allowed the comment to slide, and Nooru pressed on.

“The secret tunnels beneath Kakariko are heavy with the stench of blood, Commander. The shackles are well-oiled, but the metal is stained forever.

Impa blinked. The Gerudo Chief knew too much. She’d have to investigate potential leaks upon her return to headquarters.

“Ah, we are here.” Nooru came to a halt. “In this room lies something even our occult leaders did not understand.” Nooru pulled a key from her satchel and held it up in front of Impa. “This temple and her demons are yours.”

Impa accepted the key and Nooru stood aside as she unlocked the door. It scraped open. Impa now led the way and used her own torch to light a nearby wall sconce.

The room was cold, much colder than the corridors they’d just traversed. Even as Nooru walked the circular perimeter, lighting the remaining sconces, the chill did not leave the air. Impa’s eyes adjusted as flickering light filled the space, and her attention was drawn to the centre of the chamber. 

She could see a blade — huge, black and ominous. There were words etched across it in a script unknown to her, although she had studied many languages in her youth. Twisted around the hilt were ropes that stretched in all directions across the floor. Those ropes were decorated with talismans that fluttered strangely in a non-existent breeze. Impa stepped forward for a closer look.

“Halt!” Nooru commanded.

Impa stopped, turning sharply to the Gerudo Chief. The implicit warning in Nooru’s instruction was the only thing that could make her accept such an order. Only the Royal Family of Hyrule commanded her.

“This chamber houses a demon,” Nooru said, looking from Impa to the blade. “The only thing that stands between us and our peril is the spell that binds it within that sword.”

“You expect me to believe –” Impa’s words were cut short as a shiver went up her spine. She drew her knife and spun around, expecting to face some foe. But there was nothing.

“You will come to believe,” Nooru responded, simply. “We are not alone.”

A piercing scream reverberated around the room. Impa held ready her knife, searching for the intruder as the scream echoed. As sound abruptly became silence, she felt something cold graze the back of her neck and her hairs stood on end. Malignant whispers filled her ears and her vision became clouded. “No! Stop!!” she begged frantically, covering her ears and falling hard to her knees.

“You must banish the voice, Commander!” Nooru shouted. She had not expected the Sheikah woman to be so vulnerable to the spirit. She, herself, had forced the being to quiet when she had become Chief and first learned the secrets of this temple.

Impa fell to the floor and began screaming. She clawed at her eyes and clutched at her stomach, jerking to-and-fro. “PLEASE!” she cried between shrieks, as her mind flooded with memories that didn’t belong to her.

---

She stood, stretched, her arms shackled above her head. Her toes grazed the stone floor, barely supporting her weight. The skin on her wrists burnt and bled against the metal that dug into her flesh. A hooded Sheikah stood in front of her, demanding her secrets, determined to learn the whereabouts of the mysterious artefact she had stolen. She refused to tell, was blinded…

---

Now, she was alone in a cramped cell, and had been alone for as long as she could remember. She knew only darkness and a voice that demanded knowledge. She hated and loved that voice all at once; it was a never-ending source of pain, and yet her only comfort in this lonely existence. 

Hunger wracked her starving body, and her bones jutted painfully against the floor. She pleaded for mercy. She begged the voice that taunted her for death, swearing her innocence. She had nothing to do with the rebellion and she didn’t know who led it. She was forced to live, forced to remain in the dark forever…

---

This time, she was bound to a table, her legs and arms outstretched. There was pain in her abdomen. Another hooded Sheikah stood over her, sharp tool in hand. “Tell us what you know, and you can go home.”

She whimpered, struggling against her bonds, denying her captor an answer. The creaking of the door drew the surgeon’s attention, and they both turned their heads to see a second hooded figure approach. The surgeon deferred to the newcomer and handed them the bloody tool.

“Where is the Demon King?”

“I-I don’t know!”

The figure pulled their hood back and Impa shrieked at the sight of her own face. 

“I’ll ask once more,” she warned. “Where is the Demon King?”

“I’ll never tell!” she screamed maniacally, shocking herself.

Impa recognised the steely resolve in the expression of the face above her, then the tool split her flesh anew…

---

Nooru wrapped her fingers around Impa’s wrists, using her Gerudo strength to force her upright and onto her knees. “Commander, you are here, in the real world,” she shouted. “These visions are false! Look at me! Look at me!!”

Through her torment, Impa heard Nooru’s voice. It was a faint but welcome lifeline, reminding her of who and where she was. The visions and whispers in her mind began to speed up as the malevolent spirit tried to claim her sanity. Blood splashed, torture ensued, mind games broke her, death became her; all of those experiences washed over her, again and again.

Finally, with her own force of will, Impa’s eyes snapped open and she saw the Gerudo Chief holding her. She gulped at the air like a drowning woman, and her mind cleared. The only sounds now were those of her labored breathing. She sunk against Nooru, her sweat becoming cold and clammy.

Nooru held Impa, allowing her respite. “The demon is cunning but you have bested it. This was only some of its power, however. Do not disturb the spell that imprisons this thing.”

Impa forced herself to her feet, trying and failing to regain the composure she commanded just moments — or a lifetime — ago. “This demon, it twisted my memories. It made me the criminal!”

Nooru almost felt sympathy for the Sheikah woman. Almost. “The spirit merely uses its victim’s own history against them. If you are less righteous –”

“Everything I do, I do for Hyrule!” Impa snarled. “The realm demands protection! Who are the Sheikah to deny it?”

The two women stared at each other, battling each other’s gaze. Nooru was the first to break the silence. “This tour is at an end, and we Gerudo venture no further than this chamber. What dwells beyond here is beyond our measure. The temple is yours, Commander. Arbitrate as Hyrule sees fit. 

Impa’s eyes flashed as Nooru exited the chamber. She looked quickly at that black sword, bound with its fluttering talismans, and felt a familiar shiver run up her spine. Abruptly, she spun around and with undisguised relief, left the room and its demon behind.

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Do you enjoy a good ghost story around this time of the year? Have you got any Poe stories of your own? Let us know in the comments below!