1 - "Action and Reaction"

Smoke. The smell he awoke to was smoke. A spike of urgency shot through him and he jolted up from his bed.

What, was there a fire? But why didn't the smoke detectors go off? Was he dreaming? No, no, no, he was wide awake—he was sure of it. Not liking the possibilities, he reached for the door and gripped the handle, only to recoil in pain.

"Dammit," he muttered. The doorknob was red-hot. A fire, then. A wave of panic rushed over him, and he kicked the door.

One. Nothing.

Two. Still nothing.

Three. The door burst open and he had to shield his eyes from the light. He strained to keep his eyes open, and when he did he gaped at what he saw.

There was fire everywhere. The entire house—the place where he spent his childhood—was up in flames. He bit back the pangs of sorrow that stabbed at him and forced himself to concentrate. He was still in the house. The burning, smoke-filled house that could collapse at any moment.

A fit of coughs attacked him, and he covered his nose and mouth. He had to get out of there. Hurriedly, he cautiously made his way toward the one door that wasn't blocked off. He felt like he was going to melt from the heat of the hungry flames and was racked by another coughing fit, but was able to make it to the door. As soon as he got out, he was paralyzed by what he saw.

Fire, fire everywhere. Not just his house. The entire village—the entire village was ablaze. He choked back a scream. How could this happen? Everyone—where was everyone? Had they all gotten out in time? His eyes widened as terror gripped at his heart. His mom—where in the name of Din was his mom?!

It was at that moment that he heard a horrifying crash. He turned around to see the house that he had just been in had collapsed. The support beams of the house were jutting out in the most disgusting way. He struggled to breathe.

Suddenly, his entire body convulsed with another fit—partially caused by coughs, partially sobs—and he couldn't take it anymore. With a mix of the sweltering heat, the smoke, despair, fury, confusion, and agony, he ran.

When he was finally a far enough distance away, he slowed to a stop. He reluctantly found the courage to turn around and look back at the burning village. The entire town was lit up—like the light of a candle in the dark of the night. With a start, he realized there was a light coming from his pocket as well. Had he left his cell phone in his pajamas? Curious, he removed the contents of his pocket. He couldn't believe what he saw.

It wasn't his cell phone that was glowing.

It was the back of his hand.

"Brial."

"Here."

"Castian."

"Here."

"Closter."

"Here."

"Cromwell."

"…"

"…Cromwell?"

"…Huh? Oh—sorry, I'm present."

"…Ms. Cromwell, would you please remove your hood from your head?"

"Oh, right. Forgot I had it on…"

A thin, bandaged hand reached up and gently pulled back the dark blue hood from the girl's head. Her blonde braid was tucked into the back of her hood, and messy bangs bristled with the movement to reveal piercing crimson eyes.

"Thank you, Ms. Cromwell. Now, where was I? Ah, yes…"

Sheik Cromwell glanced at the clock on the wall with a look of disinterest. At first look, it was difficult to tell that she was a girl. There was one unfortunate incident in which one poor girl hadn't realized it and had tried to flirt with her, resulting in one very awkward conversation for Sheik. Of course, when the girl realized her mistake she apologized profusely, flushing with embarrassment.

Sheik wasn't known for being very sociable, and it was because of that that very little was known about her. She wasn't involved in any school sports or clubs, so her extracurricular activities and hobbies were a mystery. In truth, it was difficult to tell if she was interested in anything at all, as she gave no indication of enthusiasm for anything during the school day. Sheik looked every part the underachiever, and most would have considered her one if that theory wasn't contrasted by consistently high grades. Over all, Sheik Cromwell was an enigma that the rest of the student body had given up on figuring out.

Of course, Sheik knew exactly what she was. She was hardworking and driven by the things she enjoyed, and procrastinated on the things she didn't. She had an affinity to martial arts, and cared deeply for her mother. She had great interest in reading, but was always picky in choosing her books, and had a great appreciation for music. Around strangers, she could be cold and distant, and around friends she was laid-back and sarcastic. She was distrustful—perhaps a bit too much so—though at times she could also be impulsive and reckless.

Even though she wasn't very open, Sheik did have a personality. She had interests and preferences and hobbies. She just didn't share them with others.

And she was perfectly fine with that.

When Sheik stepped of the classroom, she was immediately greeted by a fiery red-haired girl dressed from head to toe in black.

"Hey, Sheik!"

Sheik smiled. "Hey, Midna. Hard to believe it's finally the weekend."

The smaller girl blew on a strand of hair. "Tch, I know! Feels like this week took forever." At that, Sheik sighed. She and Midna were…different, to say the least. Where Sheik was subtle, passive, and even-tempered, Midna was fiery, energetic, and assertive. They were complete opposites as far as personalities went. By all logic, the two should have gotten sick of each other a long time ago, but Sheik came to realize that the reason why they got along so well was because of the fact that they were so different. Their personalities complemented each other beautifully, and as a result, they rarely fought.

…And yet, in some ways, they were remarkably similar. While Midna could be hot-tempered and rash, she was also kind-hearted and warm, which Sheik admired about her.

Of course, if she ever said that to her face, Midna would probably slit her throat.

"You know, school only started a couple of weeks ago," Sheik said teasingly. "If you start getting tired of it now, its gonna be a pretty long year…"

Midna punched her arm. "Oh, shut it! School always sucks no matter what time of the year it is, and you know it."

Sheik grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Well—"

"—Oof!" Surprised, Sheik turned to see that she had run into someone.

"Oh, Din! My bad, sorry—"

"Why you—! You better be sorry!"

As the other person regained balance and looked up, Sheik frowned. "Oh, it's just you, Groose. Didn't see you there." Groose was a tall red-haired athlete with a reputation for having a bad temper. For Sheik, moments like these weren't very uncommon.

"You little—!" Groose grabbed the blonde girl by the collar. "You better apologize for that!"

Sheik reached up to the bigger boy's hand and raised an eyebrow. "I thought I just did." Groose's cronies laughed in response, and the boy turned red.

"D-Don't play smart with me! When I'm through with you, you're gonna be—"

"Ahem." All of the teens turned to see the imposing figure of Mr. Dragmire. Ganondorf Dragmire was a towering man with hair the color of fire and the eyes of a beast. His reputation for being incredibly strict and the fact that much of the school was terrified of him (including staff) earned him several nicknames, including "Demon King" and "The Dark Lord." Incidentally, he was also a History teacher.

"What is the meaning of this disturbance?" He asked, expression unchanging. The teenagers cringed. "As I recall, fighting on campus is strictly forbidden." When no one said anything, his eyes narrowed. "I suggest that you break it up, or you'll end up having me as your opponent instead. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes sir," was the collective response. Groose loosened is grip on Sheik, who rubbed her neck and stuffed her hands in her pockets.

"Good. Now leave. The bell has rung and the buses shall be departing soon." As the teacher left, Groose sent Sheik a meaningful glare, and walked away. Midna scoffed.

"That was so stupid!" she fumed, waving her arms as she spoke. "I don't get that guy's problem!"

Sheik shrugged nonchalantly. "I dunno."

Midna spun on her. "And you! Why didn't you pull one of your ninja moves on him? You could have taught him a lesson or two!"

"That would have been pointless, and Mr. Dragmire was there anyways. It doesn't matter anymore. It's over."

Midna scoffed. "How'd I know you would say that…"she muttered, rolling her eyes. After a few seconds of silence, she changed the subject. "Hey, you wanna come over this afternoon?"

Sheik smiled ruefully. "Sorry, I have to do something today. Maybe some other time?"

Midna frowned. "Ugh, fine, whatever." She sighed, before settling into a smile. "See ya later."

"Yeah, see ya."

"Bout time you got here," the voice muttered as Sheik walked through the door. The blonde smirked.

"It's not my fault you want to be so secretive. If I didn't have to worry about people seeing me, I would have gotten here a lot faster."

Groose sighed. "Yeah, whatever," he said, focusing on the object in his hands.

"You said it was almost ready?" Sheik said, holding up the small piece of paper he had given her when he had grabbed her collar. With that, the bigger teen grinned.

"Not almost. She's done." Sheik and Groose's partnership began last year when Sheik accidentally found Groose in one of the unused classrooms building something. When she discovered Groose's secret talent for inventing things, he had made her swear into secrecy, claiming that if word got out, it would ruin his reputation as a "jock." Sheik agreed on the condition that she would be able to commission him to make things for her, and since then they had been working on projects together. If Sheik had an idea, Groose could make it into a reality. Though he seemed to be displeased that someone found out his secret, Sheik suspected he was glad to have someone to share his hobby with without judging him.

"Here," Groose said, handing over the object. "A thin, durable bracer that can easily be concealed under clothes. It provides protection from knives, but is also flexible enough to provide for easy movement."

Sheik slipped it on, admiring how light it was. She gave a few test punches and smirked. "You said it provides protection from knives? To what extent?"

"I tested it with a few knives at home, and they can't cut through. I hadn't tried stabbing it though, so I would be careful."

Sheik frowned. She probably wouldn't be using it for that anyways. Really, she just wanted to be sure she had an extra edge in case she ever got into a knifefight unarmed. But still…

"That makes it worth a little less than what I originally proposed, then." She glanced up at him. "Speaking of which, how much are you asking for?"

"I know the original price was thirty-five rupees, but I'll give it to you for twenty." Sheik raised an eyebrow. She knew said it was worth less, but Groose would never lower the price this much unless…

"What's the catch?"

Groose smirked. "There's this essay that's due in a couple of weeks, and it's worth a lot of points…"

Sheik seemed to consider. "I can do it, but it'll only be worth a C."

"…How about an A minus?"

"C plus."

"B plus?"

"B minus."

"Deal," Groose said, shaking her hand. In her head, she knew that the bracer wasn't worth that much, but this deal would insure the benevolent nature of her relationship with Groose, and in doing so, she had insured that he was willing to work with her in the future—which was probably worth more than the rupees and paper combined.

"It was a pleasure working with you, Sheik."

Sheik smiled. "Oh, believe me, the pleasure was all mine."

When she got home, Sheik unceremoniously dropped her back onto the floor.

"You're back, Sheik," a woman's voice said. "How was your day?"

Sheik shrugged. "Hey, Imps. It was alright." A tall, silver haired woman stepped into the living room and smiled knowingly. Sheik thought it was a little strange how her mother insisted on being called by her first name—even by her own child—but she got used to it.

"Just 'alright'?"

Sheik snorted. "Yeah." She walked over to the living room and plopped on the couch. "What about you? Anything interesting?"

Impa waved her hand. "Not really. How's school going? Are your classes going well?" Sheik sighed.

"Yeah, they're all fine." Sheik's mother was…a strange woman. Well, maybe strange wasn't the word for it—more like—secretive. She insisted that Sheik call her by name, but refused to give her an explanation. Moreover, she never talked about Sheik's dad. Ever. Sheik had tried asking her about it before, but she always circumvented the question. Sheik wondered if maybe he left her or died or something, but even if he had, she was sure her mom would have told her something. No matter how heartbreaking either of those situations would have been, Impa wasn't the kind to let her own grief keep her from telling her child the truth. Sheik also theorized that she could have been adopted, but decided that was unlikely. Sheikah weren't very common, and the chances of them both being from the same dying race when they weren't related was just too small. And Sheik was fairly certain that she was Sheikah—no one else in Hyrule had the same crimson eyes, and it was impossible to change someone else's eye color without them realizing it. Unless, of course, there was some kind of magical spell involved, but no one in Hyrule believed in magic anymore. Such beliefs were actually quite common in the past, as well as belief in legends of heroes and demons and magical princesses, but such ideas had been long abandoned as Hyrule advanced.

"Hey, Sheik?" Sheik looked up as the sound of Impa's voice broke her out of her thoughts. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

Sheik sat up. "Sure, Impa. Shoot."

Impa handed her an envelope. "I need you to deliver this tonight," she said.

Sheik raised an eyebrow. "A letter?" she said. "Can't you mail it?"

Impa shook her head. "I need this to be delivered as soon as possible. Can you do that for me?"

Sheik frowned in confusion. This was certainly stranger than normal. "…Alright, I guess so," she said tentatively. "Just tell me where to go."

Even after she had delivered the letter, Sheik was puzzling over her mother's strange behavior. That was the first time Impa had asked her to do a task like that, and she had a feeling she wasn't going to get a reason why. Sheik sighed. What could be so important that it would have to be delivered tonight? And by her, no less? Why couldn't Impa have delivered it herself? She was far from old and senile. And it wasn't like her to make Sheik do something she could easily do herself.

Something wasn't adding up. And Sheik was going to find out what. If Impa wouldn't tell her, then she was just going to have to—

"Oof!"

"Oh, sorry!" Sheik said, internally cursing herself for running into someone the second time in a day. She knelt down to help the person she had just bumped into. "Are you okay?"

"…Er…yeah…" they said. Sheik noticed that it was a guy. He was wearing a black hoodie, but from the look of his face he couldn't have been too much older than she was. His hair fell unevenly around his face, and there was something charmingly innocent about his smile. When he looked up at her, she was caught off guard by how striking his eyes were.

"I'm really sorry about that," she said. "I don't know what's with me today."

The boy waved it off. "Nah, it's my fault—I should have been watching where I was going."

Sheik offered him a hand. "Do you need help getting up?"

He shook his head, getting to his feet. "No, I'm good." He smiled. "But thanks. You're a lot nicer than anyone else I've met around here."

"…So you're new to the area?"

"Yeah, but I probably won't be here long. I'm just looking for someone."

"Oh. Well, do you need help looking for them?" In her head, Sheik cursed herself for making such a suggestion. She barely knew this kid and probably wouldn't have the first clue where to look.

"Well, um…" the boy scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, "…do you know how to get to the Castle? Um, I just wanted to see it before I left and, uh…"

Sheik raised an eyebrow. Who exactly was this kid? Everyone knew how to find Hyrule Castle, regardless of whether or not they were an outsider. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Hyrule Castle is closed to tourists at the moment," Sheik said. The boy's expression didn't change.

"That's fine, I just wanted to see a glimpse of it from the outside. Do you know how to get there?" Sighing, Sheik gave him the directions. The boy smiled.

"Thank you for the help, I really appreciate it."

Sheik shrugged. "Sure. Good luck finding your friend," she said. She was about to turn around and walk away as she spotted something on the ground. A golden keychain. He must've dropped it.

"Hey! Wait up!" Sheik called, running up to the boy. "You left this." When the boy saw the object, his eyes widened. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you. Can't believe I was stupid enough to drop this." Sheik handed it to him, and—

—their hands touched.

Sheik froze as something strange came over her. She stood there, unable to move, as the overwhelming sensation washed over her very being. It was like having the wind knocked out of her. The very feeling was indescribably paralyzing.

And the boy pulled back his hand and it was gone.

"…Anyways, thanks a lot for all your help," he was saying, seeming a bit nervous as he started backing away from the disgruntled blonde. "I'm sure I'll be on my way in no time!" Sheik just stared at his retreating figure.

…What on earth…just happened?

((Edit: 9/10/15