Freida 5, back in action! this story takes place about fifty years after the ocarina of time game. it's only rated T for some of the language I let slip by. please review, I want to know if people like my style of writing.

I don't own any Nintendo brand settings or characters, but I made most of these people up anyway, so they're mine.

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ch 1, Everyday trauma

"What is with that girl?"

"All she does is sit there and space out"

"Yeah that or draw those weird pictures"

"Just ignore her, she's probably crazy"

Rebecca just blocked it out. The group of freshman moved away, laughing. She stopped doodling just long enough to look up and catch the group of girls giggling at a table across from her. "Tch, chalk up three more" she muttered darkly and bent over her drawing again.

Rebecca paused to brush her shoulder length dark blond hair out of her face. She was pretty good looking, with a small nose, light grey eyes, but not exactly beautiful. Not to mention that all she ever wore were old tee-shirts and jeans that covered her lanky frame. She examined her picture. The pirate ship was turning out really sweet but she just couldn't get the cannons quite right…

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A big hand slapped down on her picture and a shadow loomed over her. "Looks like someone left a giant dump in this seat."

Rebecca sighed and looked up into the face she hated most. Maurice Grisby tried to look intimidating with his slicked back, dark hair and permanently leering face, but his case of particularly bad acne and the fact that he was five foot four ruined his image.

His posse of huge 'friends' however made up for his lack of size. Three of them lurked right behind him, also smirking. Not that she cared about that now, they wouldn't pull anything serious in a crowded cafeteria. She snorted "Oh yes, so says the master of potty jokes. Seriously, you are how old?"

His smirk turned sour "I thought I told you not to come back to school this year. You make this place smell bad."

"Just because I have standards doesn't mean I have to skip town." She turned back to her drawing.

Maurice flushed angrily "You just wait. I'll get you back for last year! I might even pay you a visit after school today." With that he snatched up her picture and ripped it in half.

Rebecca rolled her eyes "Have a nice day" she said and pulled out another piece of paper to start again.

"You make me sick" he spat and stalked off, his guards trailing behind. Rebecca sat back and sighed again. She had hoped that he had forgotten the incident over his crime filled summer, but obviously he didn't. Her thoughts stretched back…

It had been the eleventh grade dance. Then wasn't much different from now, no friends, no dates, no social life. Then that slime ball Maurice asked her to go with him. She agreed, but not because she wanted to go. His dad was the mayor, and anything Maurice wanted Maurice got, or else. He certainly made that clear.

So she went shopping, got all dolled up, and had an okay time. To her surprise she actually enjoyed herself, dancing to the blaring pop music in the school gym. Maurice stayed with his posse most of the night and didn't bother asking her to dance.

But she soon found out the reason he had asked her out. When Maurice was going to drive her home, he stopped halfway to her house. He decided to get fresh and try to make a move on her. She had half expected this and slapped him hard in the face. Then she jumped out of the car and was about to walk home herself when she heard something that made her blood run cold: A swish and click. She turned around.

He had a knife.

That made her run. She hated the thought, but she ran for her life back to the school seven blocks away. She knew he was gaining on her when she saw someone. A tall man stepped out from an alley, but she ran past him. Then she heard the one sound that could have made her even more afraid.

The metallic scrape of a sword being drawn.

She wanted to scream but she saved her breath and ran faster than she had ever run in her life. Rebecca only stopped minutes later when she couldn't draw breath into her pain wracked lungs. She had doubled over but when she saw the shadow again out of the corner of her eye she forced herself upright and put her back to the wall, trembling. The man came out again and this time she could see that he was the weirdest thing she ever laid eyes on.

He seemed ancient. A long white beard covered his green tunic and white hair flowed from under a floppy green hat. Although he was hunched over with age he held himself like a man who was greatly respected. Then she noticed the sword hilt poking out behind his shoulder. Not only was that outlandish but it was glowing. She shrank a little as he came closer but he didn't draw. He held out his hand and said "Pease, don't be frightened. I got rid of him. Take this" She refused to move and the old man smiled. "I know you shouldn't take things from strangers, especially funny looking geezers like me, but it's important."

He also had a strange voice, an accent Rebecca couldn't place a finger on. But she was more worried about his sword than his voice. She reluctantly stuck out her hand. The man pressed something into her palm and something seemed to pop behind her eyelids. She felt like she was floating gently off the ground. This was insane! She was going mad!

The bell rang.

Rebecca started and looked up. Lunch was over. She packed up her books and paper and eyed the torn paper wondering whether to take it. Finally she decided anything he touched wasn't worth having.

For the rest of the day she didn't pay attention to the teachers… not that she paid much attention anyway. She got detention for reading in Mr. Chip's math class.

By the time Rebecca got home she was in a foul mood. No one stopped her on the way home from school thankfully. The museum was only open till four, but her Mom always worked late. Usually she didn't mind coming home to an empty house, but her conversation with Maurice today left a foul taste in her mouth. Right now she needed something to do.

She trudged upstairs to her room. She gazed at the picture covered walls. Some were from magazines and some were her own but all of them depicted some kind of fantasy. Dragons, meca robots, princesses, knights, pirates, ninjas: it seemed childish to hold onto these pictures as a seventeen year old, but she just didn't have the heart to throw them away. Plus, it was way better than the ugly flowery wall paper underneath.

Rebecca flounced on her bed and rummaged under her pillow. Maybe if she could find her favorite writing pencil she could try her hand at the fan-fic of that movie she saw last week… her hand brushed a wooden box and she shivered. But something made her take it out. She opened the lid slowly, like the thing inside might bite her, but all that was in there was a piece of jewelry.

That night when the man had given her something, it made her pass out. She woke up in her room with this clutched in her hand. It was a small golden triangle attacked to a chain.

She tried to figure out how the chain was attached but it seemed to be flawlessly welded to the pendent. Almost like magic she thought with a snort and made to stuff it back into the box, but again something compelled her. Rebecca slipped the chain over her head and without warning jumped out of bed and dashed down the stairs and out the door.

There she stopped, wide eyed. What was going on? But just as she thought that her body sprang into action. She ran down the street and around corners. She tried to stop but her legs kept sprinting. She tried to call for help at the people rushing by but a power had gripped her mouth shut. At last she stopped in front of a large building with pillars. This was the museum her mother worked at.

But that was impossible! She had only been running for three minutes tops, and this was at least a fifteen minute drive from her house! She gripped the pendant tightly and was about to turn back when something flew past her head. She froze, eyes widened as she heard laughter. She turned slowly and saw the only thing that could make tonight worse.

Maurice and a gang of five burly boys laughed at her and he hefted another rock. She ducked and they started laughing even harder. "Look what I found guys!" he said with a pronounced slur "The little virgin is outside all alone! Poor baby, we'll keep you company."

While he was talking Rebecca stood up and was reaching slowly into her pocket. Her mother gave her keys to the museum in case of an extreme emergency and this was about as extreme as it could get. These guys were drunk, and she knew what would happen if they got her.

As soon as he moved towards her she sprinted up the stairs. "Get her!" Maurice screamed and he ran right after her. At the door she fumbled with the key ring house key, car key come on, come on… she thought desperately. At last she got the right one and jammed it in the lock. Just as they had caught up with her she flung open the door and ran inside praying it would shut, that it would lock again. And it did. She fell to her knees with a grateful sigh but was on her feet in an instant when she saw one of the boys was carrying a lead pipe.

Rebecca raced away into the many curving and branching halls, hearing the crash and tinkle of glass as the hoods smashed the door open. She had to find a place to hide until security came, or the police, or anyone. She stopped at a familiar door, her mother's office. She unlocked it with her key, went inside, and locked it again hearing the pound of feet in the corridors behind her.

Rebecca forced her ragged breath under control and took a swift look around the room. She hadn't been in here lately, but it looked like all the other times she had visited her mom while she was at work. Imitation Grecian urns lined a wall next to a desk overflowing with paperwork. The only thing that was different was what looked like a table underneath a sheet in the middle of the room. She had never seen that here before. She had no idea what she was doing, but she was forced forward and ripped the sheet off of the object. This wasn't the best of times to enjoy the exhibits of the museum, but what she saw took her breath away.

The table had a beautiful mural on it. She couldn't tell what it was, but it was absolutely not meant to be in this tucked away corner of the museum. Three golden triangles formed a bigger triangle and through the middle a sword was thrust through, pointing down. The bottom half of the picture was swirling purple and black clouds with strange monsters on the sides and a pair of fierce red eyes staring sinisterly up at her. The top half was much nicer, a castle sat on the horizon and a lone horse was galloping along a wide grassy plain. She squinted at it, was it her imagination or was there a person in green on that horse…

There was a loud bang behind her and whirled around. Maurice had found her and kicked in the door! "Finally got you bitch" He snarled. "Now we have some unfinished business"

Rebecca, still wearing the necklace, felt like it injected molten lava into her, banishing her shock. She backed up to the row of jars. "Yeah we do have business to finish" she said calmly "I have to kick your ass" she grabbed one of the big jars behind her and threw it. It connected to his head, making a nice crunching sound. He staggered but remained upright.

He roared and Rebecca tried to get another jar to smack him again, but Maurice flung himself at her. She tried to run past him, but he blocked the exit. He grabbed her by the throat.

"Grandpa's not here to save you now" he whispered and tightened his grip. Rebecca panicked and tried to pull his hands away. He was going to strangle her to death! She had never been so scared… her vision started fading and her arms were getting heavy. She dropped one hand and it brushed against the pedestal.

The world exploded into white light.

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A minute later a whole squad of police pulled up in front of the museum. They ran through the broken door and flooded the main room with light. They split up and found five boys vandalizing the place. The police also found an office where one of the ancient historians worked. There were signs of a struggle; a forced door, broken vase and some drops of blood…

But no one was there.