The moon was a distant sliver, crowning the ebon sky in cold, faint light. Waves pitched and rolled beneath his tiny boat, and the rain fell almost horizontally now, but he would not, - could not, turn back. The massive, looming spire of Dragon Roost invisible through the battering torrent, he could only guess as to how close he was. The wind alone threatened to throw him and his craft beneath the currents. Lightning traced arcs across the sky, burning through the sable night like so many veins of firelight. The storm's fury was at his back now, driving him, full in his sails. He could feel its might bearing down upon him, tossing him, careening him forward wildly into the darkness. He closed his eyes for but a moment and remembered the winds atop Outset. He remembered flying - he was flying, hurtling through the empty air. The sickening realization that the floor had fallen away from him came too late, and as he opened his mouth to scream it was met with only frigid, unforgiving water.

"Nayru, help me! "

The taste of salt, the feeling of the wet sand on his face...His thoughts became darkness, and he knew no more.

-

He was falling through mist. Voices permeated the thick curtain of fog, like knives stabbing into his mind, white hot and jarring.

"...Who is that?! Look!..."

"...will he live...?"

"WAKE UP!"

"BREATHE!"

The force of a mountain was upon his chest. He was coughing up seawater by the bucketful, choking. Everything hurt. There was shouting, and suddenly he was being carried. "Am I... dead...?" he pondered as he slipped back into the shadows.

"LINK!"

He felt his body jerk stiff. All his muscles screamed in agonizing protest to no avail. His eyes... could he open his eyes? He strained against his eyelids, but they were as lead. He wondered if he was blind or simply too weak to move them.

"Link!"

That voice. That melodic voice... he opened his mouth to speak, to reply, to shout that he was okay...

"I... I'm..."

His voice was so faint he could hardly hear it himself. He had to speak, to make contact... to nod? Could he? Forcing his muscles to move, he slowly jerked his head up and down, fighting the pain of movement.

"Link! Don't try to move! You're hurt... here, let me help you..."

Suddenly there was warmth against his mouth and in his throat, an exquisite burning. He fancied he felt lips brush his forehead, as the tension melted away... was he dreaming...?

-

When next he woke, he was more lucid. He slowly eased his eyes open. The light from the tiny window in the wall was like a hot knife against his eyes, but as he blinked the pain receded. He could see clouds, outside that window... bricks, around it; dull, grey, rectangular bricks. The enveloping sheets he lay beneath were like misty specters in the hazy darkness of the room. "Where am I?"

He remembered voices, sharp, jagged voices... screams... he saw lightning... none of it made sense. Licking his lips, all he could taste was salt. Salt... A sound split the heavy silence, like a whip against his ears, hard and blunt. The creak of a door. A footstep. Soft breathing. A shadow moved against the dark background of walls, and he heard the door close.

"Oh, Link..."

The voice sounded so... sad? - Almost agonized... as though its holder were the one in pain, rather than he.

This new presence lingered for only moments, leaving as swiftly as it had arrived. Sinking back into the soft comfort of the bed, Link drifted away once more.

Music. There was music... faint at first... soft, staccato notes, quavering and echoing throughout the stone chamber. So sad... and yet, so sweet! Like a final kiss, a last glance. Mesmerizing music, it was. He lingered between dreams and reality, lost in the notes. It seemed the playing lasted for hours, ebbing and flowing like the tide in and out of reality and consciousness. When finally it stopped, he was saddened by its absence, left in a void of silence, falling away again.

FWOOOSH!

... cold water surged past his face and body, and the sudden icy rush made him inhale. Choking, he kicked and thrashed, frantic to surface. Air! He needed AIR! But no, he was sinking away from the light... down... colors burst and bled before his eyes and his vision swam. He steeled himself for one... final... PUSH!

Link lurched upright so quickly that he nearly launched himself out of his bed. Cold sweat streaming down his face, he panted and gasped for air, grasping at the sheets so hard his fingers went numb. For nearly an hour he sat this way, sickened and horrified, too shocked to move, let alone return to sleep. He picked out details on the stone walls around him, lines and cracks in the bricks, tracing them into one another, trying to come to his senses, to get his bearings in the dull light. Nothing made sense. Where was he? What... what had happened to him? Dreamlike pictures bled together in his mind, painting a twisting scene of water and pain.

"I have to get out," he thought, "or I'll lose my mind."