Disclamer (fine print to save space): I don't own any of this. NADA! ZIPPO! Now leave me alone!

This might confuse you, but to separate parts of the story and to tell you which character the chapter is basically following, the section separators have the character's element written (Lorelei: Fire, Link: Earth, Zelda: Water, and so on…).

Ch. 1: The Immortal Words of…

It was dark in the long hallways of the tower. Orielle could practically feel the evil radiating from every stone that formed the wall, ceiling, and floor of the shadowy fortress, but she hardly noticed it. A scaly Dodongo wielding a long spear ordered her to keep going.

"Keep moving, Sssssshadowclaw. Lord Ganondorf said he wanted to sssspeak with you perssssssonally."

"Ah will move when Ah want tae, and not befah, general!" She whirled and glared at it menacingly. "Ye know why they call me Shadowclaw."

"Yeah, whatever. I get paid for thissss, and the longer you sssstay loitering out here, the lessss I earn."

"Well, sorry for dockin' yer salary! Ah paid ye bettah, anyway!"

"But I never got time off to sssspend it. Besides, you haven't sssent ussss on any raidssss. Where'ssss the fun in that?"

Orielle opened the door and stepped in. The large throne room had once belonged to her. She couldn't wait until she got her hands on that general and his faithless rabble. Oh, yes, they would pay. Once she got her stupid older half-brother out of the way, they would compensate dearly for their crimes.

"So, what do we have here? The mighty Orielle, betrayed by her most trusted officers. But I can't rule like this, now can I, dear sister?"

Ganondorf stood by a row of armored statues, watching her with contempt. He and Orielle were as different as an orange and an apple. Except for the fact that they both were evil murderers and people you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley, similarities ended there. Orielle wanted the world to just go off and die and leave her alone, but Ganondorf wanted the Triforce of Power. Orielle's only magic was healing power and fire, which she never used anyway, while there was almost no limit to what Ganondorf could do with his sorcery. The list went on and on.

"Ah ken see yer in a good mood," Orielle muttered, undoing the knots on her wrist knives. They fell into her palms noiselessly.

"Orielle, speak Hylean, for goodness' sake!"

"Fine then," Orielle said out loud, dropping the accent she had worked so hard over the years to perfect. It helped in deals with foreign mercenaries. "Better?"

"Very much so."

"I have been wondering," Orielle said, seemingly to nobody in particular, "what my half-brother wants with me. After all, he's taken my army, my tower, and my money. What else could he possibly need?" Ganondorf smiled evilly, a smile that meant he had expected the question and planned out an answer for it beforehand.

"Actually, all I want is the little cedar chest you keep under the first gargoyle to the left of the third suit of armor on the left side of this room. I can't get to it, however, without the protections lowered. Maybe…" He jumped out of the way just as one of the wrist knives Orielle was holding hurtled past him and stuck point first in the stone. The second stuck fast in the hilt of the first.

"Maybe what? I'll politely stop living so the magic disappears! Over my dead body!"

"The point, exactly!" Ganondorf shouted, charging with his swords drawn. Orielle was taken completely by surprise. She ducked out of the way and ran, fumbling with her own epee. Finally, she managed to get it out while hiding behind a bit of wall she had blown to bits after her army suffered a total loss during one of her first campaigns.

Its hilt had the color of an overripe eggplant, a dark purple, almost black, with bat-like wings on the sides and a glowing green stone in the center. Its blade was made of the darkest steel available, and it was evil looking, like it should. Many innocent beings had fallen to the sharpened steel of the Slayer, as she had dubbed it.

"How did I know I would find you here?" Ganondorf appeared before her eyes, taunting her.

Orielle rushed at the figure, only to have it disappear as she ran it through with her sword.

"Why are you looking like that?" Ganondorf's voice echoed through the throne room. "Some commander, you don't even turn around and look at your brother face to face."

"You're only my half-brother!" she cried to absolutely everywhere at once.

Orielle ran out into the middle of the room, cutting down another illusion. She spat angrily, silently cursing herself for her stupidity. To hide her anger, she called out into the room, "Some person you are! Come out and fight!"

"Fine, if that's what you want."

She turned around to see the real Ganondorf, his face close to hers, pure hatred and malice written all over it.

"Die."

#Fire#

Lorelei woke up. Where was she? Oh yeah, she thought, I'm back in bed, in the middle of the night, and I just had a nightmare. She got up and pulled on a white shirt (it had a high collar that she left unbuttoned because it was in style, and long puffed sleeves with cuffs she left open just because she could), a sleeveless, sky blue tunic edged in silver, with leather belt around the waist, and white breeches (the standard uniform of a page, or knight-to-be), brushed her long, blonde hair (it fell past her knees), and pulled on her boots. She thought for a few seconds before tucking her knife, or her "trusty"(as a certain page would call it, an annoying idiot named Pasco to be precise) in her pocket, in case she had to pick a lock or something, and looked into the mirror. A girl of about eight stared back with soft, rose-colored eyes. Lorelei, or Lor, as she was called by her few friends among the pages in Hyrule Castle, was not your average knight-in-training. First of all, she was two years younger than her classmates, and second, she was the only girl to even try to learn the warrior code in Hyrule's entire history.

She stole silently down the corridors, checking behind her back. She was almost positive someone was watching her. Why was she so jumpy today? She sighed and exited the building, climbed up the stairs to the top of the wall, and stood upon the battlements. Lor looked over her shoulder again and jumped into the moat, crossing her arms across her chest so as to make the smallest possible ripple and noise. The water hit her with an icy blast, and she quickly hurried to the other side. Pulling herself out, she lied on the ground, catching her breath. It was stifling hot outside, but the moat always remained cold. She shook off most of the wet, wondering why she couldn't let herself just walk through the gate like a normal, sane person. Guess I'm paranoid, she thought, not really caring one bit.

As she walked through the empty streets of Castle City, she tried to remember most of the dream. Already, it was vanishing from her mind like smoke on a windy day. She neared the outer limits of the fortified city, and climbed the walls once again. This time, there was no moat, and she had to jump over a pit of sharpened stakes instead. Lor landed, catlike, on her feet, and took off running towards a shadow in the distance: the mesa that had once held a key fortress in times of war, now reduced to a few pillars and a field of grass by hundreds of years of disuse, Amon Anor, Watchtower of the Setting Sun.

"It should be here somewhere," she muttered, feeling the hard stone. Her hand ran across a notch in the wall. Centuries ago, someone carved stairs into the rock, but time and erosion had left only thin hand and footholds to use. She began to climb, gripping to the hard stone like her life depended on it (actually, it kind of did). Suddenly, some rock she was holding onto broke free, sending a shower of scree and loose stones down the cliffside. Something winced in pain below her; Lor assumed it was a small animal that made its burrow in the cliff.

Lor looked down, just to be sure. All she saw was the cliff face and the foliage below. She climbed the last notch and stood, staring out at the amazing city, some lights beginning to flicker on as servants got ready to work, preparing for another busy day, and at Castle City's twin in size and population, Kakriko, just to the east, at the foot of Death Mountain, where once, centuries ago, a great city was carved into it and it was the home of all the Gorons. The Gorons now wandered, practicing their trade as blacksmiths, or lived in smaller halls in the various mountain regions in the foreboding Highlands.

Death Mountain was forsaken and was now considered haunted by most, and they had good reason. Those who ventured there, if they were lucky, returned raving mad, and, if they were like most everybody else, did not return at all. But the Gorons, and others, whose parents told them stories that were told by their parents, and back and back, until it passed out of all memory and records, did not forget the power and wealth of its leaders long ago, and never gave up hope that one day, it would be made great once more.

Lor turned to face the north. The endless expanse of foliage, the Lost Woods, which grew nearly to the edge of the mesa, covered most everything with a blanket of reds, yellows, oranges, and browns as the trees prepared to shed their leaves for the winter. Though it covered most of Hyrule's land, nobody ever went into the woods. It was dangerous. Lor had heard stories of it, the bands of warriors known only as the Kokiri, short in stature and deadly with a bow, clad in the green of the forests, the swift, silent messengers of death to those who enter. Trespassers were shot on sight, no questions asked. The king often tried to send ambassadors with offers of allegiance to their leader, Nadril, but they came back riddled with eagle-fletched arrows of ash wood. In the end, the king simply stopped trying.

At the other side of the mountain laid the Ruins of Domain, once the haven for the Zoras, who died out at the end of the Time Before the Seas, when the ocean covered the country and it was forever lost, until an ambitious young treasure hunter discovered it in an adventure that would take days to retell. They say that if you could find your way in, you would be blessed with the power to control the water, and bend it to your will. Or so they say.

To the west of the Lost Woods was the Great Lake (Lake Hylia, but nobody in this time in Hyrule's history knows that, Hylians weren't exactly award-winning historians at the time), where the spirits of those who are dead are said to gather on nights when there is no moon. These spirits are known simply as Wights, and like to prey on human souls. They normally congregate around barrows and mausoleums, but occasionally wander away from their homes and attack those traveling past the time the sun sets in the west, or haunt tomb robbers when they can find some, slowly eating their soul and controlling the victim's every move, until that person becomes like the dreaded and most feared Wraith, neither living nor dead.

Lor turned back to the plateau. The grass here was silver, and reflected almost every color of the rainbow. It was a place of magic, and where Lor went when she needed time to herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of purple. She dismissed it as a figment of her imagination, and sat down on fallen column to look at the top of the dome, and the moonlight shining through the ocean. She wished she could see the stars, too, but the water blocked the view. As much as she loved the below-world, her home, she imagined what it was like thousands of years ago when there was no dome and people all over could see the sparkling lights in the nighttime sky.

Lor had lived her whole life in the below-world. The oceans and islands above were a mystery to her. As were some other things, like boats, dolphins, and the sea.

"Stars are like fireflies, except they stay still in the sky and don't blink," her sister had tried to explain after her first trip up. Lor was five at the time and had tried to imagine fireflies frozen in the watery darkness, but it just didn't fit. The dome was like a cage made of gold, amazing, but still just a prison.

It had taken her forever to coax her parents, the king and queen of Hyrule, into letting her become a knight. Of course, nobody knew about her royal heritage, and Lor would probably die of embarrassment if someone found out. All of the boys at the castle assumed that she was from a lesser noble family, not listed in any of the volumes and chronicles (such as the Book of Silver and the Book of Gold) that named the longest existing, most loyal houses.

When Lor gave up her chance to go above and learn magic with her older sister, Zelda, first in line to the throne, she also gave up the right to travel above without an armed escort. Everyone in Castle City was constantly living in silent fear that Ganon might awaken and once again try to shroud the world in darkness, and they weren't taking any chances. The royal family was too overprotective for her tastes. Sometimes, she wondered if she was actually a princess at all.

Dawn was getting close. Light was beginning to creep over the horizon. Lor stood up and stretched, then turned again to jump to the ground and run like lightning so as to arrive at the castle before anyone woke up and realized she was missing. That happened once. It just made lots of things complicated and she missed her morning lessons because of it.

"I was wondering how long you were going to sit there. Heck, it's been hours!"

Lor looked to her right, startled. A boy, no older than ten, was sitting next to her, dressed exactly like her. His hair was blond, kind of long for a boy's, and all over the place. He didn't seem to mind that it was falling in his eyes, which were a deep sapphire blue. He smiled, standing up and stretching, as well. This boy was taller than her by about a half a foot. Lor stepped back in surprise and tripped, falling painfully onto a flagstone.

The boy began to laugh. Lor felt her face grow hot. Who did this jerk think he was? He was going to get an earful from her. She stood up and…

"Who are you?" she asked. There went the long lecture. You're such an airhead! screamed a nasty part of her mind, far away.

"Heh, heh. I'm Link. I'm a page at the castle. You probably know about me already, but, hey, I never asked to be good at fighting, or to be popular." He held out his hand, still laughing. Lor gasped. Link smiled at her surprise.

Link lived on the floating city of Carillon (which was currently situated somewhere north of the Forest, maybe over Zaroc, perhaps on the border of the North Shore, home of the three Clans and separated by a desert, refuge only to the nomadic Sand Tribes). He was a legend among the pages at the castle, always coming out on top in whatever he did, and as a result was constantly surrounded by crowds of female admirers offering him a towel or a glass of water.

Lor had to admit that she had been one of those people in the crowds at one point, not really to admire, but to see what all the fuss was about. She got crowds, as well, though most people turned up in hopes that a smack with a practice weapon would send her home crying. Everybody thought that, deep down inside, she was like all the other girls: weak, timid, shy, and in need of protection. Lor was none of these things, and proved it every day, which gained her many enemies among the students, especially the squires, which she occasionally bested in some areas. ("Pure luck," she said every time.)

"I'm Lorelei. You can call me Lor. I'm a page, too."

"Yeah, I've seen you around the castle. The only girl page ever? That's really hard to believe." Lor confirmed it, having checked the records at least a gazillion times.

"You ride that possessed horse, Take Two, don't you?" he leaned in closer to her and whispered, "I have a bet going that you'll come back next year, so don't spoil it. I have fifty rupees per page riding on you."

"My horse's name is Double Take," Lor corrected, a mental picture of her beloved blue roan flashing in her mind: the wildest, fastest stallion in all of Hyrule, a birthday gift. Fifty rupees per page? Do any of them even have that much? She added, "Why were you following me? Are you secretly a hired stalker or something?"

"Stalker? Now where would you get that idea?" he asked, pretending to be shocked, then added, "You always come out here. Almost every night, you just walk down the corridor and climb the walls and you're gone. All the guys have dares to follow you as far as possible."

"How far do they get?" Lor asked, slightly curious and more than a little annoyed.

"Some stop at the end of the hall. Most get to the castle walls, and some even go as far as the walls of the city. Nobody's ever followed you out here, because of the Wights."

"Except you," Lor said slowly, more to herself than to anyone else.

"Except me." Behind Link, the grass swished and parted. Two eyes shone brightly from the grass. Something roared.

"Behind you!" Lor screamed, grabbing the collar of his tunic and pulling him down.

A huge, cat-like beast leaped out of the grass and flew over their heads, landing several feet away, digging its claws into the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust as it skidded to a stop and swung 'round to face them at the same time. Link quickly got to his feet.

The large cat's purple fur with tiger-like green stripes gleamed as if it had just swum across a river. Its fangs were long, and dropped below its jaw, giving it a saber-cat appearance, and where covered in foam and saliva. It growled low and bounded in their direction again, then sprang, teeth bared, and claws out.

"Look out!" Link shoved Lor away from him. She staggered and fell backwards, her knife hand going up to protect her face. It dragged across the monster's soft belly-fur, slicing a long gash in its underside. It fell slain a few feet behind her, dark blood and worse spilling from the long slash that ran down its body. Link walked over to Lor and pulled her up.

"What the heck was that?" Lor asked, staring at the creature she had accidentally killed with wide eyes. Link was about to answer, but the grass rustled again.

Suddenly, twelve purple cats entered the glade and made a beeline to the body of the dead creature. It was devoured in no time; the beasts even swallowed the fur and bones. Link, getting over the shock of watching a living thing eat its own kin, pushed Lor back and drew a sword from his back. It was actually a long dagger, perhaps an undersized shortsword, double-bladed, and a channel down the middle. It had a leather-wrapped hilt and a polished piece of jade fixed into the pommel. He held it in front of him, ready to guard them both.

"Hey, I'm not some weakling damsel in distress," Lor told Link, shoving him to the side and walking to stand where she could see the enemy, "I'm a page, 'member?"

"Whatever you say," Link muttered, dropping into the fighting stance that the pages had only learned a couple of days before.

Their brief snack over with, the monsters turned on Lor, who, being the smaller of the two humans, must have looked easier to kill. They yowled and ran in her direction. One pounced, its claws glinting in the moonlight, dark blood dripping from their jaws… Lor shut her eyes tight and thrust out with her knife. It struck into the beast's neck, and it dropped onto the ground, struggling to rise again. Other beasts pounced on it, biting into its flesh as the fallen monster, still trying to get up, roared in pain. Its cries were soon cut off.

The cats, now full from eating two of their own, still did not give up attacking. They charged forward with even more fervor, focused on the hunt. Link swept his blade across one's throat; Lor dropped to her knees and cut another on its shoulder blade. It growled angrily and swiped at her, its paw caught her across her face and she fell to the ground, blood trickling from a single cut on the right side. Link slashed its side and stabbed it; it died instantly, the evil fire vanishing from its wide eyes as it stared, unmoving, into the sky. One jumped on Link from behind; another raked its claws across the front of his tunic. Lor moved forward slowly, as if in a dream. Everything seemed fuzzy, and she couldn't think straight. A cat had pinned Link's sword arm down, raising its claws for the killing blow. Her eyes met its; the demon froze, staring her down.

"Let him go," she growled, focusing all her willpower on the cat, "If you want a fight, try me."

The cat climbed slowly off Link. He lifted his sword to kill it, but another cat tried to claw at his leg, and he turned and ran it through as it rose onto its hind legs, the blood spraying everywhere. Some landed on his sleeve and disintegrated the cloth in that spot. The monster that had been about to kill him earlier stalked towards Lor, who lifted her knife and dropped into the fighting stance.

It launched itself, she ducked out of the way, the dreamlike state gone from her mind and she wondered if the pages were right, and she really was insane. Her foe turned around and lunged for her, yowling madly. She staggered back, clawed savagely in three places. It attacked again, she jumped away quickly, one hand on a particularly bad cut to stem the bleeding. It wasn't working very well, and she couldn't get away fast enough with one hand occupied. The cat placed a heavy paw on her neck and bared its teeth, preparing to bite down hard.

"I was in way over my head, and I knew it," Lor whispered, closing her eyes and waiting for death to come, "I was stupid." Death failed to show up.

Her captor yowled in fury; one of its back legs was limp. Link attacked it again, using moves that he would have only been taught the day before. This time, the cat blocked the sword with extended claws. Link yanked it from the monster and tried again. The cat ducked to one side and bit down on the blade. It twisted its head; the sword was wrenched from Link's hands. It sailed across the ruins and stuck into the ground.

What I wouldn't do for a bow, or even a lousy slingshot, Lor thought helplessly, watching Link dodge bites and clawings from the demon cat. Her grip tightened on the knife handle. The knife! Gazing at her reflection in the blade, she thought. If I could throw it hard enough, Link could gain enough time to retrieve his sword. But there was a chance she could hurt Link, if she didn't aim right… It's a chance I'll have to take, she thought grimly. Raising it, she sent a prayer to anyone above that was willing to listen, Don't let me hurt Link. Looking away and closing her eyes, she threw her knife. A horrible scream followed; Lor opened her eyes, fearing the worst.

The demon was clawing desperately at the knife, lodged in its throat. Its cries became gurgles as blood entered its mouth. It was still clawing at its neck when Link came up behind it with his sword raised. He thrust down on it; the demon writhed in pain. Link jumped back as the monster twisted and rolled. It finally flipped onto its back, a last ditch attempt to free both the sword and the knife from its body. In doing so, it accidentally impaled itself on the sword, which had only been stuck a little bit into its back before, but was now protruding from its stomach. Its struggles grew weaker and eventually stopped altogether. It was finally dead.

Lor stood up; somehow, the wounds that had pained her before were almost healed. It was like magic! Link was trying to roll the monster carcass over, without much luck. The oddly dark blood of the monster was flooding over his hands; they were being burned by it. As Lor drew closer, she realized that the blood was not only dark, but it was as black as pitch. She grabbed Link's bare arm to pull him away from it; his sleeves were now burned away from the battle. No sword was worth risking further injury to her friend.

"I need my sword," he muttered angrily, "It's my only weapon." He kicked the monster, which was already almost over from his pushing it and the sword's leverage. It did the trick, the carcass rolled over. Link yanked out his sword. The angry red burns on his arms and hands had faded, leaving scars that were barely visible.

"Awww, no," Link cried, testing the sword edge on his boot (which had quite a few slices on it in that particular area), "The blade's gone dull. Sword's useless now. I'll have to sharpen it for weeks!" Lor looked at him, confused.

"Watch out for this stuff, Lor," Link told her, showing her the blood, "It's like acid. Burns away everything it touches. Man, look at the size of this thing!" Lor looked at the monster.

"What about it?" she asked dumbly.

"It's huge compared to the others. And check out the claws." Link used his sword to lift one of the large paws up. It's claws glinted silver under red human blood.

"Steel reinforced," Lor whispered, gingerly touching the tip of a claw. It cut her finger. "No wonder it was so hard to beat." Someone began to applaud them from behind. The pages turned slowly, their weapons raised.

"Impressive! The best I've seen yet, of all the pages you have at that pathetic school. Too bad I'll have to kill you." A man strode casually into the field, looking at the Link's sword, dripping with the black, acidic liquid. He had long black hair and deep red eyes, and, Lor noticed, fangs as well. He looked at both of them like he just dared them to even try to do anything.

"Who the heck are you?" Lor demanded, both she and Link dropping back into a fighting stance.

"I don't believe you're in the position to ask questions, sweet girl. Now put away those weapons."

Lor suddenly felt cold steel at her throat. She looked up into the glowing yellow eyes of a monster; a Wolfos, to be exact, and it was holding a nasty-looking ridged dagger obsidian in one paw. "Drop that knife, or I'll cut yer throat," it growled. Lor dropped her knife. The strange man walked over to her and picked it up, then walked back to his original position between them both. He tried to grab Link's sword, too, but as soon as he touched it, he drew back as if it had bitten him.

"Yarrharr, we gotsss 'em, sssah! Dey ain't goin' nowheresss!" hissed the Dodongo that had Link.

"Yeah, nowheres but here! Harharharouch! Wha' was that for, eh?"

"Aw, ssstow the gab, ye chucklehead," said the Dodongo, who had just savagely kicked the Wolfos.

"Enough!" cried the man, swiftly walking close, glaring at the quarreling monsters. Both shrank back, unable to meet their master's gaze. Link turned to Lor, and smiled.

"I'll get us out of this mess."

"I don't doubt you," replied Lor (who didn't like being called "sweet girl" anymore than you would like being called "charming young lady"/"my little man"), calculating the exact time, angle, and force she would need to send the monsters and their master all sailing over the cliff face. Hey, math and history were her strong points. The man began to speak, seemingly remembering a time long ago.

"This place used to be a fortress, Amon Anor, Watchtower of the Setting Sun. It was meant to keep me out, to stop me from gaining control of this place. Long has it done so, but no longer. The seal shall be broken; the world shall become dark, and I shall be king before long. Yes, eventually, I will rule Hyrule. I will not be denied." He turned his back to them, "Mine. At long last, once the seal is broken, it shall be mine once more…"

That was when Lor made her move. Wrenching herself from her captor's viselike grip, she hurled herself at the man and caught him in a flying tackle, and red began to obscure her vision. He was caught off guard and tripped, but still managed to use Lor's own knife to stab her in the side. Her eyes seemed flash blood red for an instant and her hair almost took on a black shine, then both disappeared as soon as they came. A dark purple orb of dark energy appeared in the man's palm.

Lor was thrown across the plateau like a sack of flour, where she slammed into a pillar. It collapsed over her; the Dodongo and Wolfos regained their senses and jumped out of the way. Link moved from under it just in time. Lor pulled herself out from amidst the settling dust and loose stones that had rained down on her.

"DARK ESCAPE!"

The man and monsters disappeared right before her eyes. The red dissipated, retreating beyond the edges of her vision, waiting to return someday and wreak havoc. Actual pain started to seep into her consciousness, replacing the annoying stinging that was her wound. She pulled herself out the rest of the way and collapsed onto the grass, hot tears streaming down her face, betraying her silent agony as the red of her blood mingled with the black already there, and, hissing, was eaten up by dark, acidic monster blood.

Link appeared at her side and held her up. Her breathing had gone shallow, she nearly fainted from the pain, and as she felt the wound, all the flesh in that area had gone deathly cold, and the coldness was spreading.

"Girl's aren't supposed to be knights, Link," she managed to whisper, "and I've died proving it."

"You aren't dead yet, and you won't ever die if I have my way with you," he retorted, angered by her remark. How could she just give up like that! After all that had happened, everything that had gone on, how could she just loose hope? He glared at the wound in her side.

"I have fifty rupees per page riding on your survival," he said softer, "I can't afford that much." Lor didn't hear him; she had fainted.

#Fire#

Far away, in a dark tower at the very edge of the earth, Ganon sat in what was once a study, leafing through chapter after chapter in dusty old journals, records, and legends, bent on solving the puzzle set before him. Who was that girl, the one who had so recklessly and stupidly tried to attack him? Had the spirit of the Great Warrior split and became two? Had a new, different would-be heroine arisen to try and defeat him? He racked his personal memory, and the memories of so many that came before him that he inherited, until, at last, he found it, the truth, in a dusty tome about the Werecat Orielle. His sister. The one he thought he killed, ages ago. She was still out there.

The mask, the fire, the blade. They all hold a fourth of the soul of Orielle Mornarwen. The mask was hidden in Termina, where it wrecked destruction and havoc using the evil powers of Majora and the malice and loathing towards almost all that breathes of the Werecat. The fire, entrusted to the Great Fairy, given to a hero to use for good and not evil as it was intended… and the blade… the worst of the three, that takes control of the actions of all that wield it, though their minds remain untouched… was hidden in a place so secret, it cannot be found, save by those who already know where it is. Should they all meet in the same place, the fire and blade would combine, and the mask would split in two, so the transformation of the one the fourth part sleeps inside shall never be reversed.

Ganon growled and looked down at the hand of the body he was borrowing. He was starting to see the floor through it. That was what happened when you borrow a body: instead of rotting, they vanish after awhile. He had a good feeling that he was going to need a new guise soon, as this one was starting to fade.

Realm of the Gods

"DIN! DIN! HE'S BACK!" Farore, the usually bright, cheery goddess of earth, burst into the chamber that was Din's bedroom. She fell to the floor, exhausted after her long run.

"Oh, stop it, Farore. That joke became old years ago. Ganon can't be back, he turned to stone." Din and Nayru turned around to look at their sister, who was panting and looking very worried, indeed. This just wasn't like her. Farore's hair had fallen out of its pigtails, and dropped to her shoulders as a mass of tiny green curls. Her green dress was wrinkled, her socks rumpled, and she had taken a disheveled appearance. Din wore her long red hair in a ponytail that dropped to the small of her back. Her clothes were a bright red sleeveless jumpsuit and knee-length boots. Nayru went for the pretty maiden look, wearing a sleeveless blue dress of the latest style of Hyrule nobilities. A silver tiara rested atop her long blue hair, left down.

"Let me show you." Holding up her hand, Farore made a magical replay of what she had seen.

'This is serious," Nayru muttered.

"Darn," Din muttered, "Not again. I'll take care of this!"

The replay continued to run. Din did a double-take. "Wait, rewind that! Who's she? That can't be Zelda, she's smarter than that."

"It's Lorelei of Castle City, Zelda's sister." Nayru said.

"Oh… her…" Din turned around to face the wall.

"Perhaps this is the way it was meant to be, sister?" Nayru asked, "After all, she was once on the side of light. Perhaps she can come back to the light."

"You always see the best in everyone, Nayru," Farore groaned.

"It looks like the Legend of the Hero is about to be reborn," Din said ominously.

Charater profile

Name: Lorelei

Gender: Female

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Rose

Profession: Page, archeological maniac, part-time princess

Hobby: Racing, finding artifacts from ruins.

Special Abilities: Super fast, thinks on her feet. Has dreams of the past, particularly of the Werecat Orielle and a particularly foggy one of three different ruins. She can feel the presence of ghosts, though she can't see or hear them. She can manipulate fire at a later point. Cannot be injured by fire, and smoke doesn't hurt her as bad as most people, though it could still kill her at a high enough level.

Strengths: Speed, agility, stamina. She wears down her opponents before going in for the kill.

Weaknesses: Her blows are soft, she's very light, and her soul is weaker than most, so she can be possessed or otherwise controlled easily.

Element Designation: Fire

Palidin: Chain

Notes: Cheerful, rather hyper. Has a little too much enthusiasm. Somewhat forgetful. Strongly dislikes the fuss of the royal life. Has a love/hate relationship with her sister, Zelda, but would probably do anything to save her in the end.

Hi. My name's Kendansa and I'm an Otaku. I'm also insane and a control freak. My favorite flavor of rice balls (onigiri to some) would probably be shrimp flavor, if it exists. I also like Tamora Pierce and Rachel Roberts. And J. R. R. Tolkien. Or anything like that. Please send me a review. I like getting reviews. It's fun. Kendasna go boom!