Greetings, readers. I am the Knight of Sydonia, also known as La Moirae. More on how *that* strange occurrence came to be is in my profile, I won't bother you guys with it here.

This is my first Legend of Zelda fic. Only Ocarina of Time is taken into consideration, since a). it's the only game I've played and b). it just makes things a little easier. It takes place seven years after Link is sent back, and Ganondorf has just escaped prison.

PLEASE READ THIS! IT IS CRUCIAL TO GETTING THE STORY!

This somewhat follows the "Child Link" timeline in which Link does not take the Master Sword and Ganondorf is captured and imprisoned for treason against the king. Unfortunately, I messed up after this, since I thought it was the Hylians who imprisoned him, not the Sages. So this is actually an AU based on this timeline, mainly because I had already finished writing this chapter when I discovered this fact. My bad *sweatdrop* If I majorly goofed with the history anywhere else, please tell me.

/end note

That being said, enjoy the story!

Chapter One-The Chase

Legends are the tethers that link the past to the present. No other form of narrative, no other form of recollection, has the permanence of the great tale. Memories, after all, are subject to the personal lens, and often are interred in the grave. Written histories, hand-picked by the victors, crumble to dust more frequently than they are exhumed. Yet legends are persistent, evolving but ever present, told to children who eagerly listen from their beds, whispered around campfires in the dead of night, recanted by the drunkard in the tavern who swears he was the hero. They never become dated.

Then there is truth. Most would claim, if only reciting the lessons of their forbears, that every story has a grain of truth, no matter how small. Occasionally, a stargazing youngster decides to try their luck and chase the legend, hoping to find that truth. Though most would return home, discouraged and battered, ready to settle down and marry that pretty thing next door, start a family, run a farm or store and retell their failures as a warning to their children, still others followed the rainbow to its fortuitous end, weaving tales far more appealing than those of caution . Through their efforts, stories were not always confined to mere hearsay, but instead released to the hereafter, and the cycle would once more begin through the words from their mouth.

In that same spirit, the chase began.

* * *

An old Hylian legend begins thus:

In what is now the west of Hyrule, there once existed the tiny kingdom of Temuria. A great man, whose name has never been passed down, was the king of this little province. When he was killed in battle, his son was only thirteen, and too young yet to take the throne. Instead, the high priestess of the Royal Temple was selected to bear the crown until the young prince came of age. Acting as regent, she oversaw all the affairs of the kingdom…as well as the nefarious activities of the future king. For the boy had a heart incapable of kindness, and his soul was blackened by a dark cloud of evil.

A quarter moon shone brightly over the desert sands, illuminating them with a glow almost heavenly. Contrasting with the sea of white was the ocean of darkness that circled overhead, a starless night despite the lack of clouds. And acting as a sort of messenger between the two worlds was a black horse and his rider, their speed leaving puffs of glittering dust in their wake, moonlight glinting off the gold that decorated saddle, bridle, and the man himself. No others but they disturbed the silence.

Most would find the desert harsh and unforgiving, a place where none could survive. Here, above all other places, the Gerudo king Ganondorf was in his element. He had conquered it, trampled it beneath his might, subjected it to his iron will, bent it till it bowed to him. The sands that scorched the throat and burnt the lungs were like an elixir to him, and he drank it in. Even the death chill of desert nights could not bite him, for it was written in his blood as surely as the sweltering heat of the desert morn.

If nothing else, it gave him great advantage over his pursuer.

He knew they would send him. Actually, he doubted they'd even had to raise a finger, that wretched kid being the big damn hero that he was. After seeing the guards strewn about as though they were merely dolls, the boy would have immediately jumped on his horse and made chase, desiring nothing more than to bring Ganondorf to justice.

Frankly, it made Ganondorf ill. With as much skill as he possessed, with the influence he held, especially over the princess, it would be a simple matter to take the throne of Hyrule for his own. Instead, the boy wasted his time with pointless heroics, championing undeserving weaklings who were too lazy or too cowardly to fight for themselves.

Ganondorf glanced over his shoulder. No one yet. Turning forward again, he saw a small, dark mound rising from the sands. It quickly soared to become a parapet, and the dark shadow of the rest of the castle loomed behind it, hiding beyond the sand dune. He allowed himself a smirk of triumph. His foe would certainly be too late to stop him.

Watching the boy grow older yet no wiser, the priestess became heartsick with worry, she being the kind-hearted person she was. In the years she had spent as regent, she had become a mother to the people of Temuria, and just like a bear with her cubs, she would fight to the death to protect them. So she devised a plan to prevent the soon-to-be king's dark intentions from coming to fruition.

As the Gerudo king dismounted, he spotted a cloud of dust rising up on the horizon. His lip curled in disdain. Ah, here was his enemy now, come to try his luck against him once more. But this time, the boy had a reputation under his belt, and seven years experience. Oh, well, it hardly mattered. He was still a good distance yet. Gauging by that clock, Ganondorf knew he had enough time to retrieve his treasure, even if he had to fight for safe exit.

Ganondorf grabbed the reins and tied them to a door handle that had once led to a dark passageway, but now revealed only moonlit rubble. He pulled on the door to ensure that his tether held fast, then entered through gaping hole just a few yards away. Let the boy know he was here. After all, the hero seemed intelligent enough, or at least extremely persistent, and he would likely have combed the ruins whether the horse was tied conspicuously or not.

The interior of the castle was covered in debris to the point where it was almost impassable. Sections of even ground were so scarce that Ganondorf found himself doing an absurd dance to keep from falling over. This deterred him from peering too closely at anything, a pity considering that the artifact would be not be easily discernable, else it would have been pilfered already. Damn. He might have to wait until he gathered what remained of his tribe, which, thanks to that bitch Nabooru, might be only the Twinrova. Even in full force, it could take days for the Gerudo to sift through the ruins, perhaps only to find that his quarry was broken or otherwise useless.

By the time Ganondorf had reached the erstwhile throne room, he was growling with barely suppressed rage. Not only would he be forced to ride away empty-handed, he would also have to deal that stupid kid breathing down his neck, the considerable distance between them now greatly diminished. Glaring hatefully at his surroundings, something of interest caught his eye. At the back of the throne, a behemoth structure carved with great precision out of the earth itself, a seam traveled all the way across the edges and continued onto the floor, where it formed a square just large enough for Ganondorf's shoulders. He raised a brow. Pressing his fingers into the seams, the back of the throne separated slightly from the front. He secured his grip and heaved.

Due to his rather impressive musculature, the slab fell away as easily as if it were made of paper, cleaving in two pieces on the ground. Looking inside the square opening, Ganondorf saw a platform some feet below, and without a moment's hesitation, he jumped inside. The rough landing sent a spasm of pain through his legs, and the air carried a pungent odor that made him crinkle his nose. It smelled vaguely of fire, and as he descended the sloping staircase, sticks of dried wood cracked under his feet. Evidently, they had burned whatever was down here. Ran out of bombs, he supposed. But the extra effort had to have some purpose. He must be getting close.

Stepping out into the open space beyond the stairs, Ganondorf beheld a fairly large, high ceilinged room filled with a light haze, remnants of the former blaze. Glass crunched under his feet as he walked around, the remains of some ancient alchemy. Charred blocks of wood struck out from the floor, used to perform the necessary rites. Everything else around possessed the same level of decay, from the ashen tomes to the tarnished silver instruments and the skeleton in the corner. The skeleton wore a silvery crown that had not been eaten by time, the black stones glittering, albeit dully, in the slight glow of faraway moonlight.

Ganondorf felt a surge of triumph at the same time a lit bomb sailed over his head, plopping neatly in the skeleton's ribcage. Unconsciously, he threw up a shield in protection as nanoseconds elapsed.

KRAKOOM!

Ganondorf missed the blast, but his prize did not. The force of the explosion set several loose stones upon it, burying it with dust and stone. He turned to face his opponent, anger contorting his features. The boy answered with a defiant glare of his own.

"Well, well, if it isn't the princess's champion," sneered the Gerudo. "And just what crime have I committed to deserve the attentions of such an esteemed," he spoke this with as much as irony as he could manage, "hero?"

"You know what you did Ganondorf, now and seven years ago!" cried the boy, unsheathing his sword, which, Ganondorf fleetingly noticed, bore the royal insignia. "You tried to kill the king, burn the castle, take over Hyrule. And now you escape and take dozens more away from us! I won't stand for it."

"It was only one dozen, this time," said Ganondorf flippantly. "And they deserved it, trying to kill me."

"Stop you, Ganondorf, not kill you. They didn't deserve the violent deaths you gave them."

"As always, playing the noble hero. But I know you for what you are. You're nothing more than Zelda's pet!"

Enraged, the hero yelled and leapt upward, sword slashing down, focused yet blind. Ganondorf stepped deftly aside, and the weapon buried itself in his shadow. He clicked his tongue.

"Sloppy work," commented Ganondorf in mock disappointment as he kicked the boy away. He watched as the kid tumbled a few paces, landing face down in the dirt. As his enemy struggled to get up, gasping and grasping his stomach, he walked over to the sword and plucked it from the dirt. He took a moment to admire the craftsmanship, but a rustling movement from his foe returned him to the fight. Sword held in front of him, Ganondorf approached, resting the blade upon the boy's neck.

"Surrender before I chop your he—"

A quick flash of metal.

"…aaarrrgh!" Ganondorf stumbled back, a splintered arrow protruding from his right thigh. The hero tossed the other half to the ground and swung his elbow into Ganondorf's face, throwing the Gerudo off kilter and causing him to drop the sword. Once he could see straight, the boy had trained his blade on Ganondorf's throat. Now it was cat and mouse, the boy threatening and advancing, Ganondorf retreating and casting around for escape.

"Why don't you go ahead and do it then?" hissed Ganondorf. "You know you want to."

"No, I'm not like you. I won't kill someone who's defenseless." They were back where they started.

"Your loss." Ganondorf flicked his hand.

Dark energy exploded outward, tossing the boy away and scattering the pile of debris left from the bomb, leaving Ganondorf's treasure exposed once more. It fell onto the motionless form of the Hylian like the rest of the detritus, hanging from his ear like an absurdly large earring. Ganondorf tramped over, extinguishing the black energy still in his hand while blood pulsed angrily around the arrow still sticking from his leg, the pain hindering him a little. Picking up the crown from the prone form of the boy, he felt a shock of cold as the metal touched his naked wrist, the only spot his glove didn't cover. His eyes widened.

She created a crown, but it was hardly ordinary. Through her alchemy and metallurgy, she crafted a spell that could turn the blackest heart white and she dressed it in the fashion of the royal crown of Temuria. When she presented it at the king's coronation, neither the chief of the royal scholars nor the general of the King's army could distinguish it from the original. The prince did not even bat an eye as she placed it upon his head.

Though no one could see the crown for a replica, everyone could see its effects. At once, the harsh lines of his face softened. His cold, dead eyes blazed with warmth. His smile drew people closer instead of chasing them away. As he spoke to the masses, they wondered whether their ears were deceiving them, for his voice was rich and hearty rather than harsh and rasping.

In his surprise, Ganondorf dropped the crown, which clattered on the floor and rolled away as if driven by its own power. An odd sensation filled his body, almost a tingling or buzzing, like a million ants were trooping through his veins. It was sharp but sudden, enough to make Ganondorf wonder if he had imagined it. He shook his head trying to clear it, though of what he didn't know. Still, it was there, a weight upon his mind. The sharp sound of air being sucked in awakened him to the fact that his breathing had become ragged. What…?

A groan came from somewhere in front of him. Link was attempting to move, pushing up his body with his arms, hisses escaping from gritted teeth. A couple of times he slipped down and had to start again. Progress was slow. Staring at the injured boy, a strange thought flicked through Ganondorf's mind, and he might have missed it entirely had Link not slipped again while Ganondorf was just a couple of feet away, hand outstretched. The cold wave of realization struck as he retracted his hand.

He was numb. Watching the boy stagger to his feet, he could not force himself to strike against him—his heart twitched with pity. He could not impel himself to grab for the crown at Link's feet—he vaguely considered looking for a healer, or practicing his own limited skills. No trace of hatred existed anymore. He was stupefied.

But it wasn't until he saw a reflection of himself in Link's pale face that he truly understood the extent of his transformation.

Coming in Chapter Two: Link and Ganondorf do battle once more, and Ganondorf plans for contingencies.