Prologue

Oh, this is a new prologue (if anybody's reading this...) For various reasons I fell behind in writing this, so I'm starting again. I'm not making any plot changes, just a lot of stylistic ones. I hope it's all for the better!

A shadow passed Link on the outside wall of the tower, disappearing around the corner. As soon as it was gone another brazier came into view, starting the race over again. Of course Link would lose this race, as he would lose all such races on his near endless climb, yet there was little else he could do to stave the monotony of his ascent. He'd long since replaced his sword and shield on his back and was even contemplating removing his gauntlets, if only to let his hands breathe a little. But Link decided to press on. He could draw his sword at a moment's notice , and even remove his shield with relative ease. Yet being caught trying to fumble with his gloves would be ludicrous. Besides, he might no longer be climbing the stairs two-by-two, but slowly and surely Link was making his way up the tower.

Far above, though not as far as he would have liked, sat Ganondorf. It goes without saying that his room was the highest of the tallest tower; but there the cliché ended. Where there should have been torches, flickering a dull-red light over everything, there instead hung efficient gas lanterns with their warm yellow glow. Where there should have been a throne sat a simple wooden chair and where there should have been monstrous servants awaiting his bidding, instead was a matching desk. Admittedly, both pieces of furniture were designed with the kind of simplicity only the rich could afford; but an observer would most likely feel cheated that the Lord of Evil say on a chair of mahogany, rather than a throne of skulls.

It was actually this break with tradition that Ganondorf was contemplating as he sat on the edge of his chair. In his hand was a golden talisman which he kept turning. And whilst his eyes seemed to study how the three golden triangles fit together to form a large one, careful observation would have revealed that his gaze was focussed beyond the Triforce. The simple fact of the matter was that he didn't have enough time. Ganondorf had already looked into the future to deduce the consequences of his actions, and there were outcomes that even the Lord of Evil found disturbing. Yet he was no barbarian, and knew well that fortune telling was only ever a balance of probabilities, rather than a concrete certainty. A sudden crash at the doors signalled that Ganondorf had run out of time. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, with the utmost care, he began to speak his wish into the Triforce.

Outside, Link was getting frustrated. The massive double oak doors leading into Ganondorf's chamber were still smouldering from his last attempt to break through. It was galling that if there had have been any magic woven into the doors, any, then Link could have dispelled it and made the doors disappear with it. After all he'd been through, he was being thwarted by something for its sheer ordinariness. He punched the wood, sending another massive echo through the tower. Some of the charcoal came off on his gauntlet, but on the whole the door remained intact. Since it was obviously going to take too long to set fire to the oak Link was left with the simple option of using his magically enhanced strength to break in. He drew his sword and, with a sigh, began to swing. Inside the chamber, Ganondorf was still seated. But instead of holding the golden triforce, his hands now clasped a leather-bound book. A black leather-bound book, for what was an evil lord without style? Leafing through the pages, Ganondorf nodded slowly in grim satisfaction. He didn't know why he had felt it necessary to create this tome, after all it changed very little, yet Ganondorf felt it was somehow necessary for someone to "understand".

It was only as a piece of wood skidded passed his foot that Ganondorf gave consideration to what his nemesis was doing. The steady thwack of steel on wood should have clued him in, but it was only by raising his head and looking at the door that Ganondorf was able to puzzle out Link's strategy. A look of mild disbelief crossed his face. Link had simply decided to play the role of lumberjack and slowly cut his way through the door. He'd already cut a hole of about three inches right through the door, and each successive blow knocked off a few more chips of wood. Ganondorf didn't understand why Link hadn't simply fired an arrow through whilst he was busy, but Link had never been renowned for his intelligence. It was tiresome. So Ganondorf waited until the most inopportune moment, when Link was just beginning to swing, and with a small magical gesture sent the doors crashing open. The results were satisfactory.

"Tell me, do you ever wonder why we have to go through all this?"

Link's eyes narrowed. He'd recovered his physical balance, only to have Ganondorf steal his mental footing. He said nothing.

"No, of course not, I forgot who I was speaking to." He sighed. "Well then, can I ask you a favour? Can you look after this book for me?" He held forth the volume. "Make sure it stays safe for as long as possible? It's quite indestructible, but of little use if it's trapped inside a mountain for the rest of eternity.

Link didn't move.

"Come, we both know who's going to win this fight; consider it a dying man's last request. Besides, I promise it would be for what you consider 'the greater good'." the condescension in Ganondorf's voice was palpable.

The two remained stock still. Ganondorf on the chair, normally far taller then Link, was now brought down lower his eye-level.

"Throw it."

"I beg your pardon?" Ganondorf's eyebrows creased.

"Throw it by my feet." Link's voice was dead level. Obviously this was something he didn't think the representative of all that was good in the would should do.