Link drew Ragnarok as the monsters cascaded down the slopes, surrounding him. He was encircled in a matter of moments, the monsters jeering and calling in the throat-ripping language that was theirs. They lacked their usual haphazardness, the reckless abandon usually present in their attacks. This had been organized, Link knew, and for the first time, he began to doubt the chances of his success. Grimacing, he steeled himself. None of the monsters in his immediate vicinity moved. More kept pouring down the walls until nearly the whole gorge was filled with them, but the mass stood eerily still. They seemed to be trying to provoke him into movement. So be it, the hero thought.

Suddenly, he dashed backward, turning and cutting down four Stalfos in one blow who, thanks to Ragnarok, exploded in showers of ash. Link dashed at full speed, his left hand working furiously, dispatching any and all creatures that stood in his way. He had cleared a path to the canyon wall and, noticing that there was a Darknut with a spear behind him, he sped on. He reached the wall as the Darknut reached him; Darknuts were faster runners than Link, but once they got going, they couldn't turn or stop well. Link jumped up, taking a couple steps vertically on the wall before boosting off of it in a backflip.

As he came down, he cut the Darknut in two with Ragnarok. As the pieces ignited and fell away from each other, he was assaulted from the right by two more Stalfos, and had enough time to parry both of their swipes with his shield. Staggering, he hopped over a swing from a Soldier behind him, kicking the knight in its face before landing and cutting one of the Stalfos off at the knees. Link threw his shield up just in time to catch a chop aimed for his neck, and the strength of the blow sent him back a few feet, where he was tripped by a Darknut. Landing, he rolled immediately to his left, and a Stalfos' sword stuck into the ground where his heart had been. He lifted his feet and managed to roll backwards as the Darknut's heavy sword came down where his hips had been, shattering the Stalfos that had been attacking him. Recovering from his roll, he was thrown forward by the foot of a Soldier, and another Stalfos in front of him thrust its sword out, intending to impale him on the blade. Link managed to twist to his left, parrying the thrust with his shield and, still spinning, he took off the Stalfos' head with the return stroke.

The Stalfos was immediately replaced by a Darknut who swung his heavy blade in an uppercut. Link's shield met the blade, but the force of the strike lifted Link into the air. Time seemed to slow as the hero turned a backflip, surveying the situation below him. There were so many, and expertly trained. They all followed him with eyes glowing black. No, not trained; they were controlled by a single mind. Calmly, Link focused on the power of Ragnarok, letting the blade's energy fill him. With the power of Din coursing through his body to the point where he felt like exploding, he seemed to hang in the air for a split-second, glowing as the surrounding area darkened, the light seemingly being absorbed by the hero. The energy was focused into his shield, held downward, and his eyes flicked open. Faster than the monsters' eyes could see, the Hylian boy streaked down into the center of the mass shield-first, transferring the energy into the earth in the split second it took him to reach it, and there was a massive explosion, incinerating all of the monsters that had been within thirty feet of him.

Calmly, Link looked up, and his heart sank. He had only taken out around a hundred or so of them, and there were still twice that many left. A bare fifth of those remaining were on fire from the explosion, dying, but that still left too many to deal with.

Standing, Link settled into his fighting stance. He had come through the south gate of Kakariko, and had fought toward the north gate. It lay about a hundred yards to his right now, but he knew he could never make it; the Darknuts with spears would overtake him halfway there. It still left him better odds, but Darknuts in a group of their own were much more dangerous than this mismatched horde that confronted him now.

As if on cue, the line of monsters began to charge him. Link braced himself for the attacks he knew would be coming. He knew he had to escape, or he would die, but he was not used to running, and didn't know how to formulate an escape strategy. He met the charge stoically, blocking a chop from a Soldier while sidestepping the same from a Darknut. He side kicked the Soldier, sending it sprawling, and parried a thrust from a Stalfos with his sword, bashing its skull in with his shield. Without hesitation, he continued on, sidestepping another chop from a Darknut and kicking a Soldier's knee in. A Stalfos leapt over the fray, holding its sword downward, and with his Golden Gauntlets, Link heaved the Soldier upward, intercepting the Stalfos' sword pogo and throwing the evil skeleton off target.

The Darknut swung downward again, and Link dodged, spinning to his right and bashing another Soldier in the face with his shield with such force that the knight's face, visor and all, caved in with a sickening crunch. The hero hopped a low swing from a second Darknut, running up the first's sword and taking its head off as he jumped off its shoulder. He sailed through the air, planting his blade in a Soldier's chest as he landed. Ripping the blade out, he used it to parry a Stalfos' swing with such force that the skeleton's sword snapped in two. Link reached back with his shield hand, grasping the tanto at his back, and with a lightning motion, zigzagged it across the skeleton warrior five times, returning it to its sheathe as the monster fell apart.

He didn't know how long he fought. He just fought. The adrenaline in his veins was nearly endless, due to the power of Farore, the power of the Triforce of Courage. Monsters fell apart and disintegrated, depending on what weapon Link felt like wielding. The horde was becoming smaller, but adrenaline or no, the hero was tiring. His movements were slowing, becoming almost clumsy. He began taking hits, just scratches and bruises, but they began to hinder his performance. He fought on until a Soldier got lucky, awarding Link a gash in his thigh that distracted him enough to take his eyes off the Darknut to his right. The heavy brute swung the gigantic sword with both hands, and the boy was only able to throw his shield up.

The impact smashed the shield into his side as his feet left the ground, and his forehead hit the edge as he flew end over end through the crowd of monsters. He smashed into a Stalfos upon landing, tumbling and bouncing across the broken bones to collapse in a heap, face down. As the enemies hooted and hollered in their guttural tongue, the boy's vision swam. The ground shook against his face as the Darknut closed in on him holding its sword up, savoring the moment. The hero could not move. Link closed his eyes, waiting. He did not fear death. He welcomed it. With death, there would be no pain, no worry. While he would not volunteer for its cold embrace, since there were always people who could benefit from his protection, the chance for the final rest it provided was almost relieving.

He looked up, wondering why he hadn't been struck, and the Darknut's head disappeared in a streak with a spray of putrid blood. The monsters all looked behind Link, cursing and jeering in their harsh language. They seemed to ignore him altogether as a new threat presented itself. Link could not turn, could not move; he had lost too much blood. He knew he needed to remain still if he was to survive. Despite this personal admonition, the boy felt his head jerk upward as bodies of monsters, seven or eight at a time, flew through the air over him. A boot appeared next to his face, and the other landed a couple feet away. The figure took off toward the retreating wall of monsters, taking no mercy.

The figure held a short version of a rapier in his left hand, and his right held a one handed miniature claymore. The mini claymore was about half a foot shorter than Ragnarok, but the being that wielded it seemed to be able to close the distance with ease. His left hand sword, about an inch or two longer than Ragnarok but much thinner, was a blur, parrying and stabbing while the right hand sword separated limbs and heads from bodies. The figure was a whirling field of death. Pieces of monsters flew through the air, some of them landing near Link, who watched intently, absorbing some of this new fighter's technique. He seemed to utilize short hops and spinning aerial maneuvers as the baseline of his offense, transitioning occasionally to a crouching stance that moved him through the enemy ranks like a hot knife through butter. The fighter had a neutral stance that he seemed to transition to whenever there was only one enemy facing him, in which he sheathed the mini claymore and switched the rapier-like sword to his right hand. It was a combination of fencing and a foreign art Link had never witnessed himself.

The monsters' stupor finally began to fade, and the ranks suddenly fell into disarray as the force controlling them suddenly abated. Turning, they ran like the cowards they normally were.

The figure appeared next to Link, pushing him onto his back. Link raised a hand in protest, but the figure took no notice, smearing a salve over the gash in his thigh, and bandaging it tightly. The figure sat back, and for the first time, Link was able to get a good look at him. He had a young face, probably around Link's own age. His hair was brown, done in thick, sagging spikes. His ears were small and round, so he was not Hylian, but human. The other boy had amber eyes, unlike Link's water-blue. The boy's clothing was different from his own, as well; where Link had chosen a traditional green tunic and cap, the boy wore a brown vest atop straight, earthy trousers, which were tucked into the buckled boots Link had seen step over him. There was something oddly familiar about those boots…

"I know you, you know." The figure spoke in an even tone.

Link frowned.

"No," the boy said, reading his thoughts. "You wouldn't recognize me. We've never officially met." The figure paused. "Like you, I was brought up by a tribe that was not my own." When Link's frown changed to a curious one, he continued. "I was brought up by the Sheikah."

At the mention of the tribe of protectors, Link was reminded of Zelda's mysterious alter-ego, who was named after the tribe itself. Link nodded. That was where the fighter's speed and skill had come from. But his fighting style was his own; the Sheikah were masters of the shadow – they preferred to strike quickly and silently, and were partial to single targets as opposed to the horde this boy had just faced.

The figure sat back, and Link followed his gaze. The volcano had loosed a small cloud of dust, and fallen silent again. Suddenly, the figure broke the silence again.

"Well, that should do it."

Before Link could twitch, the figure ripped the tourniquet off, exposing smooth flesh, as if the blade had never scored it. Link frowned in confusion.

"The salve is made from Einlar root and glow worm sap," the figure explained, patching Link's leggings. "It's a miracle regrowth serum, but its worst downfall is that it only works if you're not thinking about it. Some nonsense about blood flow awareness." The figure shrugged. "So I distracted you."

Link nodded, rising to a standing position. The leg worked fine, and there was no memory of the metal that had bit into his thigh. Link glanced toward the figure, who grinned.

"Good as new," he told the hero, and Link nodded appreciatively, bending to retrieve his sword.

As the blade pulsed, the figure stepped back.

"Light of the Triforce!" He exclaimed. "Is that Ragnarok?"

At Link's nod, the figure whistled in appreciation.

"I was wondering what caused that explosion," he muttered. "They say that sword can out-power even the Master Sword."

Link sheathed the powerful blade, and the two of them set about searching the ruins of Kakariko. The purifying fire of Ragnarok had doused the black flames, so only wickedly charred remains were left.

After about ten minutes, the two fighters met back in the center of town.

"Did you find anyone?" the figure inquired.

Link shook his head, still peering around.

The other fighter sighed. "Me neither." After a quick glance around, he added, "I kinda want to leave this place. It feels… oily."

Without a word, Link led the way to the south gate. Upon arrival, the two were taken aback by the sight; there were bodies of monsters everywhere, blood soaking the ground past the gate, which had been smashed open. And in the middle of the chaos stood Akrir.

The other fighter stood, rooted to his spot, while Link walked forward, features splitting into a wide grin. The hero laughed, the first sound the Sheikah-trained fighter had heard escape his throat. Catching up to Link, the fighter frowned.

"Your horse did this?"

At the statement, Akrir gave an annoyed snort, and without looking, crushed a Stalfos skull under his front hoof.

The fighter nodded, grinning. "I like this horse."

They decided to journey to the Castle, to seek an audience with His Majesty. The royal family, stubborn as they could be, needed to be informed of these dire events. Link rode Akrir alone, his comrade astoundingly keeping pace a scant few yards behind. Link frowned. How was that possible? At their pace, they reached the Castle Town in a little over twenty minutes. Once there, the fighter crouched, regaining his breath. Link signaled Akrir to stay outside the town, earning an irritated squint and a low grunt from the horse. The fighters continued into the town.

Pushing through the crowd, they arrived at the castle gates, where they were stopped by the guards.

"You!" one of the guards pointed at Link. "How dare you show your face here?"

"Let us pass," the other fighter ordered.

"And who are you to issue such an order?" The other guard sneered.

The figure drew a medallion out of his vest, holding it up to the light, and the guards gasped, bowing apologetically.

"Master Miles," one guard stammered, "we meant no disrespect, but His Majesty the King has ordered that Link shall not pass these gates."

Link stared. Miles? He'd heard the name before, but the face did not fit. He waved the warrior on, signaling that he was content to remain outside the gates.

"Is there any way I might speak with His Majesty?" the boy inquired.

The two guards exchanged glances. "The King has taken ill," they explained. "The public has not seen him since the declaration of outlaw against the Hylian."

"Ill or not, the King's word is law," Miles declared. "I will go in alone." Before entering the now open gates, Miles turned to the two guards.

"Law or not, see that no-one bothers this man while I am gone."

"Yes, milord." The guards bowed. The gates shut behind the mysterious fighter.

Notes from HylianShield: Ah, the sweet success of an awesome battle... well, at least I think so. lol. I tend to get a bit carried away in the action, so the fight scenes' text tends to bunch up a bit (I actually chopped the whole fight paragraph into like 7 or 8 different paragraphs here to make it easier... it reads better in Microsoft Word, believe me), but I'll just say this... If you liked this fight scene... heh heh. Tip of the iceberg, my friend. Tip of the iceberg.