chapter one

now

Ariadne leaned against the shelves behind the bar, looking at the evening's customers. Most were the usual gruff, angry looking men who frequented the bar, but Ariadne noticed in the back was a tall man with strands of brown hair falling in his eyes. She had never seen this man; while normally someone new in the bar meant nothing, something about this one was different, strange somehow. He had a long, black trenchcoat on of some sort, and his hands were gloved in the same material. His green eyes searched his surroundings constantly, analyzing, just as she was. He was sitting in the very back of the bar, as if not wanting to be noticed.

Ariadne was interrupted from her musing when she saw a man stumble through the bar's door and slump onto the bar in front of her. He pushed himself up and leaned forward towards Ariadne, proceeding to grab her shirt and pull her in close to his face.

"Drink," he said, his voice slurring. Ariadne grimaced and punched him in the face, knocking him back slightly. A look of half-confused anger came upon the man's face and he lunged for her, attempting to punch her; however, he missed, and only managed to shatter a few bottles of ale. The man was twice her size; Ariadne knew that even she, decent when it came to combat, could not take him down herself. She dodged another of his badly aimed punches at looked out into the bar; most of its customers were so drunk they only laughed, however, the man in the black coat stood up and strode toward the front of the bar. He came up behind the man and put his arm around his throat. He then flung the man towards the floor and put a foot on his back to stop him from getting up and waited a moment. He then grabbed the man's shirt and dragged him out through the bar's door, face down. A moment later he reappeared and Ariadne eyed him, half awed, half scared.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, looking him in the eye. The man nodded curtly and returned to his spot in the back of the bar. Ariadne noted that he had no drink, and was sitting alone with simply a small bag. She saw him take a book from it and start to read.

Xander was surprised by what he did; he had been told not to make contact with the girl, and he never disobeyed orders. However, he told himself, attempting to justify his behaviours, this was different. She had been attacked by a drunk, and could have been damaged. He would want her alive, wouldn't he? He studied the girl carefully. She was tall, and had pale skin and stunning amber eyes; she wore a tan dress and a white long sleeved shirt. Her brown hair was falling in her eyes, and was tied into a long ponytail in the back. Xander didn't know whether she was a full-time barmaid or doing work for someone she knew; he certainly thought she looked too young to manage the place herself. He guessed she was somewhere between fifteen and seventeen. He saw her grab a rag and clean the mess that the drunk man had made, and then stand up and reach for a bottle behind her. She picked up a glass and poured some of the bottle's contents into it. She then came out from behind the bar and brought the drink –just as he had feared– to his small, lonely table in the back.

"As thanks," she said awkwardly and set the drink down on the table. Xander winced. He knew he had ruined the job now, making direct contact with the girl.

"Thanks," he said quietly and sipped from the drink, waiting for her to go. She bit her lip and then walked back to the front of the bar.

Ariadne watched the man sip from the drink, and saw he was almost shaking. She hoped she hadn't done something wrong by giving it to him; however, just as she wondered this, the man stood up and walked out of the bar, grabbing his bag and leaving the half-empty glass on the table. Ariadne stood, feeling guilty for scaring off the man, and walked to the back of the bar. She grabbed the glass and brought it to the front, setting it on the counter. She pondered the strange man for a moment before her thoughts were interrupted by a crash from outside. Grimacing, she ran out the bar's door to see what was happening.

Outside was a monstrous creature the size of a full grown man -maybe larger- and it looked angry. It was the scariest thing Ariadne had ever seen- a large, humanoid beast with spidery fingers and markings etched all along its body; however, it's head was a large disk-shaped atrocity with odd black tendrils extending from the back, almost like hair. It was thrashing wildly around the small alleyway the bar was situated in, knocking into the building and wrecking a few crates that had been lying there for ages. Oddly, Ariadne noted that the skin of the strange creature looked almost identical to the coat the man in the bar had been wearing… Maybe I'm just being paranoid, she thought but couldn't suppress the thought that there was something odd about the connection. As if to confirm her fears, as the creature saw her and started to charge her, the odd markings in its skin began to glow- the same startling shade of green that the man's eyes had been. This man must have been some kind of monster in disguise, and she had startled it into its true form. Ariadne screamed. She clenched her fists, preparing to fight it with her hands; however, just before the thing attacked her, it stopped and stood. Ariadne threw a punch at it and when she did, when her flesh connected with its odd, disk-shaped mask, the thing calmed. Startled, Ariadne stepped back a fraction and then felt something shaking in the satchel at her side. She opened it and saw the small, cracked and broken mirror that had apparently been her great-grandfathers shivering oddly. The outside was ornately carved from grey-blue stone and the mirror itself was shattered, but it somehow held itself together. She held it up and looked at her reflection in it despite the situation; she then let out a little gasp as she noticed in the mirror, her irises were red. She whipped around and looked in the window of the bar's door. Her eyes were their normal amber. Then she felt an almost magnetic pull toward the beast standing behind her and the mirror she held glowed bright red—with a flash of light the black and green beast was gone. She was scared now, but determined to overcome her fear, she stuffed the mirror back in her satchel and walked back into the bar.

Not ten minutes later, the man in the black coat from before entered the bar again, looking afraid. Ariadne, who had been standing in the shadows behind the counter, afraid, looked up and called out to him.

Xander looked at the girl confusedly. She looked angry; he wondered what had happened in his absence. As he studied her over carefully he noticed her left eye, covered in a shadow, had a bright red iris. Before he could remark about this she stepped out of the shadows, walked up to him, and slammed his face with her fist.

"You can get out," she growled. "I know what you are. Leave." Xander was confused but quickly backed away and ran out of the bar.

Relieved that the half-monster scumbag had left the premises, Ariadne closed the bar early. The few customers remaining left quietly and without arguing, and after Ariadne cleaned up, she left, too.

Ariadne walked out into the alleyway, then up a small set of stairs, downwards, and around two corners, until she reached the street she lived on. While there was a small danger of being attacked (or worse) by night, Ariadne was confident she could defend herself if such an occasion occurred; and so she quickly walked down the street and turned toward the side where the very small, shacklike house she lived in was placed. Pulling a small, heavy key from her satchel, she unlocked the door and entered.

Her house was very small, but it was all she could afford. It was two rooms—one with a bed, a desk, and on it, her possessions, and the other was a storage room. Though she didn't use it, she didn't complain about having extra room; it could come in handy later, she thought. She set her satchel down on the desk, cluttered with old objects and papers, and collapsed into her bed. She was asleep almost instantly.

Xander returned to the dwelling of his master immediately and informed him of the…issues. Xander knew he was a dead man as soon as he saw the angered look on his master's face.

"You spoke with her?"

"It could not be avoided. You said you wanted her alive."

"It could have been avoided. You could have left."

"That did not occur to me. I apologize." Xander felt a searing pain in his left cheek; he hadn't seen his master raise his small knife in the pitch blackness of the room. Xander had only seen his master outside of the room once; he had very dark, almost black skin, and long orange hair. There were odd markings all over his face and he wore a scratched, torn, and heavy dark brown coat with a hood. Xander knew he had many weapons concealed in the coat's inner pockets and was not surprised in the least that he had been punished.

"Some good did come of your failure, though," the deep rumbling voice of his master said. "We know now for sure what she is. And she has the mirror. You must retrieve it…or I will." His master then advanced on him.

Xander gingerly felt the bruises on his arms and face and winced as he touched the cut from his master's knife. He was walking home- a small house on the outskirts of castle town, paid for only because of the very high wages he earned for working for his deadly and dangerous master. He didn't know why he had picked this job, really; it was all odd, dodgy tasks assigned to him seemingly at random, though Xander was starting to notice a connection. All of his jobs were related, it seemed, to objects of high amounts of power. Last time it had been the legendary Tear of Din; it had been hard to track down the valuable gem, very difficult; but he was rewarded handsomely- his master had let him keep the rare gem for some reason. He had seemed unsatisfied when presented with it. And now he wanted Xander to secure the "Mirror of Twilight"; it apparently was a portal to the Twilight Realm, an alternate dimension sealed in eternal dusk. Apparently this girl had it. His master had been informed that the girl was carrying an odd, very valuable looking mirror, and upon further examination it was revealed to be the legendary mirror. Xander had no idea how he was going to gain the girl's trust again, but he would, somehow…

Ariadne woke up a few short hours later, her body aching from low quality sleep. She constantly had odd nightmares about a place with the sky a mixture of black, purple, and bloodred; tall, shapeless beings prowled among dark stone buildings, their red eyes glaring out cruelly at her. Why this nightmare persisted she didn't know, but it frequently scared her so much she woke up. She got up and walked to her desk and looked at her gathered things. She only had one picture of her mother and it was blurred- a pale yet also dark skinned woman with bright eyes. Other than that she had only drawings she made of the odd dreams she had and a small black statuette of a mask with what seemed like two horns made out of black marble. It had apparently been her parents', the only thing she had of theirs aside from the mirror she inherited. She had never been told why her parents disappeared; she was very young, and when they did, she was moved to a foster home in Kakariko Village. However, four years ago, at age 13, she left the village for Castle Town, where she made a living by doing small chores for local shops and the like. Just a year ago she was employed by Telma as a barmaid, her highest paying job yet. The past week Telma had gone on holiday in Ordon Village where she was visiting a friend who had recently given birth to a baby boy. Managing the bar was easy- Telma had given her permission to close it earlier, and was instructed generously to take all the money she earned for herself. However, not wanting to be greedy, she left some of the money for Telma despite her orders. There was a picture taken before the holiday of Ariadne and Telma folded on her desk; she picked it up and looked at it. Telma was almost like a foster mother to her. Though she didn't really admit it to herself, she was very looking forward to Telma's returning, just so she had someone to talk to. Taking the picture in her hand she climbed back into her bed, and however slowly, fell asleep.

Xander stood at the door to his house and kicked in the door with pent up frustration from his previous failure. This life was not what he had asked for when he ran away…He wanted a new, better life, free from any bonds of authority figures, living on his own skill. When he was young in Ordon Village he read all about survival in the wild; however, when he ran away at the age of 15, he learned that knowledge from books was not all there was to it. Almost immediately after he wished he was back home, sitting under the trees, watching that beautiful blonde girl and reading his book. He couldn't remember now what her name was; she always fascinated him, being tough and strong, as opposed to the other girls, all weak and trained for cooking. It was something like "knave"… Feeling as though he'd never sleep, Xander walked through the small kitchen-style room in the front of his home to the only other room, his own combination of a living room and bedroom, and threw off his coat. He then slumped down on his bed, wracking his brain about solutions to his dilemma; thinking of nothing decent after an hour he drifted off into sleep.