A/N: Hell yeah! I'm back in business, baby! Glad to be back to the Zelda fandom!

If you took a single look at my profile, you'll see that I've been busy with Splatoon fanfics. In fact, I'm gonna release a new one soon! But, for now, I will return to my roots. Unfortunately for you guys, this chapter is gonna be a short one, because I'm so excited to continue and I didn't want to wait. Trust me, bigger and better chapters await. As well as an actual good plot. (Maybe.)

The only reason that this is out now instead of a lot later is because of Target22. I just looked at my stories' legacy stats, and I found out that he still has that story under his alerts. This one, and all the rest, are dedicated to him; he was the first person to favorite any of my stories, and-

You know what? ON WITH THE STORY!

Chapter III

Held's eyes shot open.

His vision was blurry, his head was throbbing, and his limbs needed some stretching badly; but, for some reason, he felt full of energy, almost as if he had slept for months. Trying to remember what the heck actually happened, he sat up only for pain to shoot through his back. A loud cracking noise resonated throughout what he could now see was the healer's tent, and the pain turned into relief. And then he remembered.

The blood, the scent of blood... there was so much. The smell still lingered in his nose. He wondered how many of his people had died in that battle. Nentlonelo had been an amazing soldier, and had followed his orders almost perfectly; as did the rest -wait, make that most- of his troop.

He attempted to stand up, but staggered and fell right back onto the hammock. He tried again, this time keeping a hand on the wall of the tent beside him, and managed to hold steady. Looking down at himself, he noticed the many bandages wrapped around his, well, everywhere. He must have gotten pretty badly injured...

Stepping out of the tent, the harsh desert sun hit him, full force; for the first time, he welcomed its heat and noted all the rebuilding that was happening on the whole city. Bulblins walked aroundcarrying wooden planks and poles, and many were setting up new tents. It seems they weren't completely successful in keeping the filthy Hylian bastards out.

But something was not right. It didn't feel like they had just stolen a victory; rather, the entire camp reeked of crushing defeat. And... he couldn't feel the Moonflower, either.

The Moonflower, a strange object that could reach out to anybody with its strange telekinetic powers. Anyone would feel its presence, if it were close enough. And he didn't. And suddenly, it hit him. He knew why the city was drowning in this horrible mood.

Somebody had stolen the Moonflower.

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know that it's REALLY short, but I needed to put SOMETHING out. This is just a teaser, a little note saying 'Don't worry, I haven't forgotten'.More is coming soon.

Have a good thing happen to you sometime within the next twenty years!

-Fallen