­I found that I liked the daylight nearly as much as I did the night. It didn't feel as much like mine, but I didn't dislike it at all. And it was much more pleasant to walk across Hyrule Field without Stalfos chasing me.

The path split, and I stopped. In one direction lay the way I had come, but the path actually led to a st of stairs cut into the mountain. The other way led to Castle Town. I watched the drawbridge fall into place, and the looked around. Which way should I go?

I considered for a moment, then decided to see what was up the stairs. I already knew what Castle Town was. So I went left and climbed the stairs. When I turned, there were more stairs, and I frowned but continued up. And then, there was a village.

It was peaceful and quiet. A windmill turned slowly. Cuccoos wandered around aimlessly. I looked around, unsure, and saw a big building at the top of the terraced village. I had learned a long time ago that big buildings were usually important buildings, and so I walked up several flights of stairs until I reached the highest level. The door opened easily, and I stepped cautiously inside.

Row upon row upon row of bookshelves lined the walls. My eyes widened, flashing red in the dim light. "A library..."

I walked between the shelves, looking at the titles on the spines. Then one book caught my eye, a heavy red volume: Peoples of Hyrule: History and Culture.

Slowly, I pulled down the book. I walked to the table and sat down, then flipped through the pages of the book. Hylians, the long-time rulers of Hyrule. The Kokiri, like Link, except Link was really Hylian. I'd heard bits and pieces about the Kokiri, which formed a rather general and fragmented knowledge of them, but I hadn't known everything, like that they couldn't leave the forest. Then the Gorons, who only ate rocks from Dodongo's Cavern; the Zora, who worshipped a fish and could stay underwater limitlessly; the Gerudo, a tribe comprised entirely of women save for one male born every hundred years; the Sheikah, red-eyed, second in magic to Hylians, and servants of the Royal Family.

I closed the book and returned it to the shelf. Then I wandered through the rows of books some more, dragging my feet.

There, a row of books which varied slightly in thickness but were all the same height and color—Creatures of Hyrule. I froze. Slowly, almost against my will, my hand rose and ran along the tops of the spines until my pale, shaking fingers touched S-Sn. I tipped the book forwards, of the shelf, and caught it in my other hand. The pages flapped, and I leaned against the shelf to stop myself from trembling so hard. I didn't even walk back to the table, just slid down to the floor and opened the blue-bound tome.

Too fast, almost fervently, I turned page after page. I almost missed the right one. My finger ran down the side of the page, and stopped at the top of an entry. I almost dropped the book. Shadow-folk.

My voice quivered slightly as I read out loud. "People conjured of shadows and dark magic. Perhaps one of the most dangerous creatures in Hyrule, because they are intelligent and can match their real twin in any kind of combat. They are physically better than Hylians, because of several alterations. They can run faster and tire slower, have natural weapons which Hylians do not, and have such advantages as night vision. However, they are susceptible to magic, and if their creator is destroyed and has left no other link to their power, the shadow will die."

I closed the book. The temperature of the library was the same, but I was suddenly very cold. I closed my eyes and let my head drop.

A creature. A creature! Nothing more than that, not even a person. The same class as cuccoos, as tektites, as dodongos. I barely even noticed as I slumped sideways. People walked down the aisle, and I stared at their feet, walking along the wall, without really seeing them. Shadows and dark magic. Evil. Dangerous. The shadow will die...

"Oh!" said a voice from above me. A pair of blue shoes appeared on the carpeted wall. I looked at the person to whom they belonged, and wondered vaguely how the young red-headed lady who was wearing them could stand sideways. "Are you alright, little boy?" she asked then, and I realized I was lying on the floor.

I sat up. "Yes'm."

"Here, why don't you come to my house," she said. "It's late, and I wouldn't want you locked in here for the night."

I was suddenly very tired. I followed her down to a small house, where dinner was sitting on the table. She served some for me as I sat down across from the other place. Then she sat down herself. "What's your name?"

I didn't reply, just poked at the meat on my plate and didn't eat any. "Is this cuccoo?"

She nodded. I didn't look at her.

After a moment, she spoke. "You have red eyes."

"I'm not Sheikah," I told her miserably. I pushed the cucco around the blue and white plate. Then, a surge of rage went through me, and I plunged the fork down into the meat so hard that the plate broke.

"Oh, dear!" cried the young lady. "What's made you so angry? It wasn't me, was it?"

"No!" I shouted. "It's HIM!" All of a sudden, I was standing up. The chair hit the ground with a bang.

There was a hesitation, a brief moment of silence as the night echoed around us. Even in the marshes it was never silent—there were wraiths that wailed, and insects whirring and clicking, and crows cawing softly. Here it was the same, though with different sounds: the creaking of the mill and the soft whisper of the wind, the cuccoos chuckling to themselves as they settled down to sleep, the crackling of the lady's fire. How could silence that wasn't really silence be so pressing? Finally, to my relief, she asked, "I-if you don't mind me asking, who is he, and why do you hate him so much?"

I laughed bitterly and humorlessly. "I'm here. Isn't that reason enough?" She looked confused, and the anger drained out of me. "Never mind." I picked up the chair and sat back down, and said calmly, "I'm sorry for breaking your plate. I don't have a name of my own, but what's yours?"

"A-Anju," she said quietly, uncertainly. She's scared of me, I thought. Does she know...or has she guessed? It may say something about me that I never thought of the other alternative: that she was afraid because I had gotten so angry, and not because I was something dangerous.

I felt sorry for her. "I'll leave, now," I said, standing up again without knocking the chair over.

"You don't need to go," she said hastily. "I was just wondering...what you meant."

"What I meant?" This time I was the confused one. "What do you mean?"

She blinked. "I don't really understand who it is you're angry at, or what it is he did to make you angry..."

"Sorcery," I said to my hands. "Sorcery and shadow." I looked at her, and considered. "That's my name. Shadow." I smiled, bitter and hopeless.

And without another word, I left.

Night fell over the village. I leaned against the cliff that bordered it, wishing I'd never come here. Then I walked out and didn't look back, because I wasn't going to think about this village anymore. As far as I was concerned, it didn't exist, and neither did the library. After all, if it didn't exist, no one could ever read the book. No one would ever know the truth. And that was what I really wanted.