Link
The castle was all but asleep by the time they arrived home and the moon raised high by the time the rest returned. The walk home had been long, drawn-out, and deliberate; the same thoughts disturbing the minds of every single person. It was funny, they rushed to that horrific scene with all the frantic haste of hyena fighting to get to the meat before someone else beat them to it, but they crawled away from it like they couldn't bear to leave. To Link, it should have been the opposite.
Link lingered awhile in the main yard where he tried to gather his thoughts. He had seen some sick and twisted things in his time, but none that seemed filled with such deliberate indifference. The complete disregard for the lives of those people sent a shiver up his spine like a snake. He tried his best to figure it all out as he stood brushing down his horse.
He glanced wearily around the yard that was the main calling point for all the hustle and bustle of the castle. There were stuffed, wooden men on sticks at one end where men would practice their skills and boys would play with wooden swords pretending to be knights; the sons of knights and servants, of guards or of the lords and ladies that frequented the palace. There were wooden targets where men could hone their skills with a bow or crossbow running along one of the walls and a huge door leading off to the armoury sat barred and locked. The stable found itself to the right side of the great arch that was the rear exit to the castle. The portcullis was down and the drawbridge up for the night, but the guards of the gate stood atop the parapet, looking for any approach. The castle forge sat at the back of the yard, silent and open, like a huge black mouth ready to swallow any that came near. The practice areas and the stable alike were littered with straw and sawdust but the main way was kept clear by stable-hands and other servants that worked the area by day.
Link stood outside the stable with the horse they had given him, who was drinking from a trough filled with water. He was a great big thing, with a deceptive black coat that shone a deep auburn in the sunlight. Link hadn't yet named him, found he was no good at that sort of thing, and the stable-master had named none of them. It was customary for a man in the kingdom of Hyrule to name his own steed when it was to be used for battle. That connection between rider and mount was seen to be a bond that made them ride as one; the horse was an extension of the man, to be used in battle as a sword or axe or any other weapon might. And it was true. Many a horse he had seen seemed to reflect the man who rode it with a terrifying accuracy.
But when Link saw this horse, his mind conjured images of nothing. This horse was a fine specimen indeed and rode the land as if he had known it all his life, but he saw nothing of himself in it. This was not his horse. He had lost the right to name any animal his a long time ago and remembered the day he had to give up the life of his truest companion. Driven mad with fear and solitude she had begun to canter around the woods frantically and there was nothing he could do to help her. Whatever images plagued her existence, Link knew she didn't understand and when he tried to restrain her she had only hurt herself in her madness. He could not ride her, could not touch her, and felt a pang of guilt every time he looked at her. Foam at the mouth and tears in her eyes, she became a shadow of herself, shrunken and pale, and seemed barely able to recognise the man Link had become. He took his sword to her that night.
Perhaps then, he thought, this made this horse more right for him than ever. He didn't know who he was anymore, and he saw nothing in this animal. Link contemplated that as he brushed him down gently. The wind swirled about him, rattling unidentifiable objects that hung from shadows. His hat blew behind his head wildly and the hay rustled gently against the wall.
Fetching a bag of oats for the horse, Link fixed it to his nose and spoke softly to it. He gazed up at the guards on the gate; silhouetted against the flame they had lit to bring them warmth. It was late spring when Link had left and now autumn was spreading its red fingers across the land, like a poison in the blood turning the flesh a deep red before leaving nothing but the bare bones as a reminder of what was once there. He supposed it was fitting; he had missed a part of his life just as he had missed the season where his friends had grown, thrived, and now all he felt was a great heavy sense that he was dying here.
Link heard the creak of hinges somewhere on the opposite side of the courtyard and peered into the night. The light of a torch hid the face of the bearer as they made their approach. When the figure approached Link knew the shape as the boy they had sent to squire for him. The boy's name turned out to be Sam Linder and was apparently was General Linder's nephew. He clumsily carried a tray with a flagon and a mug and some bread and cheese sitting on top. Link reached out and took it from the boy with half a smile. He placed the torch in a brazier on one of the beams of the open part of the stable.
He was an odd thing this Sam, always smiling and far too loud with an unusual courtesy. "M'lady said I should see you got food, sir," he beamed, freckles dancing as he scrunched up his face to smile.
"Thank you," Link replied, putting the tray on a beam and sniffing at the jug. The wine was strong, heated and rather fruity – not to his taste – but Link took a swallow anyway. It warmed his belly nicely.
"I heard you found all these dead people up at the river," the boy stated.
Link was shocked. "Where did you hear that?"
The boy just shrugged and smiled once again. "I don't know I heard my uncle talking about it when he got back and was talking to the king."
Link just laughed and shook his head. The boy played with the sleeves of his top and swung his arms back and forth; a child still, really, but not stupid. "Here," Link lifted up the cup and poured the boy some wine. "It's cold." The boy took the cup and swallowed a mouthful, smiling once again. "Help yourself, I'm not really hungry."
Sam stooped and scooped up a piece of bread and shovelled it into his mouth. Link watched with a mild fascination. The boy did nothing by halves. Everything he did was so enthusiastic that Link couldn't help but smile when he watched him. It might not be so bad having a squire after all.
Link stood and stretched. "Come on," he said. "Maybe we should just go inside." He went to the horse and led it inside the stables by the nosebag. When he had seen the animal was in he removed the nosebag and began to hang it with the rest of them. The horse whickered and stomped his hoof on the ground and then against the door. Link turned and looked at the animal, puzzled. "It's okay, you can have more tomorrow" he began to tell it when he noticed the flicker of light to his left. "Sam?" The boy was standing in the doorway with the torch. Link took a step towards him. "Are you ready to go," he asked. The horse stamped once again, and the others joined him. "Put that away you're scaring the horses."
"Is that all you care about," the boy screeched and threw the torch at the hay against the wall. The hay immediately caught fire as Link watched, taken aback, and then the boy fell in front of it.
Link cursed as the cloth of his trousers caught fire so he dragged the boy outside. He grabbed a bucket from beside the wall, filled it up from the trough of water and splashed the boy's leg. He cursed again as he ran inside to try and douse the flame. The wall of the stall nearest to the hay had caught fire, but luckily there was no horse in it. Screw it, Link thought, ran outside and dragged the trough inside with all his strength. He splashed the wall with the bucket before he kicked over the trough, spilling the water and drenching the hay. Link let out a frantic breath and stood for a moment before remembering the boy and scrambling outside.
Sam was unconscious and one of the guards from the gate was kneeling over him. He must have heard the commotion. "Is he alright," Link asked as he knelt beside him too.
"Well he's alive," the guard said. "But what the hell happened?"
Link shook his head, still breathing deeply. "I don't know," Link began, but before he could say anymore they heard a shriek coming from inside the castle.
Hyrule Castle
Vernon hummed a nameless tune as he scrubbed down his kitchen. Every now and then he would clear his throat and begin anew. The worktops were chunky and wooden, and showed the slightly battered results of a lifetime of use. As far as he was concerned they were still in prime condition and so long as they were treated well he would hear nothing of them being replaced. Some parts showed it worse than others; the parts where meat was prepared raw had darker brown patches where blood had gradually stained them, and the parts where something hot had been set down had faint charred circles. Not to mention the scars from the chops and slices of daily use.
He liked to keep the damage to a minimum, which was why he cleaned them himself. He trusted the others enough to work with them, sure, even though it wasn't the first time he'd hit someone with a pot for some neglectful damage. But when it came to this part, after the main lot had been cleared, he preferred to do it alone. In all honesty, he liked the quiet. For a few hours he got to listen to nought but his own thoughts and they were loud enough as far as he was concerned.
The days had begun to tire him. Almost every day he would be up before half the castle and would go down after more than that. He was a hard worker, always had been, but he wasn't as young as he used to be and of late had begun to contemplate staying in bed an extra hour here and there. Then he thought of the incompetents he had been left with and laughed the thought out of his mind.
Still he probably could drop a few of the tasks he carried out. It wasn't his responsibility, but he would check on the farming of the domestic animals they had on the grounds and always butchered them himself, though he would leave the hunting to the lords or the gamekeeper. He would also accompany the wagons once a week as they went for produce and collected the foodstuff that they could not grow or rear around the castle. He refused to allow something as silly as chance to become involved in anything to do with the food that came through his kitchen, so preferred to oversee everything. That way, his own arse was covered if anything should go wrong.
Vernon heard footsteps coming down the stairs at the end of the kitchen. The sounds were heightened in the silence. It was funny how the sounds a man noticed at night were nothing like those noticed during the day. The sizzle of oil and the hiss of water evaporating were replaced at night by the sighs of the great wooden rafters and the laughs of the serving girls above; sounds otherwise masked by the hustle of kitchen life.
He stopped and stared at the entrance with a raised eyebrow as a figure came through the flickering shadows, and was surprised at who emerged. "Your Majesty…" Vernon said, half in questioning.
"Vernon," the king said in reply, "I hope I'm not disturbing you?"
"No." He said curtly, though not impolitely. "Just what can I do for ye, sir? I've just about finished here for the night, if it's food you're after?"
"Oh, no sir," the king replied. "Just a few moments of your company will suffice."
"Aye?" Vernon didn't kid himself that he didn't find it strange.
"I suppose I just had to get away from it all for a minute." The king explained. "I couldn't really sleep tonight."
"Seems ever body comes down here to run away these days," he said, thinking of young Adam, who had done the same the other day.
"This damnable situation in the south," Daphnes sighed, rubbing his neck through the collar of his robes. "You have no idea what it's like trying to keep on top of things."
Vernon just snorted. "You try running things down here. Especially on one o' yer banquet evenings, as if I have the staff!" He thought perhaps he might have spoken out of turn so he added, "Wi' all due respect o' course, sir"
The king merely laughed. "I imagine you're right. You did an admirable job, once again and you have our thanks."
"Aye…" Vernon said, not ungratefully.
"To be honest, I hadn't expected to find you here," the king admitted. "You still clean this place personally? Don't you have people for that?"
"That bunch o' worthless twats?" Vernon sniffed. "I wouldn't trust 'em to spit shine my shoes. No, I think I'll be keeping my kitchen clean."
The king laughed again. "You're unhappy with your staff?"
"Oh, no," Vernon dismissed. "'S'naught like that. You know how it is though…if you can do it yourself…"
"Aye, true enough," the king agreed.
Vernon walked to the sink, grabbed another cloth and plopped it down before the king. "Well if you're going to just stand about there, you might as well make yourself useful."
The king looked at the cloth then at Vernon. He smiled wryly as he rolled up his sleeve and grabbed the cloth. Vernon placed a bowl of scalding hot water between them and continued on with the cleaning. He and the king stood wiping down the wood for a few moments with nothing but the sound of Vernon's humming to break the silence.
It was the king that eventually spoke. "It's somewhat relaxing actually."
"It is, aye," Vernon agreed.
The king continued almost wistfully. "I like the fact that, no matter what happens during the day; you can simply wipe it all down and start afresh tomorrow."
Vernon thought on that for a moment. He supposed the king had the right of it.
"Not like running a kingdom," he sighed. "No one thinks to wipe the slate clean or start afresh. Their problems merely linger, and fester, until…"
"Aye," Vernon interrupted and the king seemed to snap back to attention.
His face brightened. "There's really nothing like it, working with ones hands," Daphnes smiled through his bushy beard. "I remember I used to carve little Zelda the most darling little toys."
"Really?" Vernon said, slightly surprised at the fact.
"Oh yes," the king assured him. "Carving, now there's something I used to really enjoy. You know I carved the thrones that my wife and I would…" He stopped and played with the cloth for a minute, rubbing it between his finger and thumb. "There's not a thing in our bedchambers I didn't make for her."
"A true craftsman," Vernon piped up encouragingly, "That's what we like to hear. Now that's true art, it is. Why did you stop?"
"Oh, you know how these things go," the king replied. "You never find time to do the…" He was cut of by the faint sound of glass smashing.
Vernon turned and looked in the direction of the noise. "Now what the hell…"
A figure came out of the store room just off the entrance to the kitchen. Vernon squinted in the dim light to see who it was. "Ellie," he asked the figure, who was stooped to pick up the glass. "What are you doing there girl?"
The girl seemed slightly startled and jumped up quickly. "S-sorry sir," the serving girl started then the king drew up behind him. "Oh," Ellie gasped and half bowed, half curtseyed in a clumsy fashion. "Your Majesty."
The king waved off her formality. "There's no need for…" he began then noticed the same thing Vernon had. "You're hurt." Where the girl had clutched her dress she had left behind a red handprint.
Ellie obviously hadn't noticed and pulled her hand up to inspect it. "Oh, I…"
The king walked over and took her hand to have a look at it. "I don't think it's too bad," he told her with a warm smile. The girl merely blushed. "Though I think Vernon has a spare cloth he can used to bandage you up 'til we get you seen to, hmm," Daphnes glanced at Vernon. "Vernon, if you would."
Remembering himself, Vernon nodded and walked to a drawer on a large dresser on the edge of the kitchen. Pulling out a fresh dish cloth he threw it to the king.
"There we go," the king said. The girl had been smiling shyly until the king pulled her hand up to begin wrapping it. Vernon watched her face drop and her eyes glaze over as she pulled her hand back brusquely.
Before he could protest the girl shrieked at him. "Don't you dare touch me," and she slapped him with her bloody hand, staining his face and his beard, before collapsing in his arms.
Vernon and the king exchanged a bewildered expression. Before either of them could speak however, they heard the most ear-piercing scream come from above.
Infirmary
Amy pushed the heavy doors of the infirmary open with a groan. It was getting late, and for some reason she was finding it hard to sleep. She hoped there was something a nurse could give her that would help; she seemed to recall Link being given some sort of concoction or brew on their first night there. Amy had no problem sleeping that night. It was the first night of peace she had had, but for some reason tonight was different.
The nurse was busy with someone when she entered. She was on her tiptoes dabbing at the eye of a young man who was about a head taller than her, and he winced at the pain. Amy noticed it was the boy she had seen with Adam this morning. He was dressed more plainly than earlier but she knew it was him. The nurse was telling him it was healing well but Amy drifted off as she glanced around the small hospital.
'Small' was in fact a false first impression. Beyond the narrow entranceway it opened up to about the size of a tennis court, partitioned off in places by various screens and tables, effectively separating it into little wards. It smelled like any hospital she had ever been in, perhaps more so, and it made her smile.
There was a young woman sitting in the back, watching the nurse and Hector with wide bewildered eyes. Her skin was tanned and her hair was like a flame, and she had to be the most beautiful woman Amy had ever seen. Sitting in the entranceway on a bench that she had not noticed when she first entered was a boy. "Oh," Amy muttered and smiled at him. "Hello," Amy said and sat beside him. The boy smiled back looking rather abashed.
He had medium length dirty blond hair and rather precise and delicate features. His nose was small and his ears matched, though they stuck out through his hair and came to points like Link. She had to admit he was altogether quite charming as he sat and chewed his lip nervously. "Hello," he muttered.
The boy looked her up and down as she stared at him. He looked away and almost smiled as Amy laughed to herself. After a minute of near silence Amy spoke out. "You're that boy Adam brought home from town, aren't you?"
"Kidnapped you mean," He said, almost joking.
"I suppose so, yeah," Amy said. "I'm Amy…" she held out her hand.
He took her fingers and gave them a slight shake. "Haydn…"
"That's a nice name," she said.
"Is it?" He asked.
"So who's that girl over there?" Amy asked leaning over and speaking quietly.
Haydn looked over at the girl with the red hair and shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "But she's been in here for ages."
"She's beautiful," Amy said, still leaning over him.
"Is she?" Haydn said, looking down at her.
Amy could have almost blushed, if she did that sort of thing. Instead, she just smiled and sat up. "Why are you here?"
The boy just looked across at the other wall. "I can't sleep," he muttered.
"Me neither," Amy said. "It's weird."
Haydn shrugged once more. "I dunno I don't really sleep very well…" he said. "And I ran out of potions."
"Oh?" Amy said. "I thought I'd try that as well." Haydn nodded. "Do they work?"
Hector passed by them and raised an eyebrow at Amy as he left. The nurse smiled at them but began busying herself with cleaning up after treating his wounds. "I guess so," Haydn said. "I mean you don't dream…and you don't know you've slept…but it's the only thing that helps me sleep."
"Why can't you sleep?" Amy asked, curious, she had no reason herself.
The boy seemed to think about it for a while. "I don't know really," he finally said. "I guess there's just too much going on in my head…" Amy had had nights like that. Nights where her mind was so preoccupied with something that she was unable to sleep. "Before I came here," Haydn continued, surprising her. "I barely slept at all…"
Just then, the nurse approached. Her garb was grey, with a white apron and she had her dark black hair tied up in a bun. She wore a hat over her hair that reminded Amy of a stereotypical ancient nurse and it almost made her laugh out loud. She was not young, with soft green eyes that wrinkled at the edges when she smiled, yet nor was she old. She almost reminded her of her mother, were it not for the ears that came to points at the side of her head. She knew she would get used to that eventually. The nurse looked at Haydn and smiled, her tone was gentle and sympathetic. "I suppose I know why you're here." The boy looked at his feet as if he had done something wrong. "Master Adam told me not to give you any more after you finished the last lot."
"Please," Haydn said. "I just want to sleep."
The nurse smiled that warm smile again. "I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "But he'd have my head if I gave you more. Besides, it's not good for you to keep taking them, you know, without good reason. Too much of one thing is never a good idea."
Haydn stood. "Please," he tried. "I need them…it just hurts otherwise."
The nurse looked down at Amy where she sat. Slowly Amy got to her feet. "Hey, it's okay…" The boy turned to her, his brow furrowed and his pale cheeks reddening. He looked like he might get angry for a second but his features simply softened and he seemed to concede. "Come on," Amy took him by the shoulder and urged him out. "We'll go be tired together somewhere."
"Why would he tell them not to give me any?" He said when they were out in the hallway.
But Amy had no answer for him. She didn't know Adam at all. "I guess he knows what he's doing…" She was about to suggest that they go get some food when they heard a scream come from somewhere down the hall.
"What the hell?" Amy asked, and the nurse came out behind them. The three looked at each other before setting off in the direction of the scream. They reached the staircase that led down to the main entranceway of the inner part of the palace and found a woman sitting against the wall at the top of the stairs.
She had a nasty red mark on her cheek and the sleeve of her dress was torn at the shoulder. The nurse tilted the woman's head back to look at it and she began muttering. She pointed at the stairs frantically.
Amy ran over to the stairs and peered over the edge, recoiling in disgust. At the bottom a man lay on his chest, his head at an awkward angle where he had obviously broken it in the fall. Haydn came up beside her and peered down the stairs as well. She saw in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing as her.
The doors at the back of the hall opened and in walked Link and some guards. The guards were carrying a boy and Link was aiding a man that was holding his side; both were covered in blood. They stopped dead as they saw the man at the bottom of the stairs and stared up at Amy.
"By the gods." The nurse came running past them and headed in the direction of the stabbed man. She began to examine the wound, all the while attempting to stop the bleeding. The man had gone white as a ghost as he lay in the hall dying.
Link ran up the stairs and took Amy by the hand. "Amy, are you okay?" he asked but she didn't get the chance to answer.
At the other end of the foyer, from atop the identical stairs, the king and a burly man with a moustache that Amy didn't know came through the doors. The man carried a young serving girl while the king helped a woman that could barely stand. They stopped at the top of the stairs and surveyed the scene below them, almost as shocked as Amy was. They all had obviously been heading to the infirmary.
The king immediately sat the woman down and ran down the carpeted stairs to the foyer. Link dragged Amy by the hand and went to meet him. "What in the name of all that is holy is going on here?" The king demanded. Link was as lost for words as he and looked to Amy who could only shrug.
As if things could get no worse, General Linder came in through the large front doors holding his left hand, or what was left of it. Someone had taken the liberty of removing the last two fingers and he was covered in blood. He had with him three of his own men, one sporting four arrows in his back being held up by another. The third seemed unharmed as he slammed the doors shut behind them. The governor seemed to notice the boy that the guards Link entered with had carried in and ran to his side. "Sam!" He yelled, barely acknowledging the king and the others.
The king grabbed the first guard he saw and yelled in his face. "Don't just stand there man, go and wake every nurse, doctor or healer in the damn castle, or do you expect this one woman to tend to us all?" He turned to Link and Amy without waiting for a response and looked at them frantically. "Has the place gone completely mad," he said. "What in the world is going on here?"
Zelda
By the time everything had calmed down, the sky was beginning to lighten as the sun prepared to bring forth a new day. Zelda herself was sporting a bright red cheek that felt like it was reddening by the minute, and a knife wound to the palm where she had caught the blade her own guard had turned on her. The princess sat on a large wooden framed couch with soft red velvet cushions that had a home near the large fireplace in one of the larger guests' quarters – because that's where Link and the others were living. She didn't feel safe leaving their sight at the minute.
Gathered around her, seeking the safe warmth of the fire, were Adam, Link and Amy. Her father stood at the back of the room, gazing out the window and Linder sat by the bed watching his nephew sleep. Amy curled up beside Link, who merely sat gazing into the flames that flicked forth from the fireplace every now and then with a hiss or a pop. She could see the comfort they brought each other; they had obviously shared something together she might never understand. She wished she could feel it. She couldn't help noticing the void around her.
Adam must have sensed her longing, or perhaps he just needed some comfort himself, for he stood and gently sat down beside her. He pulled her close and kissed her lightly on the forehead. When she returned to her repose Adam lifted her hand to have a look at the wound. He never spoke, but he smiled as he traced a circle around the outside of her palm, being careful as to be tender for the wound still felt raw despite the dressing. Zelda smiled warmly back at him. She loved him like a brother and these past years they had grown to be great friends as well as allies. She knew she had sent her best friend away with her blessing, but she never stopped missing him. And despite having known Adam from the time before, it took Zelda a while to begin to trust him, this son of her greatest enemy. She never could have known they would share as much as they had, not only in their missing Link. After all, he had gained a friend in the middle of it all as well and lost him almost as quickly as she had.
Noticing Link's gaze now, he was watching them with a faint smile, Zelda took her hand back and Adam turned and rested his back against the chair. Still no one spoke. A few cautious glances made their way around the room but vanished when the threat that something must follow arose. It seemed as if they had no words of comfort to give each other. But then how could they? They were strangers these people; sitting across the great chasm that had sprung up between them when they weren't looking. They had looked away for a second when they were children, allowing themselves to walk on either side of the stream with nothing but their fingertips to remind them that they were still there. But now, when they looked up, they found the stream had become a great river and their fingertips a memory they only thought they felt. When had they separated? It still felt as if they were connected but from the look in his eyes, Zelda could tell he knew it too. They were no longer friends.
Just then there was a faint knock at the door. All eyes turned to watch to see who might enter but it never opened. Zelda cleared her throat and spoke. "Come in," she said, breaking the silence for the first time, her voice raw and broken. The door crept open just enough for a head to shyly pop around the corner. It was a boy she didn't recognise, with pale dirty blond hair and the most nervous of expressions.
She might not recognise him, but Adam obviously did for he sat up immediately and smiled warmly at him. "Oh," he said. "Hello."
"Hi…" the boy said, entering the room fully for the first time. He held onto the door as though he might dart out at any second. He gave a gentle wave to Amy and Link who both greeted him softly as well.
Zelda watched as Adam rose and walked to the door. "Come in," he spoke gently, for the room was still held in its precarious silence. No one took their eyes off the boy, and she could tell he was aware of it. Adam took the door and closed it gently. "Are you okay?" he asked and embraced him. He still looked a child, not much older than Amy, perhaps.
He seemed to warm up a little. "I guess so," he glanced nervously at Zelda. "That was pretty crazy…"
"Come on," Adam replied. "Sit with me, sit with us."
Adam introduced the boy as Haydn, and Zelda recalled briefly seeing him the night she and the sages… He sat beside Adam, whom he seemed most comfortable with, but gazed across at Link and Amy noticeably frequently.
Who would have known it would have taken another stranger to get them all to open up. As the boy seemed to grow in comfort, so too did Zelda's own unease disappear. It seemed Haydn alone was enough to talk about and before long they were talking about themselves, and their situation.
"If we think about it," Adam was saying. "Ever since you got back, Link, we haven't even had a minute to process this…the situation. I mean, it has been non stop."
Link nodded with a look of worried realisation. "The Sages said it might be related to me," he asked. "I mean to me coming home. Do you think that could be true?"
Adam looked as though he had been asked to explain why rain fell down instead of up. "Like some sort of aftershock from the magical fallout? Well, I…suppose it could be. It's not unheard of."
"I suppose it's a moment of vulnerability," Zelda chimed in. "It's a classic tactical move that time and time again almost never fails to work."
"Yeah," Amy added. "I mean you see it on TV all the time, they getcha while you're lookin' somewhere else."
"You know," Link turned to look at her. "Sometimes I don't even know what you say, even after all this time." They both laughed while Zelda continued.
"Do we think then that we can lend any credence to the thought that something has been brought forth that…that could do this, something maybe we…"
Adam snorted at first but when Zelda gave him an anxious look he chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Well…it might be," he said, trying to appease her. "I suppose it isn't unheard of either. But understand the idea that something could have hijacked the magic that brought him home, and do so undetected, is extremely unlikely. That would require knowledge of magic that goes far beyond what the majority of magical…beings could know or wield. Not to mention the collective energy you would require pulling off such a feat. Besides, there are few left that discuss such forbidden techniques, let alone allow their students to be put in the extreme danger of trying it."
"But it's possible?" Zelda interrupted, she understood the fundamentals of magic just as much as Adam and didn't need the lecture.
Adam gave her a look as though she hadn't heard a word he said. "For a god maybe," he said sarcastically.
Zelda ignored him; the thought was beginning to scare her further. "You said 'forbidden'…would you know of any such people or peoples that could achieve such an act. Or even dare."
Adam shifted uncomfortably beside her. "The Dahi maybe…"
"Could the sages," she pressed. "As a collective I mean?"
He seemed even more uncomfortable with the questions she was giving him but she would have the truth of the matter. Their lives were obviously at stake here, and something was playing games with them. "Zelda…"
"Tell me," she said, almost raising her voice.
"You tell me!" Adam sat back, in a move that could have meant he had taken offence.
"Could you?" A flash of anger appeared on his face for a moment but it quickly faded to hurt. She didn't notice until now, but she was clutching her hands together so tight they were white. She also noticed the looks of concern from the others in the room. She had gotten carried away with herself somehow. What had come over her? She knew the true scope of magic in the world. It was a bright and wonderful thing and although daunting in many senses of the word, she was long since past the stage of being terrified by it. Haydn was looking at her with eyes wide in alarm. "I'm sorry…"
"Need it be something unnatural?" The King spoke up, obviously wishing to calm the tension she had inadvertently mounted. "Is there any way this could be some form off…natural aggression?"
"Natural?" Link said, puzzled. "You mean someone rather than something?"
"It seems more likely," Adam said, almost bitterly. "I mean it seems fairly straightforward to arrange the butcher of a few dozen civilians at a roadside inn but…"
"But…?" Link asked.
"The rest…" Adam said. "I mean sure, perhaps you could manipulate a few people into violent situations but what was the result? We never saw anything else happen while we were busy chasing our tails."
"Just because we never saw it doesn't mean it wasn't happening." Zelda interjected.
"But that doesn't mean it was something all-powerful," he said, curt, as if to nip any suggestions of the sort in the bud. "Someone already here, in this land, could be quite capable of waiting for a moment where we were confused or distracted…But what would be the point? The nation didn't suffer…"
They all considered it quietly. Now that logic had replaced the illogical fear she had experienced momentarily, Zelda found she agreed with her father that whatever had happened over the course of the past few days needn't be something supernatural, but she couldn't help thinking that Adam was right also about it being seemingly pointless.
"If it were to be something normal, something ordinary," the King pondered. "What would that mean?"
"Do we have any enemies?" Cair Linder asked, speaking for the first time.
The King seemed to be genuinely unaware, which wasn't a good sign. "Perhaps I have ignored this situation in the south for too long," he said. "Perhaps someone feels we need to be…provoked into action."
"I don't like it, Daphnes," Linder said. "I don't like being played like that."
"What's even more disconcerting is that it could just as easily be one of our own bannermen." The King said. He seemed to be growing more stern, his voice lowering as he spoke.
"But what of tonight? How could even someone skilled in magic manipulate people like that? It was as if they were possessed or being controlled in some way…" Cair Linder seemed to trail off as suddenly as he began as he and the king exchanged a glance. Zelda exchanged a similar troubled look with Adam. Amy, Link and Haydn seemed genuinely bewildered at the sudden silence.
"What is it?" Amy asked.
"Nothing," Adam dismissed. "Look, we're all tired and this is doing us no good. I think we should all just go get some sleep and we can discuss this in the morning."
"It is the morning," Haydn said pointing out the window.
Adam gazed at him annoyed. "Not helping," he laughed and stood up, holding out his hand. "Come on; let's go see if we can't get you something to help you sleep."
For some reason the boy seemed to perk up and jumped to his feet. "Thank you," he said and Adam rubbed the back of his neck. She thought she noticed him wink at Amy but she couldn't be sure.
Zelda felt a hand on the back of her neck as well. Her father's large but gentle hands squeezed her shoulders lovingly. "Perhaps the boy is right," he said. "We should all sleep on it."
When Zelda was alone in her own bedchamber, she slipped out of her clothes and into a silk gown. It felt smooth against her skin as it slid past her waist and over the curve of her breasts. She couldn't help but notice the sudden chill as she crawled beneath the covers.
She closed her eyes. She knew the dawn should be breaking but her room seemed darker than ever. She felt a chill creep up her spine and run along her arm. It almost felt like the cold hand of death, but it made her feel more at home than she liked to admit. "Not now," she whispered into the pillow.
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Adam watches with complete disbelief. That has to be four, five, six of his men down and he is still going strong. Who is this boy, this child, this scrawny pest that is slowly making his way into the chamber towards him?
The two remaining Moblins have the boy pinned to the ground beneath their staves; his sword the only thing keeping him from certain death. Adam can't help but chuckle at the thought.
What is he wearing?
Just then he kicks his legs out, connecting with the groin of the creatures, which pull their staves back to support themselves. In doing so they lift the boy dangling into the air with a yelp, for he has grabbed the shafts. He then kicks them in the head before spinning to the ground, disarming the Moblin to his left and skewering him through the stomach.
Adam laughs out loud as the boy tries to remove the spear from its owner but can't. Letting out a yell he simply charges at the other, the first Moblin and all, and impales the pair on the wall at the back of the hall.
Adam turns to the soldiers behind him and glares. "Get that out of here, now." The gold they were sent to collect had once filled the back of the chamber but the last was almost ready to be carried away. It seems this one down there has caught wind of the transaction somehow and is trying to stop it.
He flicks his hand and watches as the boy stops, stunned, as four more Moblin appear before him. He runs to the back of the room, and Adam watches with intrigue as he pulls a torch from the sconce and waves it like his sword. From a pouch on his back he seems to pull a small round object, a pot or a jar or… Throwing it at the first, he pulls another and another until all four are covered in oil.
By this time Adam is in stitches. "Are you seeing this?" He shouts behind him, but the men keep working. Good.
The boy throws the torch at the first Moblin, which lets out a shriek as it catches fire. The others panic but the boy produces a bow and shoots through the rope behind him that holds in place some crates on the pulley system they had constructed to move the chests. Now with rope in hand, he produces another jar and begins to douse the end. Then, fire-rope in hand he swings and throws it at the Moblins until they scream their last.
When all stops, the young intruder discards the rope and walks to retrieve his sword. The only sound that can be heard in the room is Adam's laughter. The boy looks at him. He is breathing heavily and doesn't seem to understand the joke. Curbing his amusement Adam speaks to the intruder. "That was actually inspired." The boy readies his sword and holds it menacingly. "Oh they are a dime a dozen, in truth; I could summon them 'til you merely dropped dead from exhaustion, but we'd be here all day at any rate – and I have things to do." Drawing his own sword he mimics the boy's threats. "Besides, there's more than one way to scratch an itch."
"Who are you?" The boy demands, in a voice remarkably unafraid. He's not shy, this one.
"Who am I?" Adam echoes, incredulous. "You come in here, waving your little fire-rope around, kill my men and expect me to explain myself?"
He glares up at him. His blue eyes glisten in the firelight. His face is smudged from the dirt or soot or maybe both and he has lost his hat – probably when he was pinned down. His hair is matted and tangled.
It's been quite a show. Not everyone could have made it to stand in front of him like this. Who is this boy? No mere bandit or outlaw, obviously. Adam has heard tales of a newcomer to the floundering opposition to Ganondorf's rule. Someone involved in raids and prison breaks and an unfortunate incident in the forest temple; someone that needs to be put down. Could it be this…thing before him? Adam smiles. "You're the one who defeated my father's phantom…"
The boy smirks. "What of it?"
Adam shrugs, unimpressed. "He relies too much on those demons, I always told him that…I tend to go along with that old adage: if you want something done right…"
He leaps, hoping to catch him off guard. As he lands, though he is ready for him, sword raised to block his blow. Adam goes for him viciously. He wants to see exactly what he's got. He swings left and right and the boy manages to scramble back and gain a bit of footing. He pulls his shirt out, and even Adam is surprised to see the slash he made in the front; the flesh colour poking through the green. The boy looks alarmed. "You awakened a sage didn't you?" Adam taunts. He swings to the right and the intruder parries. "This absolutely stinks of their influence. That old fool Rauru has got himself some friends…" Yet the boy doesn't say a word. He is too busy trying to gain an opening through which to return a blow. He manages to lunge at him, but Adam spins aside. "Oh well, it doesn't really matter, not when you fight like this. You'll never be able to handle the rest of them."
They turn and lock swords low, Adams on top. "Just watch me." The boy says and lets his weight drop.
Adam stumbles forward with a howl and the boy kicks the sword from his hand. He punches him square on the cheek. Adams teeth rattle as the force of the blow spins him round. He tries to regain his composure, searching frantically for his sword, but the boy has both of them now.
"Ahhhhhhhh," the boy yells and lunges for him.
Instinctively, Adam feels the power surge to his arms as he tenses up. The first blade comes down and is blocked by a surge of energy from his palm. The sudden use of magic is enough to throw the boy, at least enough to hesitate. Adam brings his right hand forward to his floating ribs and releases another blast.
"Ahhhhhhhh," the boy yells again, this time in agony, dropping the sword to clutch his side. But he is quick to react and brings his own sword round from the left to eviscerate him.
Smiling, Adam grabs the blade, but his smile quickly disappears as intense pain shoots up his arm. Both boys seem surprised at his reaction and neither makes a move. Adam grabs the blade again, the steel burning his hand with a great hiss, and whirls the boy round so the sword is between them. With barely a few inches between them the boy looks at him wide eyed. "This is…oh!" He pulls it higher, to get a look at the hilt. "Where did you find it? Unless…"
Adam thrusts the sword away and laughs once more. "This just gets better and better, doesn't it?" The stranger looks at him confused. "You're him. Aaaahhh," he sighs, showing him his wounded hand. "God, look how it repels me, hahaha"
"What are you…?"
Whether it's through curiosity or a hint of fear, Adam rears up. Sparks crackle amongst his fingers as the power surges to the ends of his arms and he puts all his might behind it. The lightning, dark and purple and crackling like thunder, flies through the air towards the stranger in green. As he raises his sword, the blast is absorbed, totally and completely, by the steel. He seems to strain under the force but holds his ground.
As Adam loses the energy to keep up the attack, the boy tries to throw the force back upon him. But he simply swings his leg in a complete arc and kicks the sword from his hand. He is just as exhausted as Adam, so drops it easily.
As the boy struggles to keep to his feet, Adam moves forward and pulls him close, grabbing his face to hold him steady. He has never felt as exhilarated, despite his fatigue. "I'm afraid I really have to go," he smiles at the worried boy. "But just know that, right now, I really couldn't kill you even if I wanted to."
Adam looks over at the sword and then back at the boy in green. He feels the grin come almost instantly. To have seen it, to have actually seen it! Who knows what his father would think. "Thank you." He leans in close and kisses the boy on the forehead before running to the doorway behind.
Seventh Year of Ganon's reign: Ocarina of Time
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