Long ago tomorrow, in the time of the great storm, the wise princess will travel in secret, braving the madness of endarkened guardians in search of the legendary six sages. She endured seven years of trial alone, until the gate of the gods' broken dreaming will be open again.
The spirits of the six lost sages will be gathered to unmake the storm, and the magic of the great fairies returned the land to the keeping of the wise princess. But the darkness did not lift with the death of the usurper King, or the great beast which will come after.
The princess used the place of the gods' dreaming to unravel the years, and return all things to how they were before the storm. But death will hold the deathless guardians, as the gods' dreaming held the lost-and-found sages, and the great fairies hide, as they once did in the long ago tomorrow, when the bad magic was beginning...
- o - O - o -
Rajo sprawled on the stained twisthorn wool rug, watching the wandering fire dance across the sky. Link hummed a strange, eerie melody as he spun their wool into finer, smoother yarn than Rajo had ever yet managed. The weaving masters would ask questions, but when did they not? Let them yell about uneven quality - what did it matter if it wasn't all the same so long as it was finished? Fine or heavy, even or lumpy, it made cloth either way.
Rajo folded their hands behind their head, drinking in the beauty of the night sky. "What makes the magic bad? Your stories only say it is dark, but dark isn't bad, it just is. Like lightning or wind or a wild thing. So what's so bad about it?"
Link stopped humming, but the soft whir of the spindle continued. "Why do you have to be like that? Why can't you just be good?"
Rajo frowned. "What do you know about anything anyway, Hylian?"
"Enough," said Link. He sulked in silence, flicking the spindle with irritation.
Rajo just watched the wandering fire and wallowed in the heaviness of the feast. Their stomach hurt it was so full, but it was a glorious pain, and they could still taste the forbidden spices on their tongue.
"The bad magic hurts people," Link said at last. "People will die, Rajolaan."
"People die all the time," said Rajo with a shrug. "Everyone knows that."
"Why do you have to be like that? You don't even sound sorry." Link muttered.
"Why should I be? The gods made that rule, not me."
"Because," said Link. "Dying hurts. You should be sorry when people die, and extra sorry when they didn't get to be old first, and even more when it's because of you -"
Rajo rolled to their hands and knees and snarled at him. "Stupidhead! Cucco-brained moon-face! You think you can say whatever because you're big, but you don't know anything! The stories I told you - those were accidents, ok?"
Link froze, blue eyes wide. The spindle slowed and spun around the wrong way, but he didn't notice.
"Being sorry doesn't do anything, stupid. Being sorry doesn't make it unhappen. And anyway some people are better off dead - Dira would have become a great warrior - now they cannot even walk without potions - how will they find their Name in the Sands now? Poe and Stalfos don't care, so why should I? Why should anyone?" Rajo snapped.
"Because," said Link, eyes shining in the dim light from the wall-crystals and the wandering fire and his blue-purple magic stone. "Hurting people is bad, Rajolaan."
"That's not fair! I haven't done anything," Rajo scrambled to their feet. "Things just happen, ok? You're just like everyone else - talking about omens and magic and watching - always watching - just because I'm different, just because I'm not perfect - If I'd known you'd be so stupid-"
The spindle fell to the floor and rolled away to bump against the magic stone. The blue-purple light flared, and rushed back to the stone with a pop that made their ears ring. The crystals in the walls lost their light, and the wandering fire blinked out as the stars wound forward to dawn.
Link vanished.
Rajo blinked at the empty room, confused by all the sand. Link swept all of it out while they were back at the fortress, and washed away the bloodstains too - but it was all back.
"Why did you do it?" Link murmured in Hylian from somewhere behind them.
Rajo turned, throat tight, tongue too dry to work. Link knelt behind them at the edge of the stained rug, facing away. At his side, the jar of honey-glass and all six bottles full of water, the yarn and the broken bow, and the spindle full of the oasis yarn Rajo had hidden in the weavers baskets.
"Do what?" Rajo whispered.
Link whirled about, startled, drawing a short leaf-shaped blade from somewhere. Behind him, Rajo saw red braids and a bundle of bloodstained blankets.
Rajo took a step back, and Link lowered the sword.
"Everything," he said in Hylian. His pale face was streaked with dirt and tear-tracks, and though he spoke softly his face snarled. "You lie. You steal. You break things. You hurt people."
"You're not real," whispered Rajo, but they didn't quite believe themselves. "I am real - I will wake up-"
"No," said Link. "You won't."
Rajo swallowed hard, balling their hands into fists at their sides, and thought of Nabs. "Am I dead?"
Link shook his head, and hid the sword again. "Not anymore in this time. Not yet."
"Are you dead?"
Link sniffed and rubbed his fist across his weird little nose. "Why did you heal me?"
Rajo opened their mouth to speak, but a hand cold as the night wind snatched at their own as the blue light of Link's spell-circle flared with a great ringing loudness bigger than music, bigger than anything. Rajo screamed as Link vanished and another frozen hand clamped hard over their mouth. Rajo bit the hand and fought - but the blue light made them dizzy and clumsy, so they only fell to their knees and scraped their hands on the bare rust-streaked floor of the square observatory cave.
"It's ok," said Link in their ear. "I fixed it."
Rajo's stomach turned inside out.
- o - O - o -
Link helped them out of their soiled mantle and tunic, and wrapped them in mostly-clean blankets. He carried all the dirty things outside, and came back soon after with fragrant cedar wood and a bag of rocks. He built a tiny fire around a three-legged pot, and spun while he waited for tea. Rajo sat on the rug with their back against the cave wall and tried not to shame themselves again.
Link's blue magic was fine as long as they didn't think about it, didn't cross in or out of it, didn't look directly at the stone that seemed to be the focus of it. Whatever it was, whatever it was for, Rajo hated it. Everything that happened since the blue stone lit up was horrible.
Silence stood between them a long time, until Rajo had to bite their tongue to keep from falling asleep. Link brought them a stoneware cup smelling of green and heavy with King's Honey.
"Is that the bad magic?"
Link shook his head. "It will keep you warm. You like it."
"Not the tea, stupid. The rock." Rajo scowled, and cradled the plain cup in both hands, letting the steam coil up their nose. They tried not to wonder why Link knew they would like it.
Link looked confused, but he followed their gaze when they nodded toward the pulsing blue-purple stone. Link had tucked it with its white cloth into one the empty feast-pots to prevent more accidents, but still its baleful glow spoiled the warm light of the amber wall-crystals.
"Oh," Link hung his head, and his cheeks turned pink. "It is dangerous magic, but not bad. I'm sorry it scared you Rajenaya - I will find the key in this before, and I will fix it, and then you will be good, and the storm will stay away."
"I wasn't scared," Rajo lied. "Will I get my Name before I die?"
Link turned too quickly and stumbled, squeaking a wordless question.
"You are some kind of weird spirit, yeah? You know how I will die," said Rajo, tasting the tea. It burned their lips, but it was sweet and reminded them of the white flowers in the court of the oasis fortress. "Do I get a Name first? Is it a good one?"
"Yes and no." Link murmured, licking his lips.
Rajo rolled their eyes. "Don't be stupid. Yes and no are opposites. It can't be both."
Link sat down next to the fire, wrapping his arms around his knees. His gray trousers were still torn and dirty, but he didn't seem to care. Nor did he notice the summerstones in his jewelry were shining all on their own. Rajo didn't see any new wounds on him, but maybe he still had bruises under his purple tunic. Or maybe something happened while he was getting firewood.
"Why did you help me?"
Rajo sipped the tea more carefully. "You ask that lots."
"It's important," said Link, dropping his chin on his knees.
Rajo shrugged. "Because."
"But why?"
"Because!" Rajo groaned, dropping their head back against the wall to stare out the great crystal eye. "I don't know ok? Why do you have to be stupid about it? I made your summerstones work, you brought the pink fairy. We're even, yeah?"
"No," said Link. "You did a bad thing, I just fixed it. Fixing things is good. Heroes fix things. I am good."
"And I'm not?"