From the Dust

by zestycrouton

The long-awaited sequel to Hit List. A year has passed since the Ordon High Massacre, and what was meant as a harmless class trip results in a horrifying struggle for the fate of mankind and the secrets kept so long in the dark. "History cries, as one from the dust, raising a silent voice of warning... There is much we could learn, if we would but listen." AU

21. Harmony

Chapter 21

Harmony

Groose's eyes snapped open and he had to clench his teeth to stifle the groan that immediately tore itself from his chest.

Goddesses above, he hurt everywhere! What had happened? His back felt like he'd been on the receiving end of a surprise pile-driver, and his entire left shoulder was a veritable ball of stabbing agony. He tried to adjust his arm and instantly stopped- the muscles immediately flared in pain and a number of his ribs creaked in agony. He might've broken a couple of them, and he was about ninety percent certain his arm was dislocated. But how? And where was he, anyway?

Blinking through the pain, Groose used his good arm to push himself up, dragging his knees out of the cool water and bringing them up through the mud to support his weight. His entire body felt chilled and he drew his good arm across his muddy chest, holding himself for warmth and gently kneading the muscles around his injured shoulder while he peered blearily through the darkness around him. It looked like he was in a… desert? Well, not really a desert. Somewhere kinda dry, though he could see grass and a handful of scrubs. It was hard to tell; the moon was high in the sky, but it was obscured by a blanket of dark clouds. It looked like there was maybe a cliff over to his left and he thought he heard what might be a waterfall in the distance. A waterfall…

His memory came back to him in a flash and he inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes flying wide and pain flaring through his ribs once again. The waterfall and the cliff! He and Marin had flown up it and found some abandoned house full of mummies! They'd been fighting them, and then… and then…

She'd accidentally knocked him into something, and then everything went black. That's the last thing he remembered. Apparently he'd gotten away from the mummies they'd been fighting, and judging by the fact that the waterfall was to his left, he was back on the bottom of the cliff again. But how… Unless when she'd knocked him backwards he'd flown into the river and had been washed downstream by the current. He must've toppled down the waterfall while he was unconscious. Groose swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat. He was lucky he was still alive. He should've drowned, or at the very least broken his neck when he'd tumbled off the falls. The river wasn't all that deep if he remembered correctly. Maybe that's what happened to his shoulder? The waterfall basin was probably deeper than the rest of the river, and the mud might have cushioned the impact a little, but…

Groose shook his head roughly, feeling his head twinge a bit from the sudden movement. Who cared how he survived, what about Marin? Where was she? Did the mummies get her after she'd knocked him out? He needed to get up and get looking. Pushing himself unsteadily to his feet, he ignored the pain and immediately set off towards the cliff. After two steps, something caught his injured shoulder with a painful tug and he came to a stop with a hiss.

Glancing down, he was surprised to see the grappling hook was still mostly wrapped around his arm. The hook itself was somewhere in the river, probably half buried in the mud; it had caught when he'd tried to walk away, trapping him like a dog leash. With a grimace he moved to shrug the rope off, then hesitated and instead waded back into the water to fish the hook out. He didn't feel like he was in very good shape, but this grappling hook might just be his only way up the cliff side. He could try calling the bird again, but he didn't know what the song was and he was pretty sure that in that case, it wasn't so much the song as it was the actual flute that was being used, and all he had was Marin's pan flute.

He blinked and looked down at his chest. Yup, the pan flute was still there. So it had survived the river and the waterfall, too. Maybe it was magical and indestructible… but no, there was a scratch along the front of the reeds, probably from a pebble or something when he'd washed up on the riverbank. The leather thong looked a little ratty too. He'd need to find some way to replace it before he returned it to Marin.

Wrapping the grappling hook around his shoulder again, Groose set off towards the cliff once more, anxiety nibbling on the edges of his confidence and determination. He hoped Marin was ok… She was tough for a band geek and probably better in a fight than he was what with that magic wind stick of hers, but she lacked Groose's fortitude. Still, he doubted that those mummies had gotten to her, even if she'd frozen twice at the sight of them. No, judging by how dark it was, it had likely been hours since he'd been knocked into the river and washed up onshore, and was probably already at the end of this dumb quest. He'd need to book it if he wanted to catch up to her.

He arrived at the base of the cliff and stared up the rocky wall with a frown. It was high, but he thought his grappling hook might be just barely long enough to reach the top. That wasn't his problem; his problem was going to be climbing the rope with his shoulder out of wack. Seriously, this was likely going to be the most painful thing he'd ever attempted… but he couldn't afford to stand around and wait for his shoulder to heal. That could take days, and Marin might need help now.

Screwing up his determination, he slung the rope off his injured shoulder and braced his legs, twirling the twisted bit of metal that served as the hook for a moment in his good hand before turning and hurling it up into the air. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but it looked as though the hook just managed to reach the cliff top and land somewhere just out of sight.

Grunting in appreciation, he took the rope in his hand and tugged, hoping the hook would snag and allow him to climb. To his dismay, it slid right off the edge and fell back down. Grumbling, he scooped it off the floor and tried again. And again. And again.

On the fourth attempt it caught, and Groose let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, he didn't think this was going to work. Giving the rope an experimental tug, he seized it in both hands, his left arm screaming in protest, and began the painful process of climbing.

He made it not even three feet before whatever the hook had caught on broke free and he fell back to the ground in a painful heap, the hook landing not even a foot away from his head with a resounding clang. Something in his shoulder popped painfully. Head throbbing, shoulder screaming, he lay on the ground for a moment clenching his teeth and writhing in silent agony. After the shockwaves of pain resided he let his watery eyes blink back open and took in the dark cliff face with a murderous glare.

He should have realized that would happen. What was there to hook onto on the edge of the cliff but loose soil and rocks? Forget about his arm, the only way the grappling hook was going to help him get up the cliff was if he found something with a solid foundation to grab onto, but how was he supposed to do that when it was so dark that he couldn't even see?

His anxiety over Marin's wellbeing swelled obnoxiously in his chest, but he beat it down resolutely. She was fine, the girl was more than capable. Well… a bit of an airhead, true, but she had the courage of a lion and a penchant for thinking outside of the box. She was fine… but he still wanted to be there to watch her back, just in case. But how in the Goddesses' name was he going to get up the ledge?!

He sat up with a sigh, wincing at the twinge of pain that shot through his ribs and moved to rub at his shoulder before realizing the pain had receded a great deal. Had he… knocked it back into place when he'd hit the ground? Grunting, he lifted his arm experimentally and was pleased to see it respond, albeit with tremendous pain. Well, that was better than before. With a wistful sigh, he stared forlornly at the pan flute that swung from its leather thong around his neck.

If Marin were in this situation, she'd just play some magical song and fly her way up. Midna could probably find some answer in that book of hers, or else use that ocarina to turn back time so she never got separated in the first place. But for him… what could he do? He played like he was the hero, but he said it himself to Marin earlier- he was the all-around jock. Sturdy and useful in a scrap, but as far as general handiness he wasn't a very flexible tool. Sure, he knew a bit about carpentry from his dad and he was good at physics, but just look at what had happened last time he tried to be something he wasn't. He'd rained flaming chunks of the moon on a defenseless city. And unlike Marin and Midna, he hadn't stumbled across a mind-blowing magical tool. All he had was a grappling hook, these golden gauntlets that may-or-may-not have given him super strength if he could figure out how they worked, and a set of ordinary reed pipes that he didn't know how to play. This was pointless. It was like he was trying to build a doghouse, but all he had was a hammer and a screw driver. No saw, no nails, no balance, no-

He blinked and felt his eyebrows rise in surprise and, dare he admit it, poorly concealed hope. He was wrong… there was one song he knew how to play… He wasn't sure what it would do, and it was a long-shot, sure, but… Well, when you're drowning you grab on to whatever's closest. Besides, he was a fan of these seemingly hopeless plays.

Drawing the reed pipes to his lips, he took a deep breath and puckered his lips, blowing into the tiny wooden pipes from lowest to highest in one quick pass. He held his breath as he waited for the magic of the Scarecrow's Song to take effect, hoping that Pierre and Bonaroo hadn't been lying and that something useful might actually happen…

For a moment all was silent, and he felt his hope begin to wither and die as another lonely breeze ruffled past, chilling his still-sodden limbs, and just as he was about to give up and hurl the reed pipes into the river, a voice called out through the darkness.

"Whoa, baby! How the heck did I get up here?!"

Groose felt his jaw drop. He knew that voice…

"Pierre?!" He squawked, leaping painfully to his feet and craning his neck up, squinting through the darkness towards the source of the voice at the top of the cliff.

"Yo, Groose?!" Pierre responded, sounding equally shocked. "Is that you? So you're not dead after all?! Yeah baby! Well that's the best news I've heard all day! We thought you were mummy chow for sure!"

Groose shook his head, bemused. How had the scarecrow arrived at the top of the cliff? They had no legs! Why else would they stand around in a field all day?! Unless… unless this was what the Scarecrow's Song did? Summoned the scarecrow with whom they'd made their pact?

Groose felt his brows lower into a flat glare. Well great, so the Scarecrow's Song summoned a scarecrow. That'd be amazing if he was planning on growing turnips in his backyard, but how was that supposed to help him now-?

An idea sprang up in his head.

"Hey, Pierre, say something!"

"Say something?" Pierre parroted back, sounding bemused. "What the heck does that mean? I've been saying something this whole time, haven't you been listening? Hey, how'd you get down on the bottom of this cliff? I can't really see very well but I don't think the music box house is all that far away. You sure didn't move far before choosing to summon me, did you? Why did you need me to-?"

With a whirl and a grunt, Groose managed to zero in on Pierre's location on the cliff top by focusing on the sound of his voice and hurled the grappling hook up in his direction, holding his breath that his plan would work…

There was a thud, and then Pierre's voice cut off in a surprised yelp.

"Hey- ow! What is… Is this a rope? With some sort of hook on it? Did you… Did you throw this at me?! Man, that is not how you treat your scarecrow buddies, baby! Now you got it all tangled around my-"

Groose seized the lower end of the rope and gave an almighty tug. To his immense relief, the rope held fast.

"ACK!" Pierre screeched from his perch up above. "What are…?! I've been stabbed! I've been stabbed through the chest! You put your stupid hook through my chest, you freak! What is wrong with you?! What kind of sick monster treats his friends this way?! Oh, Goddesses, I… I think I'm dying! I'm dying! I can feel my life blood dripping away! Oh, the light…! I can see the light!"

Ignoring the overly dramatic cries of the scarecrow up above, Groose seized the rope in both hands and took a slow, deliberate breath. Din, but this was going to hurt… his shoulder may be miraculously relocated, but it was hardly back in peak condition. Regardless, wherever she was, Marin probably needed him. Midna, too. And everyone else. He needed to get moving.

Injured as his shoulder was, he decided there was only one way to go about this. He needed to see if he could walk up the cliff, holding himself steady with his injured hand and using his good hand to reach forward and pull himself up by increments. He braced one foot against the rock wall, secured the rope in his gauntleted fist, the hand of his injured arm level with his hip, and jumped up.

Pain flared through his body and he gritted his teeth, preparing himself for the first pull… and stopped, feeling his eyebrows draw down in consternation. His left shoulder still hurt, but his arms… It was like there was no weight pulling at the rope. He still had to struggle to keep his feet on the rock face and not let them simply obey gravity and hang down, and the act of lifting his legs still required effort from his thighs and abdominals, but for whatever reason using his arms to hold himself up was requiring zero energy. It was like he was suddenly weightless… but that was insane. He knew he had weight, he had to have weight, otherwise the wind would be able to blow him around. Was it something to do with the scarecrow, or the grapple hook? No, he'd used the grapple hook dozens of times…

His eyes zeroed in on the gauntlets.

It couldn't be…. But there was no other explanation. The gauntlets once belonged to the Hero of Time, clearly they were special in some way if they'd been preserved in Flat's manor for all this time. And he'd used them to push that wall over. Marin thought it had just been weak and caved in, but Groose knew what he had seen. Only… if they gave him the strength to move massive blocks, and made it so he could support his own weight on his hands with ease, why did the strength not come to him when he'd punched the wall? Why wasn't it any good in a fight?

The memory of him tumbling off the porch with the mummy came suddenly to mind, and he remembered struggling to push it off his chest and the way that it had flown up into the air, its limbs tearing off of its torso like paper-mâché. At the time he'd just thought it was his own adrenaline mixed in with the rotted corpse's eroded appendages, but what if it wasn't? What if it had to do with the gauntlets giving him extra strength?

Rules… there had to be rules to how it worked. He just needed to figure out what they were. Think, Groose, think… He pushed the rock, and it worked. He punched the wall, and it didn't. He pushed the mummy, and it worked. He held himself up, and it worked.

Pushing… holding… pulling, more like. Was that how it worked? Only when he pushed and pulled things?

Determined to give it a try, he pulled himself up with his right arm.

His body moved up as though he were a feather.

Grinning, he quickly threaded the rope through his injured hand, reached up for more rope, and pulled himself up again.

It was working… Moreover, it was helping. If it weren't for the gauntlets making the job easier, he doubted his shoulder would have survived the climb. It didn't make him weightless though, as his aching legs and abdomen could attest. Rather, it was more like the gauntlets themselves supported the weight of whatever they were holding; his legs swung free and were moved by muscles not related to his hands or arms, and so to those muscles his legs and body had weight, but as far as his hands were concerned, he may as well have been a bubble.

It still took several minutes for him to scale the length of the cliff and reach Pierre, who was still screaming and hollering in his overly-dramatic death throws, his arms wrapped around in Groose's rope and his chest pierced by one of the prongs of the grappling hook. The wooden pole that held him aloft creaked slightly every time Groose moved closer, but remarkably it held up against the weight of Groose's body. It must be stronger than it looked.

Finally, with a grunt and a hiss of pain, Groose grabbed Pierre by the base of his pole and heaved himself onto the ledge of the cliff, rolling away from the edge and trying to ignore the way his shoulder stabbed at him. He probably needed to see a doctor once they got out of this… Hopefully the ribs were just fractured; the last thing he needed was to puncture a lung.

After a few gulps of air, he cracked his eyes back open and squinted through the darkness towards Pierre. The scarecrow was glaring down at him with all the righteous fury of a magistrate, his arms bent and held at his waist.

Groose felt his lips quirk into a crooked smile.

"Hey, Pierre. I thought you said you were dyin'."

"Ha ha." The scarecrow snarled dryly. "You're hilarious. Now will you get up off the ground and take this hook out of my chest? You owe me a new coat."

Groose snorted but complied, rising up on one knee and unwrapping the grappling hook, yanking the prong out of his straw-filled chest with a sharp jerk. It came free under the influence of his gauntlet-boosted strength with no trouble. He quickly threaded it through his belt and stuck one of the prongs through his waistband like he had back in Clock Town. It made it easier to carry.

"Thanks." Pierre responded wryly. "I wasn't kidding about that coat, though."

"Yeah, whatever. What's up with that song of yours? Why does it make you pop up wherever I play it?"

The scarecrow snickered. "It's our little way of getting around. We don't have any legs, so we can't get away from that cursed shack on our own, but if someone plays that song we can travel there. I guess you can say we were sorta tricking you."

Part of Groose felt like he ought to have been annoyed, but he had just stabbed a chunk of rusted metal through his chest and used him to haul himself up a cliff. Fair was fair.

"You might've picked a better spot though." Pierre continued. "One strong storm and I'll be knocked off this ledge and smashed to pieces. Figures I'd get stuck with you. Bonaroo lucked out with that pretty girlfriend of yours."

Well, that was probably true. His heart leapt at the mention of Marin; the fact that Pierre didn't skirt around her name or mention anything about mummies seemed to indicate that she was ok. That was a relief.

"Hey Pierre, did you see where she went?"

"Oh yeah. She kicked up a fuss when she found you went missing and almost went chasing into that evil house to find you 'til Bonaroo talked some sense into her. We told her that you musta run off and she just up and walked off all quiet like. I knew I was right; figured you were the type of guy to wuss out when things get hairy."

"I got knocked out and fell into the river." Groose grunted sourly, straightening up and peering off in the direction of the old wooden house and the still water wheel. It really wasn't that far away, maybe the length of a football field, but he could just make it out through the darkness. Or at least he thought he could. He didn't see any mummies prowling around. They must've given up once they realized they had nothing to eat. But if Marin thought he'd run away, then where'd she go off to?

Up river, he decided with a determined nod. She wouldn't let Groose abandoning her stop her from achieving her dream of being a master musician or whatever. The girl was dedicated if nothing else, and her will was like iron. She'd make one heck of a rugby player… if she were a dude and about two hundred pounds heavier.

Well, no sense in standing here, shooting the breeze. She'd had all night to walk, she might already be there, wherever there was. Nothing to do but carry on.

"Thanks, Pierre." Groose replied gruffly, massaging his shoulder and wincing. Actually, it felt a little better. Maybe he needed to stretch it out a bit? Hmm… "I need to catch up to Marin, though, so I'll see you later."

"Sure." Pierre mumbled, turning away and facing off the cliff. "See you later… Like you'd play my song again on purpose, unless you felt like stabbing me in the back again."

Groose frowned. "Nah, I mean it. When me and Marin get out of here and back to our home, I'll find the nicest garden around and give that song of yours a play. Marin, too. You and Bonaroo will be out of this crappy valley before you know it. I owe you that much."

Pierre turned back to face him and cocked his head to the side, looking uncertain. Finally he nodded and stuck out a handless arm as though to shake.

"Alright then, fleshy! You do that and I'll take back all the mean things I said about you!"

"Yeah, whatever." Groose replied, pinching the straw poking out at the end of Pierre's arm between his thumb and forefinger and giving the facsimile of a handshake. With a shake of his head, Groose set off.

The darkness was as thick as ever as Groose continued on, following the course of the river but leaving ample space between him and the actual body of water. He was loath to pass too near the old wooden shack full of the mummified dead and have them come alive again and take a second shot at devouring his flesh. As it was, the sky was overcast but the ground was relatively flat and devoid of vegetation, and his heavy, plodding footsteps quickly carried him away from Pierre and the cliff and the haunted house and before he knew it, he was alone in the middle of nowhere.

He kept his eyes peeled, looking every which direction, hoping for some sign of where Marin could be, but the darkness was thick like a cloak over his surroundings, and it was hard to see more than a dozen yards ahead. Besides, if Marin had had all afternoon and evening to continue on, she could be miles away by now. Entire worlds away, if the layout of this stupid museum was anything to go off of. She could've already gotten out. That being said, she could just as easily be dead or in grave danger. He may as well assume the worst and press on, hoping the two were reunited as soon as possible. Din, he hoped she was ok…

The oddness of that thought struck him for a moment, and he felt his lips twist wryly. Before his night in the museum he hadn't even known Marin had existed, and yet now here he was, pressing forward through potentially monster-filled darkness, essentially defenseless and lost, hoping to save her. He wondered what the old him would say about his actions. He'd probably snort and muster up his bravado, boasting loudly that he always knew he was a hero and it was his job to use his impressive muscles to save beautiful damsels in need and what not. And while he knew a part of himself still sort of felt that way, like he needed to put on this act to make sure that everyone thought he was this cool, confidant guy, another part of him, a smaller, louder part of him, knew that he was pressing on to save Marin for entirely different reasons.

She… mattered to him. Not like in a romantic, soul-mate kind of way; hey, cut him some slack, he may be softening up inside but he was hardly a hopeless romantic. She was certainly beautiful, no sense lying about that, and he'd jump for the chance to take her out on a date if he thought he had a prayer with a girl like her, but none of that was why he was doing this. No, he just… he felt like it was his responsibility. She was his friend, his team mate. In the last couple of hours, he'd gotten along better with that airheaded band geek than he had with all the guys on his rugby team combined and he had no idea why. The two were so different, they had nothing in common. So why did he feel so at ease around her? Like he didn't have to worry about what she thought of him. She was a music-obsessed weirdo and he was Ordon's rugby star. Friendships like that only happened in hokey movies.

His foot caught on a dried bush and he stumbled for half a second before catching himself and continuing on, undaunted.

Maybe… Maybe it didn't matter that they were so different. They had to have a couple things in common, right? They were both gingers. They both loved adventure. They were both new, trying to make friends in a school full of strangers, a school that had suffered a unique tragedy and had bound itself tightly together upon surviving it. They were both outsiders. They didn't know what it was like last year during the Ordon High Massacre. They weren't survivors, they hadn't shared those experiences and struggled to put it all back together afterwards. Is that why Groose felt like he had to try so hard to be cool? Because deep down he knew he'd never really fit in?

Man, why were his thoughts so heavy all of a sudden? He was too cool for this. He was Groose, the quintessential jock, the toughest guy in school! What use was base sentimentality when you had pecks like his?!

'Nobody's that one-dimensional!' Marin's scandalized voice seemed to echo in his head.

A grimace flitted across his face, and he turned to peer cautiously across the darkened river. Yeah, sure… Groose had other passions aside from rugby, but unlike his favorite contact sport, physics and carpentry had never done him or anyone else any good. He'd destroyed Clock Town the last time he tried to be something other than a jock! Granted, Midna had rewound time immediately afterwards and he and Midna had managed to save the city the next time around, but he'd done so with his physical strength. Aided by a magic mask, sure, but he'd still been playing to his strengths when he'd caught the moon on his shoulders and hurled it back into space.

A part of him wondered vaguely if that hadn't simply thrown off the gravitational pull that the moon should have had on the planet, thus disrupting the tides and essentially destroying the world all over again, but he shook the thought off. That world obeyed different rules, and that moon was far too small to be the actual moon. There was no sense worrying about things he couldn't change, anyway; just like there was no sense worrying about what Marin said about him being boring, even if her opinion of him carried more weight than it ought to. He was a jock, not a nerd. That's all he was, and all he wanted to be. If she thought that was boring well… So be it.

It took him a second to notice that a shape was forming out of the darkness in front of him. A large shape. A very large shape.

By the time Groose realized what he was looking at he had practically walked right up to the wall. It was a building. A large building, far larger than the wooden shack with the water wheel. Larger even than Flat's manor house, or than any building he'd seen thus far. It was hard to make out through the darkness, but it looked as though the entire outer wall was made of ancient, pitted stone, marred with cracks and fissures that told of great age and ran right up to the water's edge on his left and out of sight to the right. The wall stood maybe twenty feet high, and beyond it he could just barely make out the shape of a much larger building inside. A palace, maybe, or a castle of some sort. Not for the first time that night, he found himself regretting that he didn't pay more attention in history class. All of these worlds were supposed to come straight out of the legends of the Hero of Time, but Groose had no idea where or when he was let alone whose castle this was supposed to be. But none of that really mattered, he supposed; all he had to know was what to do about it.

Basically, he had two options- either he looked around inside to see if Marin was there, or else he continued on along the river. He was pretty sure that Flatt had said something about them going to the river's source, so if he had to put money on it, he'd say Marin had passed by without going inside, particularly after what had happened to them last time they'd decided to take a detour to a strange, old building. If he was assuming she wasn't in there, then he needed to push on too… but he'd already lost so much time while he was unconscious. What would be the fasted way to go? Left or right?

He ultimately decided on going left, as he could at least see the riverbank. The right continued on for who knew how long, and if Marin had been walking along the other side of the river then it might be better for him to go ahead and cross over now that he was beyond the mummy house and follow in her tracks exactly. Only, when he reached the corner of the outer wall by the river's edge and poked his head around it to examine the area, he found himself facing what looked like a platoon of fat, dark skinned men in rusty armor standing at attention on a bridge that spanned the body of water. Torches flickered on brackets behind them, but the shadows they cast made them difficult to make out clearly.

Sentries… so the castle wasn't unoccupied. They would definitely see him if he tried to cross over here. What was he supposed to do now?

He could go back to the right and walk around the back of the castle… but who knew how far a walk that would wind up being? He could double back along the river, cross over once he was out of sight, walk a good distance away from the river before continuing so that the guards wouldn't see him and then return to the riverbank once he was safe… but that sounded so time consuming too! There had to be a faster way! There had to be! Marin could be in danger now!

Stepping back from the edge and running his hands through his hair in a frustrated way, his eyes fell upon a segment of the wall that had fissure marks running in a triangular pattern from the dirt floor clear up to the top of the wall. The cracks seemed deep and old… The wall may have been broken clear through. With his gauntlets improving his strength, he may be able to push that section over like he'd accidentally done at Flat's manner house. Cutting through the castle would certainly be faster than walking around it… but it would also be riskier. A lot riskier. Was it worth it?

Ultimately, he decided that it was. He had no real reason to think that Marin was in any danger, but the thought of wandering impotently through the dark wilderness made his skin crawl. He never liked waiting on the sidelines during a play. He was an action sort of guy, and a little risk might do him some good, wake him out of this weird funk he was in. Besides, there were probably more sentries outside than in. All he had to do was keep to the shadows and make his way to the far side of the building, push another wall over, and he would be back outside and on his way.

Striding forward, he braced his gauntlet-covered palms against the cold, worn stone, feeling the way the surface scratched against his bare fingertips as he took a moment to brace his legs and prepare himself. One quick, clean push should be all it took. He wasn't quite sure how strong these gloves made him, but judging by the wall of the manor house, he ought to be able to handle this too. Even if he couldn't, he could always just walk around. Taking a deep breath, Groose steeled his determination and gave an almighty shove.

The wall cracked ominously above him, echoing through the night as the segment Groose was pushing against tore itself free of the wall with only slight resistance. Pebbles and dust rained down upon him, choking his airway as the chunk of outer wall toppled inwards, collapsing on the ground with a muffled crash, a slight tremor shaking the ground. Coughing, Groose stumbled forward, one hand covering his mouth, the other trying vainly to wave the dust and debris away from his eyes as he squinted through the darkness, struggling to take in his new surroundings.

He noticed as he passed through the newly made hole that the walls were almost four feet thick. He had to climb up onto the fallen section of wall to enter the castle grounds, noticing as he did that the wall had fallen apart when it hit the ground. Not surprising considering how heavy it apparently was, but the real piece of information to take away from this was how powerful his gloves were. It had been an effort to push the wall over, but not much of one. He could probably push over another ten or so before he winded himself. Idly examining the fragments of wall scattered about the dark dirt floor through the fading dust, he wondered exactly how heavy that wall had been and how much heavier it might have needed to be before his gauntlets would fail to help him.

A clank and a grunt to his right were his only warning. Reacting instinctively, Groose threw himself forward into a role, made painful and uneven on the broken surface of wall he was standing on, and unsteadily pushed himself upward, turning back to face the hole in the wall and the direction he'd come from.

There, standing right next to the hole's entrance, stood a figure in rusty chainmail, a huge spear clenched in its meaty fist, the blade of which was stabbed impotently through the space where Groose's throat had been mere moments earlier.

With a bestial growl, the figure retracted its weapon slowly, lowering its strangely elongated head and turning to regard Groose with an ominous glower through the slits in its helmet. For a wild moment, Groose thought he was facing what looked to be a short, squat, dark skinned man before he noticed the creature's tale swishing through the dark night air and the fact that its hands and feet were unprotected. Each of his dark green digits ended in a black claw, and though he possessed what looked like five fingers, his feet were distinctly birdlike, though still covered in scales like the rest of its body. The occasional scrap of armored plating covered his forearms or thighs, but other than its helmet and chainmail vest, most of its body was exposed. It was a lizard. A giant, man-sized lizard. Goddesses… Just when he thought he'd seen it all…

He wasn't sure if he was just unlucky enough to have pushed through a section of wall right by a waiting sentry, or if the sound of crashing stone he hadn't accounted for had alerted it to his presence, but either way it didn't matter. It was here now and he needed to deal with it.

Its tongue flicked out into the air like a snake, testing for his scent, and then it cracked its jaw open wide to reveal two rows of pointed yellow teeth and emitted a high-pitched shriek of challenge as it leapt up atop the fallen section of wall with surprising speed and charged straight at Groose, its spear held low.

Groose panicked. Leaping off the wall, he hit the ground at a dead sprint tearing hastily away from his attacker and the hole that lead back outside the castle compound. Torches lined the walls, making it easier to see within the walls, and after a moment of weaving through free-standing decorative pillars Groose realized he was in some kind of courtyard. The wall he'd pushed through seemed to form a box-like ring around the castle itself, which was a tall, imposing structure in the center of the compound. He couldn't see any entrances on this side, but then he didn't really have time to take a good look as he was currently running for his life away from an armored, spear-wielding velociraptor.

At first, Groose was convinced that the lizard was going to catch up with him at any second and impale him like a human shish-kabab, only when he run through after the first ten seconds of mad sprinting, Groose risked a glance over his shoulder to see that he and the lizard seemed to be running at the same pace. Surprised only for a moment, Groose realized that the monster must be weighed down by its armor and its weapon. Groose himself wasn't carrying anything other than his makeshift grappling hook and what he was wearing. Praising Din for his dedication to rugby training, Groose faced forward and raced on.

Numerous pillars made up the space between the outer wall and the castle, and Groose wove between them as if they were members of the opposing team and he was running the ball to the far end of the field. Though the lizard was more agile, Groose was smaller, and though he wasn't used to not being the bigger guy, he used whatever he had to his advantage. Goddesses, what he wouldn't give for a weapon… He hated always having to run whenever he got into an altercation. That wasn't how he had been raised. When you had a problem, you turned and faced it head-on, like a man. You only ran when you had no other choice. Certainly now was one such time, but it seemed like that had been the case all night. Run, run, as fast as you can, you can't catch me…

As he neared the front of the castle, he subconsciously reached forward to grab at the next pillar, meaning to try and pull himself forward with his arms as he ran as if it would make him faster. He forgot about his gauntlets, however, and as he tugged, the aged stone pillar snapped like a dead branch, toppling backwards to hit the ground with an almighty crash.

Groose turned around in spite of himself, caught off-guard. The lizard gave a shriek and leapt out of the way, hissing angrily, and the pillar hit the ground and broke into pieces, chunks of stone of various sizes tumbling in every direction.

Realization hit Groose like a kick to the gut. A weapon… he had a weapon- his strength! He just needed a way to use it effectively, and with all these pillars standing around…!

Turning, Groose punched the nearest pillar and immediately let out a yelp of pain, hopping up and down and waving his injured appendage frenetically. Nayru, he forgot… No punching, just pushing or pulling. Goddesses, that was annoying… but whatever. He could do this… He could still do this.

The lizard resumed its chase with a savage snarl, but Groose had already composed himself. Placing both hands against a pillar, he shoved it over with a grunt and watched as the pursuing lizard was forced to dive out of the way once again to avoid being crushed. Using this to his advantage, Groose turned and continued running, grabbing at every pillar he passed, pulling them back, knocking them over like dominoes.

The lizard tried to follow but found his path impeded every few feet by a new falling obstacle. It roared in rage and impatience, but by the time it managed to advance, Groose had gained about a dozen yards. Finally reaching the front of the castle, Groose turned and shoved the next pillar over sideways. Rather than falling backwards like the others, it fell sideways against the outer wall. Groose's plan was simple- if he couldn't make it back to the hole, he'd have to create another avenue of escape. There weren't any obviously broken segments of wall around here, but if he knocked the pillar over and leaned it against the wall, he might be able to use it as a bridge or a ladder...

Unfortunately, both his plan and the pillar fell apart. The moment it crashed into the wall it snapped into three pieces and crashed into the floor with a loud rumble. Cursing under his breath, Groose turned to see the lizard gaining on him and, further down the way, even more emerging from the back of the castle, no doubt alerted by the lizard's shrieking and Groose playing Hulk with the décor.

The sounds of more shrieks and hisses could be heard coming from his left amidst the sound of running feet. Turning in that direction, Groose saw the gates of the outer wall in front of the castle's entrance drawing upwards and more lizards rushing in, no doubt the ones he'd seen guarding the bridge, and even more spilling out of the castle itself and from around the far side, where he could see more pillars. So he'd been right, the outer wall did form a box with the castle at the center, and the space between the castle and the wall was filled with pillars, all save for the front which was open, a clear space about half the size of a rugby field. That was bad news. He was pinned near the front, surrounded by lizards who were closing in on all sides, and he was decidedly out of pillars to knock over, unless he could somehow break through and get back to the forest of pillars and the hole that would be his escape…

Glancing down at the fallen pillar that was to be his bridge to climb up, an idea popped into his head. Scrambling down for a decent chunk of broken pillar, he hefted one that was roughly the size of a human head and turned to lob it at the lizard with the lance.

The rock ought to have been much heavier and harder to lift, but with his gauntlets it might as well have been a baseball. He'd aimed for its head and missed, although from the crackling sound that emitted when the mini boulder struck its chest, he'd still managed to crush a few ribs. With a hoarse cry, the lizard fell to the ground, its body spasming for a moment before growing still, dark blood dripping from its gaping jaws. It burst into acrid black smoke.

A wild grin exploded across Groose's face. He had a weapon, a way to fight. And though he was still supremely outnumbered, he wasn't going to go down easy.

Turning, he hefted one of the larger sections of pillar, this one nearly five paces long and as thick around as he was, and turning to face the gathering group of lizards on his left, he hurled it into the gathering group of monsters with about as much difficulty as he would have had throwing a basket of clothes.

The pillar tore through the front ranks, immediately crushing five or six lizards and knocking over several more. A loud roar of disapproval echoed throughout the growing ranks of monsters, but Groose didn't wait to see how they'd react. Falling to his knees beside the rubble, he hastily began grabbing at whatever chunk of pillar was closest and hurling it at the first lizard he saw.

He did a fairly decent job of holding them off, at least for a little while. He lost count of how many lizards he took down, but judging by the number of swords and lances, axes and war hammers that lay discarded by piles of pillar, it was somewhere in the high teens or low twenties. About half the number of monsters who'd come to subdue him were dead, but more were pouring out of the castle to reinforce them, and unfortunately, Groose was out of pillar rubble.

Seizing his only chance, he grabbed at the last, large segment of pillar and hurled it through an approaching group of monsters and, before their reinforcements could patch the hole in their defenses, Groose pushed himself to his feet and ran sprinting through them, leaping desperately over chunks of stone, hoping that his feet didn't catch on anything in the flickering torchlight.

The feeling of victory that exploded through his chest as he broke free of the monsters and sprinted across the courtyard towards the far wall and the promise of escape dwarfed that of any accomplishment he'd ever had on the playing field. There he had been, in an impossible situation, and he'd barely managed to pull through in the clutch. He could do this. He could get out! He'd survive!

Passing the stairs that led up to the castle doors, vividly aware of the dozen or so angry lizards giving chase, Groose made to round the far side of the castle and disappear through the segment of undisturbed pillars only to find a fresh wave of lizard guards coming at him. The tiny flame of hope that had ignited in his chest died, but he squashed his fear and made himself move, unwilling to give up.

Grabbing the first pillar he came to in both hands, Groose rooted it out of the ground like a weed and, turning back to face the lizards approaching him, he clumsily tried to swing it like a baseball bat.

Though the gauntlets magically removed the would-be weight of the pillar from his hands, they didn't remove the weight of the pillar from itself. Halfway through the swinging motion, the top half of the pillar broke off, burdened by its own tremendous weight, and so only the first three lizards felt the brunt of Groose's swing. Still, it was enough to kill those three, and the fallen section of pillar exploded violently, sending stone shrapnel flying and scattering the would-be charge.

Turning hastily, Groose threw himself at the next pillar in desperation, ignoring the painful twinge in his shoulder as he knocked the stone object forward into its brother, which then toppled into the next, and on they continued like dominoes for the next four or five rows. The approaching lizards scattered, screeching fearfully, but to Groose's dismay he didn't see any crushed beneath the weight of the stone before a wave of dust obscured his vision.

When he turned back to the first group of lizards, he froze.

Ten or so formed a loose ring around him, keeping a wary distance but holding their weapons up defensively. He could see wicked looking curved blades and maces with sinister stains. A handful of them even had shields, and another five or so lizards prowled around in the background, slowly making their way over to him. Groose turned as though to flee around the side of the castle, but the lizards he'd failed to crush were just now emerging from the dust, hissing threateningly and brandishing their weapons, another dozen monsters added to the ones behind him, boxing him in. He was pinned between two clusters of monsters and the wall. He was doomed.

Swallowing thickly, Groose backed up to the wall and let his hands run across it, his fingertips searching for fault in the stone. He didn't want to turn around and look lest one of the lizards seize the opportunity to stab him while his back was turned, but he had to find a way out! Only the stone felt solid… It didn't seem to be broken at all. He wouldn't be pushing through it, not even with his gauntlets. He was stuck.

Once the ring had solidified itself, the monsters began making an odd sort of rasping sound that almost sounded like laughter. One of the ones in front stepped forward, raising a massive axe, and Groose raised his fists, feeling completely defenseless. Maybe… maybe if he somehow caught the axe? And… and pushed the guy away? Maybe he could… find some way to…

The lizard surged forward gleefully, axe poised to strike, Groose felt every muscle in his body tighten, his arms raised protectively in front of his face, and as his last thought turned to his family who would never know how he died, a deep roar pierced the night.

At once the ring of lizards pulled back, each turning to look over their shoulders at the entrance of the castle. Groose blinked in surprise. Wait, was he not dead? What was going on? Who had roared?

Something about the hissing of the lizards sounded different; it was no longer angry and impatient, but had taken on a sort of worried, fearful tone instead. As the lizards backed away from him, an opening formed through their bodies, and for a wild moment Groose thought they were going to let him go.

Then he saw the figure who had just emerged from the castle.

It was larger than the other lizards, with meatier arms and legs, a thicker torso, and skin a dull, mottled reddish-brown. Rather than chainmail and rusty plates, this lizard wore a full set of shiny armor that even covered its tail, and its helmet sported two red plumes that danced lazily in a passing breeze. None of that was what drew Groose's eye, however; from his gauntleted hand dangled a length of chain that pooled on the steps below him, the massive links dwarfed in his even more massive fists. The opposite end of the chain hung between his two hands, and there, dangling from his other hand on the end of the chain, was a massive steel ball studded with spikes.

Groose felt his mouth go dry. That ball was roughly the size of the medicine ball Groose had at home. It must weigh something ludicrous. That thing couldn't really be thinking it could use a ball and chain of that size as a weapon, could it? Even if it managed to lift it off the ground, the time it would take to swing it around and throw it would be more than enough reason to discredit it as a practical weapon, let alone how much energy it must take to wield. The strongest man on earth could maybe get a handful of tosses out of it, none of which would be accurate, and before he could reel it back in even a four-year-old with a kitchen knife would have time to skewer him.

The monster calmly walked down the stairs, dragging the ball and chain behind him. It thudded down the steps ominously, each loud crack punctuating the air like gunfire. With his eyes trained on the monster, it took Groose a second to realize that the other lizards had separated to form some sort of circle around the front of the courtyard. They blocked the exit to the bridge and the entrance to the castle, as well as the pillar-filled paths along either side of the large, imposing building. The front of the building, however, remained open, and it was to the middle of this space that the new lizard monster walked, dragging the chainball behind him.

Finally it stopped, exactly in the center of the courtyard, facing Groose in ominous silence. Groose took one long look at his surroundings and understood. This lizard must be some sort of leader of the other lizards, and it looked like it was challenging him to single combat. Without pillars to throw, however, it wouldn't be much of a challenge. Whether out of respect for all the lizards Groose had managed to take down on his own, or because he wanted the fun of killing Groose himself, he didn't know. He was betting on the latter though.

Swallowing thickly, Groose took a few hesitant steps forward, then hastily stooped down and scooped up the axe of one of the lizards he'd felled with a pillar. The thing felt weightless in his gauntleted hand, but Groose had no idea how to use it to do anything but chop wood. He also wasn't sure if the gauntlets would make the swing of his axe more powerful or not. The haft was wooden; would it snap after the first swing if the gauntlets did work? Would he even get a first swing in?

The monster nodded, then lifted the ball off the ground, leaving about three feet of chain between his hand and the massive steel ball. Slowly it began twirling the ball around its head.

To say that Groose was impressed that the lizard-man was managing that much was an understatement, and it was even doing so one-handed. Groose licked his lips and considered his options. The ball circling around the monster proved a fairly effected defense against him just rushing up and attacking him dead on, but if he could get it to hurl the chainball and dodge it, then he'd have the opening he needed to strike with the axe…

Deciding there was no time like the present, Groose hefted the axe in his hand and charged with a hoarse yell. As he drew nearer, footsteps heavy on the shadowy dirt, the rotation of the ball grew steadily faster and longer as the creature gave his weapon more slack on its massive chain. Groose had no idea how long it was, but it looked to be something like ten to fifteen feet, maybe more. He had more range than Groose, certainly, but the further out Groose was when he threw his ball, the longer it would take for him to draw it back in…

Then again, the longer it would take Groose to get up close to strike as well. Well, whatever. He would probably only get once chance at this, so he may as well stop worrying and just get him to throw the ball.

Drawing within attack range, Groose focused all his attention on the creature's arm, waiting for the moment that he would strike…

It happened far faster than Groose would have thought possible. With an audible grunt, the lizard whipped its arm forward as the ball swung behind him and the massive lump of steel hurdled through the air towards Groose at an overhead angle, meaning to strike with the ball exactly where Groose would be standing if he didn't change course. Utilizing all of his rugby talent and pretending like he was dodging a would-be tackle and not a hundred pounds of solid steel, Groose put on a burst of speed and lithely twisted around the ball, the chain dragging painfully against his hip as it passed, nearly knocking Groose off balance but miraculously he kept on his feet, surging forward at a dead sprint, the axe held high as he screamed in defiance, poised to strike.

The second the ball smashed into the ground, the lizard brought his free hand up to grip the chain and jerked backwards with both arms. Groose realized what was happening almost too late. Forgetting his would-be swing, Groose threw himself to the right and narrowly dodged the chainball as it hurdled back through the air through the space where his body had been and was caught in the arms of the lizard with little more than a pained grunt.

Panting, Groose scrambled back to his feet warily, brushing the dirt off his pants as he examined his foe with newfound trepidation. This thing was strong, far stronger than Groose would have thought possible. To have yanked a ball of that weight and size backwards so soon after throwing it, and at that speed, and then to catch it in his arms… It blew Groose's mind.

And it crushed his hopes of winning, too. His only hope had been to seize advantage of the opening created when it threw the ball. But if it could turn reclaiming the ball into an attack just as deadly as hurling it had been, and do so practically instantaneously, then there wasn't an opening at all. He would need to try and find another way, and fast… but how?

Breathing heavily through his nostrils, Groose kept his eyes trained on his enemy as he slowly circled him, taking care to stay just out of range. The lizard had brought the ball back up in the air and was slowly spinning it in circles as it regarded him through the darkened slits of its helmet. The lizards along the perimeter were silent as they watched their leader do battle. A breeze gusted through the clearing again, and Groose could feel the sweat beaded up on his arms and face, the clumps of dirt that stuck to him drying uncomfortably.

There had to be a way to do this… Come on, Groose, you're a better rugby player than this. Trusting in his inner athlete had gotten him this far, and it could get him further, he just had to focus…

Without warning, the monster swung the ball again, this time overhead, and Groose hastily scrambled out of the way. A crater formed in the ground where it struck, exactly where Groose had been standing, and a tiny explosion of dust got caught in the breeze and fluttered away. The monster stepped forward even as Groose struggled to reposition himself, tugging the ball toward him and sliding the chain through his hand, shortening the length. Before it reached him he turned and swung his arm back, bring the ball back into its orbiting rotation, the range longer than before though not at full length, as the monster slowly began advancing on Groose. It was done playing games, it seemed, and it was eager now to chase him down and be done with it.

Think, Groose! Think! There had to be some way to win this, some way to turn things to his favor! Turning, he hurled the axe at the monster with all his might and watched to his dismay as it sailed a good three paces off course, striking the front of the castle and shattering the blade. Some of the lizards began their raspy laughter again.

Leaping back, Groose dodged a risky swipe of the chainball and picked up one of the chunks of pillar he'd been hurling about earlier. He threw it at the lizard, but though this one sailed true the monster calmly sidestepped the throw, turning the movement into another attack with the steel ball. This one missed Groose by several feet, but instead slammed into one of the larger chunks of pillar that were lying in the clearly, smashing it into hundreds of tiny pieces. Groose grimaced; he knew what it was doing. It was destroying his ammunition so he couldn't fight back. He may have dodged the smaller piece, but if Groose had been able to get to a larger section of pillar and throw it, it would have been much more difficult to evade. That, and it might have interrupted the swinging of the chainball, thus providing Groose with an opening. Goddesses, he was so stupid! Why hadn't he thought of doing that earlier?!

Too late, Groose realized he was being backed into a corner. There weren't any chunks of stone for him to throw here or discarded weapons to wield. Nothing for him to do but wait until there was no more room to dodge and he was smashed against the wall like a cockroach. Was there really no way out of this? He was the captain of the rugby team, he was conditioned to think on his feet, to overcome enemy plays, to turn defeats into victories at the last second! He was a good athlete- no, a great athlete! Why couldn't he do this?!

Unbidden, Marin's voice bubbled up to the forefront of his mind again.

'There's got to be more to you than just sports, Groose. I refuse to believe you're nothing more than a jock. That's like… that's like… like a song that only has a melody! It's boring! You have to have other parts to make up the harmony…'

Well that was certainly unhelpful. Was there more to Groose than just sports? Sure. He was a fairly decent carpenter thanks to all the times he'd been forced to work with his dad, but that was hardly going to help him out here. It's not like he had an abundance of wood and the time and tools needed to create anything even remotely helpful against a human cannon.

He also secretly loved physics, but science wasn't going to be his saving grace here. Sure, a clever physicist could probably come up with a hundred hypothetical scenarios involving what is essentially a weaponized pendulum, but again, Groose was out of time and supplies. He had no time to think, no tools to craft a magical solution out of-

He glanced down at his gloves.

Tools… Magical solutions… The gloves, they gave him incredible strength, but only if he was pushing or pulling. If he could somehow bait the lizard into hurling the ball at him at its full length, maybe he could catch it and tear it from his grasp… He could turn this whole fight around…

He almost stepped forward to give it a try when the practical, intelligent side began warring with the athlete. Sure, from a purely scientific standpoint, it could work, but only because the gloves seemed to cancel out inertia. If Groose managed to push against the ball as it came at him, or catch it perfectly in his hands, the magic that removed weight and made him strong would cancel out the force of the blow and leave him without injury. If. If he managed to do it just perfectly right.

The thing of it was, where the scientist in him knew it could work on paper, the athlete knew that nothing worked out like the plan said it should. Plays rarely went exactly as planned. There were so many variables that Groose couldn't account for, so many things he simply didn't know about the gloves to correctly strategize about, that to try would be foolhardy. If he messed up, if his timing was wrong, if his grip slipped, if the ball touched any other part of his body, he'd be crushed or seriously injured. No, trying to catch the ball would be too difficult. As good as he was at rugby, this was not a rugby ball. It was larger, heavier, and it could kill him. The ball was the problem… The ball was everything…

The ball was going to be the death of him. Funny, that a rugby player would come to fear a ball. But there it was, cruel irony. He'd thrown away everything to be good at sports and make a new life for himself, and what did it get him? Death by a ball. Maybe he should have focused on physics and just been a nerd.

But without the sports, how could he have survived against the lizards for this long? It was only his improved reflexes and physical fitness that had seen him last this far. Or when he'd wrangled that giant bird and saved Marin? Or when he'd held up the moon with that mask? None of that would have been possible if Groose hadn't worked so hard at rugby for this past year and been at his peak physical condition. So being an athlete was the way to go after all, and he was right to forego the science and carpentry he loved…

But then he wouldn't have made it this far either. Without the physics and carpentry, he'd never have survived Clock Town. Sure, he made a mess of things in the end, but it had gained him and Midna valuable information they'd have never gleaned otherwise that resulted in them eventually saving the day and escaping.

Did any of this even matter? He wasn't a physicist. He wasn't a carpenter. He wasn't even a rugby player. He was just a high school idiot, trying to be cool, wanting to fit in, stuck in a nightmare of magic and death. Why did he care so much about who he was? Once he was dead, would any of that even matter?

His back bumped against the wall. He was cornered. This was it.

Did any of it matter?

It mattered to him, he decided. Who was he?

Harmony…

As the chorus of hisses grew louder, the lizards forming the circle sensing the end of the game about to come, Groose's gaze zeroed in on the chainball that was about to kill him.

The ball.

The athlete in him cared about the ball. Games always centered around them.

The physicist cared about the ball. It was the weight of the pendulum, the center of mass.

The carpenter…

The carpenter didn't care about the ball. It was just another piece. So was the chain. So was the creature holding it.

Groose's eyes grew wide.

With a savage snarl, the lizard jerked his arm forward and hurled the chainball at Groose, the weapon coming in at a sharp angle from the left. Breathless, Groose surged forward.

The monster apparently hadn't expected Groose to have any fight left in him, but he seemed unconcerned with Groose charging him down. After all, he'd proven before just how fast he could reclaim the ball once he'd thrown it, and Groose couldn't possibly hope to close the distance between them before he did.

Groose didn't care; he could have his ball back.

A second before the ball crashed into the wall, Groose made it to the middle of the chain and spun to a halt, his back to the weapon, arms extended, and seized the chain in either hand. With a roar, he jerked his right arm forward, pulling it around to meet his left which remained still, securing the portion of the chain held by the lizard. The chain wrapped around Groose's back, his body forming the new pivot point upon which the pendulum swung, the ball sailing through the air along the new course that Groose was directing. A grin of wicked triumph split across his face as he locked eyes with the lizard.

Desperately, it tried to tug the chain free of Groose's hand but before the magically enhanced strength of the gauntlet it was useless, and before the monster could react the ball slammed into his side, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying several paces backwards where he rolled across the ground and eventually came to a halt, exploding into dust just like his underlings.

Silence reigned in the clearing for a moment as the lizards stared in shock at the space their leader had fallen. Groose stayed where he was, chain held in both hands and wrapped around his back, the ball lying on the ground a little ways in front of him and to his left. Surprise was flooding through him that his crazy last-second plan had worked, but at the same time… he wasn't that surprised. If he had been focusing, he might have seen that solution all along. It would never have worked without the gauntlets, sure, but still. He was pretty proud of himself. Of all of himself. The athlete, the carpenter, and the physicist. Even the hot-headed teenage boy.

After all, he was never really one or the other. He was just too thick to see it 'til now.

One of the lizards broke ranks and brandished its weapon, letting out a cry of challenge and revenge. Its comrades joined, and as one the remaining two dozen or so lizards charged forward to avenge their fallen leader.

Groose snorted in contempt.

The ball lifted up into the air as though it weighed no more than a kite. Twirling it high over his head, Groose turned and swung it through the ranks of lizards who'd been standing in front of the castle doors, crushing bones and sending reptilian bodies flying. Without missing a beat, he turned and swung the ball high overhead for one quick rotation before sending it careening through the lizards who'd been blocking the gate.

In seconds, he'd cut the number of enemies in two. He was starting to really like this ball and chain. They made the perfect combo with his gauntlets.

Hey, what do you know; another harmony.

Turning, he swung the ball high overhead and brought it crashing down in the middle of the cluster of lizards approaching from the left side of the castle, killing two outright and sending several others flying. Yanking the ball back, he caught it and spun around, swinging it close range like a mace into the final group of monsters, shattering a shield like it was made of plastic and dropping almost the entire group.

One of the lizards who'd survived from the last cluster managed to sneak up from behind, but Groose was faster; he dodged the blow of the sword and, unable to bring the heavy ball up at such close range, lashed out with the free end of the chain, wrapping it around the arm the held the weapon. Catching it in his free hand, he gave the chain a tug from both side and with a sickening pop the arm was torn off, spurting blue blood all over the ground.

The lizard screamed and Groose kicked it over, yanking the ball back to him and turning to face the rest of the clearing.

No other lizards remained. He could see what looked like the retreating forms of two vanishing out among the darkened pillars. Groose scoffed and let the chainball fall to the ground. Well, looks like his work was done here…

Oh, the screaming lizard. Contemptuous, he gave the ball one last vertical twirl and slammed it into the creature's head. There was silence.

Groose sighed, feeling drained. His shoulder still hurt, not nearly as badly as it had before, though the stinging of his rib that he'd been ignoring now came back with a vengeance. He was lucky he got out of this alive and without a scratch. Even better, he found a weapon. Nodding approvingly, he hefted the chainball off the dirt, grimaced at the sooty smears of monster dust that covered it, and decided to let it drag in the dirt for a while 'til he could clean it off somewhere. The river, maybe?

Which reminded him. Now that he'd killed everything, he could take the bridge and cross over to the other side of the river where Marin had been traveling. Maybe he'd find some clue as to where she went. Nodding to himself, he gathered up the rest of the chain, draped it over his arm where he'd kept the rope, and walked through the gate of the nameless castle, a small smile forming on his lips.

Things were looking up.

---

The wind gusted forlornly across the silent, dark landscape, picking at the dried branches of withered bushes and kicking up the occasional dust cloud. The wind tugged at Marin's bright red hair, combing through it like ghostly fingers as it danced in the wind, making the edges of her sundress flutter. The bottom of her skirt was still a little damp from fording the river and the breeze sent a chill through her legs and bare arms, but she paid it no mind. The wind had been her only companion for the last little while. She wasn't going to complain.

She wasn't sure for how long she'd been sitting there in the dirt. Her dress must be filthy by now, but she didn't care. She'd lost track of time after leaving Pierre and Bonaroo, and everything from the moment she'd discovered Groose was gone felt like a dull blur.

She'd wandered through the darkness, following the river to its source, never straying from her path unless it was to avoid anything that looked like a building along the river's bank. She met no one else along her journey, fought no more monsters, had no more random musical encounters, and saw no sign of Groose anywhere. If he had run, it hadn't been ahead. If he hadn't run… but no, he had to have run, or else…

She took a great, shuddering breath and looked up from her feet. From her position on top of the rise, she had a good view of the surrounding valley. Up ahead, mountains sprang up out of the ground like weeds forming a natural wall that extended for miles in either direction. They looked to be too steep to climb, but that didn't concern her much; there would be no climbing, no more pointless wandering. She'd found the river's source.

At the foot of the mountains Marin could just make out a small, dark cave exactly where the river and the veritable wall of rock met. It was still dark out, but the clouds were thinning and the presence of the moon shining brilliantly overhead illuminated the grounds like an enormous night light. It wasn't enough to see very clearly, but the land around her was flat and empty, and the river glowed like a silver serpent, bathing in the light of the moon. She could see enough, enough to know where she had to go.

So why was she still sitting here?

She drew her knees up to her chest, ignoring the way the loose dirt pooled into her flats as she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. The breeze still chilled her, but it didn't bother her as much in this position. At her side, her bag full of discarded musical instruments sat forgotten in the dirt, the strap still wrapped around her shoulder. She hadn't touched it since she'd left the music box house, not even to play Flat's song and bring the sun back out. For the first time in her life, she didn't want to play any music. She felt hollow inside, worn and frayed. Her stupid fixation on music was the reason Groose was gone. Her pride, her ego, her need to prove she was the best… Why hadn't they focused on escaping the museum and saving their friends instead? Why had she let them get so sidetracked on something that honestly didn't matter?!

As she buried her face in her knees, feeling the beginnings of another wave of self-loathing and shame washing over her, something new flared to life in her breast. It was hot and fiery and positively livid. Anger. She was mad. Mad at herself for acting this way.

What would Groose say if he was here right now and he saw you acting like this?! Her inner voice snarled contemptuously. He would tell you to get up off the ground and keep moving! The game isn't over yet, you can still make a play and win this thing, but not if you sit on the ground like a lump and quit!

But Groose isn't here to tell me that, is he?! She wailed in response, feeling her shoulders start to quake. I… I drove him off, or I killed him, or… or… How can I go on after this? How can I ever play another song again when all I'll ever think of is him and what I did to him?!

So you win it for him! The voice shouted back, volume rising in intensity. He wasn't forced into following you against his will, he did it because he wanted to help and he understood what it's like to want to be the best! So don't give up now after all he did for you! That would be disrespectful! He was your friend!

Was he my friend? She whispered back quietly, raising her tear-stained cheeks to look out over the dark valley once again. Was I ever really his?

Swallowing thickly, Marin scrubbed the back of her hand across her face a few times and hastily pushed herself to her feet, needing a moment to steady herself on wobbly legs. Her internal debate hadn't exactly built up a fire in her, but she was right in the sense that she couldn't keep sitting here moping forever. Whether or not she became a master didn't really seem relevant anymore (honestly, she doubted she'd ever be able to think of herself as one even if she did pass Flat's test), but the sooner she got this done, the sooner she could set off finding the others and helping them escape. Linebeck was still in here, after all, as were Aryll and Midna and Sheik and Ralph… Maybe she'd be of more use to them than she had been to Groose.

She shivered as another breeze passed by, then resolutely she dug a flute out of her purse. Steeling herself, she held the instrument up to her lips, took a deep breath, and hesitated.

A moment passed by, then she bit her lip and tried again.

Finally, after her third try, she managed a squeaky note that wavered hesitantly in the air before fading away. Growling at herself for how emotional she was being, she tried her best to shove all thoughts of Groose away from her mind and forced herself to play the Sun Song.

It came out with many a squeak and warble, but at least she managed to play it. Nothing happened, however; the sky remained dark, the moon glowing resolutely overhead.

For a moment, she thought it was because of how poorly she'd played and struggled within herself to get her emotions under control, but then she remembered- this wasn't a regular song, it was a magic song. She had to do what Flat said. She had to play it as though commanding the very sky itself to obey her. She needed emotion to do that, she needed to put her whole heart into the melody.

But how could she put her whole heart into something when it was broken?

She stared at her flute for a moment, searching within her for some scrap of emotion that wasn't grief but found nothing but sorrow within. Well, when all you have is a hammer… She thought to herself dully, raising the flute to her lips and taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Groose." She whispered to the wind, feeling another tear leak out of her eyes, the flute pressed against her bottom lip, and she played.

She played to the moon. She played so that it heard her, so that it understood how she felt. How she needed this night to end so she could move on. She put every last ounce of guilt and pain she had into those few, simple notes, and when she opened her eyes, she was blinded by the light.

The sun shone dramatically overhead, the rays of light stabbing into Marin's pupils, making her eyes water painfully. Raising a hand to ward off the afternoon glow, she peered cautiously around the valley to see that nothing had changed. Still the same boring landscape, the same sparse smattering of dead bushes, the same half-dry river snaking off to her right towards the same wall of mountains. The same small, dark cave just barely visible there at the end. The same silence. The same loneliness.

The breeze was warm now, however, and seemed to spur her onward. Maybe it was Groose's way of forgiving her and telling her to go on. Or maybe she was over thinking things and the wind was only wind. Regardless, she dried her cheeks one last time, cleared her throat, and moved on.

She half walked, half slid down the hillside and into the valley, following the river's course from a good twenty feet away from the dried bed, her purse bouncing off her hip with every step, her gaze kept low. Now that the sun was out, it was as if she was waking from a dream. Groose was still gone, but she seemed to be accepting it better in the daylight and she allowed her thoughts to focus on what was coming. It wouldn't take her long to reach the cave from which the river flowed; there was probably a spring or something inside, drawing the water from underground. What was it exactly she was looking for? Flat had said she'd find the Master up ahead, and that she'd be judged, but… Wasn't he the Master? Would he be waiting for her in the cave? Or would it be his famous brother, Sharp the Elder? Hadn't he said they'd had a rift? She wondered if they'd made up yet… They'd certainly had enough time.

Several minutes later, perhaps a half an hour tops, found Marin approaching the mountain wall and the cave that was her destination. The sun was pulling low, meaning it was probably around three-ish in the afternoon, and the entire mountain face was illuminated a bright orange-brown. It actually kind of hurt Marin's eyes to look at. Squinting uncomfortably, she tilted her head down and kept her gaze on her toes. Goddesses, what she wouldn't give to have her sunglasses with her-

Something clicked somewhere up above her and she frowned, tilting her head up, squinting with one eye and keeping the other one closed. What was that sound? It sounded… almost like a crab. Like a big crab. But where would she find a big crab here in the middle of this dry-?

A figure moved on the mountain face, the color of its rocky carapace blending in perfectly with the ochre colored stone, and the moment Marin's one open eye landed on it, its one massive eye landed on her.

She screamed.

The creature, the monster, whatever it was, was enormous. Roughly twice the size of your standard trampoline, it looked like the demented love child of a crab, a cyclops, and a pancake. Literally, its body was just one singular, circular, flat section of exoskeleton with dozens of pitch black spindly legs sticking out from every direction. It had no arms or tails or wings or anything else- just legs, its body segment, and one truly enormous eyeball that made up the entirety of the top half of its body.

The monsters single, giant grey iris flitted towards her, its pupil dilating violently, and with a clatter of staccato footsteps it began surging down the mountainside towards her with all the ferocity of an avalanche, eye growing ominously wide.

Marin stumbled back and made as though to flee, then stopped. She couldn't run from this- her goal was just up ahead, she needed to find a way passed this eyeball freak and into the cave or else everything she and Groose had been fighting for would be for naught. Chewing her lip, Marin turned back and stood her ground, digging the Wind Waker out of her bag and holding herself at the ready, baton held aloft as though waiting for the crowd to grow silent so she could begin her next musical number.

Once it grew close enough, the monster leapt off the mountainside and landed with a heavy crash about ten yards in front of her. Weirdly enough, she found herself admiring its eyelashes for a moment. Honestly, for a disgusting nightmare monstrosity of impossible proportions, it had some long, lovely eyelashes. Its eyelids, however, were covered in odd-looking growths that didn't seem to serve any purpose other than to gross her out. Seriously, how did a giant eyeball with legs even exist? How did it eat? How did it breathe? Did she even want the answers to those questions?

A better question might be how would she fight this thing. It was too big to knock around with the wind, and since she'd never quite been able to duplicate that tiny ball of lightning thing she'd accidentally done on the pirate ship with Linebeck, she had no actual weapon… But maybe it didn't matter. It was giant eyeball, and she had no shortage of dirt. Maybe all she needed to do was blind it with a good dust storm…

The monster advanced on her steadily; its pace wasn't exactly fast, but it was so large and had so many feet that it didn't matter. It was like watching a train begin chugging straight towards her; it didn't speed up or slow down but she knew that it would run her right over without even feeling it. Twirling the baton like a whisk, she aimed a funnel of wind at the ground and whipped up a miniature tornado of dirt into the air and directed it at the eyeball with a small surge of smugness flowing through her. So this thing thought she would be easy meat, huh…

The dust collided with the eyeball, the dirty spraying audibly off the massive ocular organ, and yet the creature didn't even blink. It was like its eye was made of the same rock-hard substance the rest of its skin was made of. This just got a whole lot harder.

Blanching, Marin dove down and sprinted away around the cyclops, turning around and feeling her gut drop out as the creature turned to follow without missing a beat. Right, legs all around the outside of its body… Running away from this thing wasn't going to be easy either… Think, Marin, think!

Maybe she could somehow force enough air up underneath it to flip it over? She didn't know how she'd manage that, but it was worth a shot. It's not like she had any better ideas. Twirling the baton in large circles, she began gathering as much wind as she could in a cyclone above her head as she ran, waiting for the right opening, conscious of the fact that the monster was gaining on her as the clicking of its spindly feet grew steadily closer from behind…

"Hey freakshow, behind you!" A loud, familiar voice called out from behind.

Marin forgot what she was doing. Forgot the monster chasing her, forgot the fact that if she stopped moving she'd be crushed, forgot the cyclone of wind she was trying to build up above her in order to attack. The moment those loud, brash, arrogant words reached her ears she skidded to a halt, eyes flying wide, and twirled around violently, her neck muscles flaring in pain at the sudden, jerky movement.

To her surprise, the monster seemed just as taken aback by the newcomer as she was, and as she turned, it turned its eyeball as well (its eyelids seemed to be squinting slightly; had the dust finally irritated them?), and all three eyes focused on the same thing- a silvery flash of light that was flying straight towards them. Or more specifically, towards the monster.

With a boom like canon fire, the silvery blur smashed into the side of the monster's eye with incredible force, knocking it off balance and sending it crashing, dazed, into the ground. Marin stared at it for a moment, stunned, before looking down at the shining metal object that had saved her. It looked like a giant steel ball, slightly larger than a basketball, studded with spikes and attached to a thick, segmented chain. She let her eyes follow the gleaming metal as it slithered across the ground to the hands that was holding it; large gauntleted hands that were deftly reeling the massive chunk of metal back in. Up her eyes moved along the muscular arm to the barrel like chest and then, finally, they landed upon the familiar determined face of Groose Loft.

When she met his golden gaze, he flashed her a crooked grin and hollered, "'Sup, band geek. Am I late?"

She felt her legs give out. A moment later, she was kneeling in the dirt, clutching the Wind Waker to her abdomen, taking heaving gulps of air through her mouth as she drank in the form of the large male before her. Groose… Groose was alive… He was alive… She hadn't killed him…

Tears began flowing down her cheeks again, but this time she didn't care. He was ok… They were both ok…

Groose, it seemed, mistook the sight of her overcome with emotion at his surprise reappearance as an injury or something, because a second later he was at her side, pulling her back to her feet and tilting her face up to meet his, peering nervously into her eyes.

"Whoa now, hey, you ok? You feelin' dizzy or weak or anything? Did it get you before I could get here? Sorry, I didn't think I was gonna catch up to you so fast, but I was walkin' down by the river when I heard you scream, and-"

"You're alive." She choked out, grabbing at the front of his shirt to steady herself, feeling a stupid smile bubbling across her face.

"Uh… yeah?" he half-stated, half-questioned, putting on his trademark look of blank stupefaction.

"You're alive!" she repeated, practically screaming euphorically and all but launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and nearly knocking him backwards into the dirt. He stayed on his feet, however (of course he did, he was a rugby player; he probably got tackled harder than that multiple times a day), and soon reciprocated the embrace, chuckling nervously over the sounds of Marin's manic giggling.

"Uh, yeah… I'm alive, I… Wait, why shouldn't I be alive?"

Marin pulled away regretfully, noting the distinct red in Groose's cheeks.

"I don't know, you were just gone! We were fighting the mummies, I knocked you into that pillar, you vanished under the rubble, and when I came back to get you, you were gone! I thought… I thought the mummies had eaten you or else you'd ran away, or-!"

"Ran away?" Groose cut in, frowning heavily. "The Groose doesn't run away from nuthin'-"

"I know." She reassured him quickly, feeling another dopey smile nearly split her face in two. "Believe me Groose, I know, I just didn't want to believe you were dead-"

"Well I'm not dead." He harrumphed emphatically, placing his fists on his hips and staring down at her with a particularly fierce scowl. "One second we were battlin' zombies or whatever and the next, I wake up in the middle of the night in the river on the bottom of the cliff-"

"It wasn't night time, I just made the sun go down with Flat's song. And you were in the river! Ugh, I must've knocked you in there by accident and then you washed downstream before I could find you! How did you know where I was?"

"Pierre told me you'd gone on without me. I climbed back up the cliff by stabbing him with my-"

"Pierre told you?! How did he find you, I thought they couldn't move-"

"They can't, but that dumb song they taught us is actually-"

"You played a song?! Without anyone making you?! Groose, I'm so proud!"

"Oh sure, you get excited about that-"

The sound of shifting dirt brought both teens back to the present, and they turned in unison to find the giant eyeball crab climbing unsteadily back to his feet. He seemed a little dazed, yet no less worse for the wear. There wasn't even a mark where Groose's massive spiked ball had struck him.

"Oh right, this guy." Groose grunted, taking a few steps back and readying his newfound weapon. "Who is he and why is he tryin' to kill you?"

"Oh, I don't know." Marin replied glumly, brandishing her mostly useless baton and putting some distance between herself and the crab. "Why do any monsters want to kill us? Anyway, the cave we're going to is just up ahead, so this guy's probably a guard or something."

"Right. Well, we didn't do so well against those mummies earlier. I guess we should be glad we get a chance to redeem ourselves, right?"

And with one last cocky wink sent in her direction, Groose ran forward bellowing a loud war cry, twirling the massive spiked ball above his head like a medieval flail and slinging it at the monster, sending it stumbling a few steps backwards.

Marin noticed the way its eye seemed to flinch again just before the chainball struck and frowned. Was it afraid of the massive ball of steel Groose was hurling at it? That would make sense normally, but the monster didn't seem to be particularly affected by it. It'd stumble backwards, maybe, but its carapace never showed even a scratch from where he struck it. She danced back a few more steps to give Groose more room and watched in amazement as he hurled the heavy metal ball at the monster and then immediately yanked it back, sometimes catching it in one hand, sometimes simply turning and swinging it back up in the air to twirl around for a second before unleashing another blow. She had no idea how Groose was pulling this off; she knew he was strong, but Din…

He was losing ground, however. Every time he struck, the monster stumbled back a step, but he gained three times the distance before Groose could land another blow, even with how fast he was moving. No matter where Groose hit it, it didn't seem to be taking any damage- not on the legs, not on its weirdly flat body, not on its eye… In fact, the eye was the only part that seemed to be reacting at all to Groose, wincing ever so slightly every time Groose chucked the ball in its direction. Maybe he was doing some damage? If so, she couldn't see how…

Groose hollered again before he released his next shot and a light bulb went off in her head. It wasn't flinching because Groose was attacking… it was flinching because he was shouting.

At first glance that didn't make sense either. It was a giant monster, and it didn't even have any ears. Why would someone shouting bother it at all? But then, everything she'd done so far on this quest had involved music or sound in some way. The frogs, the scarecrows, the mummies... There had to be something music related going on here, but what? Was there a specific song she was supposed to play, or…?

It didn't matter. Groose was losing too much ground, and they needed a new strategy. Replacing the Wind Waker with a random flute, Marin held it up to her lips and played the loudest, shrillest sound she could muster.

Groose faltered, letting the ball drop as he hastily clamped his hands over his ears, shooting her a bewildered look, but she kept her eyes trained on the monster. Silently, it flailed under the influence of Marin's flute, its legs writhing, its body rocking back and forth spastically, its eyelids squeezed shut, tears leaking out of the corners. Somehow, impossibly, its weakness was sound… Now how did they use this to their advantage?

"Marin!" Groose hollered as he jogged closer, the spiked ball dragging in the dirt behind him. "What are you doin'?! You're making my ears bleed!"

She let the note die and shot Groose a terse look.

"Look at the monster and watch how it reacts when I play my flute. I think it's weak to sounds."

"Weak to sounds?!" He spluttered incredulously. "It's a freakin' eyeball-!"

"I know! Just…! Just watch and try to hit it while it's preoccupied!"

The monster was already rallying and bearing down on the teens by the time Marin played the note again. This time it nearly toppled over, thrashing silently on the dirt as Marin blew her hardest into the flute. Goddesses, if only she hadn't let that zombie robot pirate destroy that other flute she'd had, the one that played that note that made your brain want to explode… well, she'd make do with what she had.

Catching Groose's amazed eye, she gave a curt nod, and he grimaced. Hefting the ball and chain, he gave a few quick loops over his head and hurled the heavy weapon at the defenseless monster with all his might.

It struck the monster in the eye, and, to Marin's total abject horror, the entire thing ruptured like an overripe melon. Bright green liquid exploded everywhere, showering her and Groose in filth, and as the two shouted in outrage and disgust, the massive monster collapsed to the ground.

"Oh, sick…"

"Ew." Marin agreed, wiping her mouth off on her sleeve. She could hear the sound of Groose spitting somewhere over to her right. Shaking her head and wondering how bad she looked and how she'd ever get this gunk out of her hair, she peered up at the location the monster had been standing.

It was down, its legs still, the place where its eye had been nothing more than a mass of squishy mystery body part that she felt no desire to inspect. Even as she watched, however, the body vanished in a whirl of black smoke. Thankfully, the guts that covered her and Groose vanished as well. In the space of a heartbeat, the two were alone.

"…Well that was lame." Groose commented bluntly, setting his weapon down on the dirt and turning to face his comrade with a triumphant grin. "Seriously, those mummies were more of a challenge. Nayru, even those lizard dudes I took down over in that castle put up more of a fight than this."

The relief of having Groose by her side again washed over her like a warm tide and she smiled as she walked closer to him.

"Lizard dudes?"

"Long story." He grunted, winding the loose chain around his shoulder but letting the heavy steel ball drag across the ground. She noted the grapple hook threaded through his belt and tucked into his waistband. "I ran into some trouble lookin' for you, but I dealt with it. I took this sweet weapon from them too. Heh, I'm almost as cool as the Hero of Time now."

Marin smiled, content to stand there and watch him fiddle with his chain until his grin grew awkward and he began looking around uncomfortably.

"Uh… You ok?"

"Yeah." She replied softly, feeling that lump of guilt crawl its way back up her throat. "Thank you for coming back for me."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Well duh. I wasn't about to leave you here. We gotta finish your music thing, right? Make you a master or whatever? What's gotten into you? You're bein' weird…"

She shrugged, averting her gaze and feeling her shame color her cheeks.

"Nothing, I just…" She let out a weary sigh and rubbed at her eyes tiredly. "I just want to say sorry… I guess… I mean, I drag you on this dumb quest just to make me happy and then you almost die and have to fight off lizards and run all over the freaking countryside to save me, and-"

"Whoa." Groose cut in, looking stern. "I never 'almost died', alright, I just fell in the river-"

"Yes, but I thought you did!" She blurted out, surprised at the way her voice cracked and her eyes stung. Groose gaped at her, jaw slack, and she averted her gaze again, feeling embarrassed.

"Look, I… I thought you were hurt or dead or had ran away because you were mad at me for knocking you through that pillar, and I've just felt so guilty… I mean I hardly even know you, what right do I have to go dragging you around on this stupid adventure? We're supposed to be focusing on getting out of here, not… not my stupid music thing. I just… I'm sorry, ok?"

There was silence in the valley for a moment as Marin stared at the ground, struggling to regain control of herself, and Groose stared at her like she was some alien creature he was just seeing for the first time. Finally, he let out a sigh and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with obvious discomfort.

"Hey, uh… Listen… You don't need to go feelin' bad about what happened to me, alright? We were both runnin' around like headless chickens when those zombies popped up. Accidents happen, ok? We should just be grateful we're even alive. And… I dunno about this 'hardly even know me' business. I mean, I get that I didn't really know you existed until I saved you from that bird, but… I mean…"

His cheeks suddenly flared an unexpected red.

"You… You're like… my friend, I guess. I mean, I feel comfortable around you. Even more than I do around my other friends. D-don't laugh, ok?!"

She blinked at the intensity of the look he gave her, and she shook her head quickly.

"I'm not laughing… Wait, you really… You really think of me as a friend?"

It was his turn to look surprised. "Well, yeah. Of course I do. Heck, I don't think I've laughed this much in a long time. You're easy to be around. I guess I don't feel like I have to impress you like my other friends."

Marin frowned. "Why would you have to impress your other friends?"

He shot her an unreadable look, and for a moment she thought he wasn't going to answer, but finally he sighed and scratched his head, looking despondent.

"Well I guess Midna already knows, so it's not really a secret… Look, I… I lied before. When you asked me what I was into, and I said I was one-hundred percent jock? Well… That's not really true. See, before I moved here, I was kinda… a dork. My dad's a carpenter, and my family's real poor. When we moved here, I decided I wanted my senior year of high school to be perfect, y'know? Like, I had a chance to reinvent myself, so I took it… And I tried my best to be a cool jock, the kind everyone likes and respects, ya know? The truth is, I love carpentry. I love building things with my hands, and I'm pretty good at it too. Ask Midna about the catapult we built in Clock Town when we get out of here, it was incredible. I'm pretty good at math, too. Physics is my best subject in school. But I've been tryin' to hide all that this year so people didn't start judging me like they did before, or start thinkin' I'm some kinda nerd."

He shrugged, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. "I guess it's all kinda stupid now that I say it out loud. Like, cheesy high school drama clichés and whatnot. Eh, whatever… I guess I learned my lesson. After all, songs with only melodies are boring, right?"

He smirked at her and she flushed. Oh… she'd forgotten she called him that.

Still, here was a whole new side of Groose she hadn't seen before… it didn't really make sense, though. Cocking her head to the side, she asked softly, "But… Why did you think you had to try so hard to be cool? Ordon's not such a bad place. I've only been here a week and I already feel like I've made a couple friends."

Groose snorted derisively. "Oh come on, Marin, don't tell me you don't feel excluded too. Everyone else in our year had to deal with all that nonsense that happened last year and it's like they're in this special club now. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm not sayin' I wish I was part of it too, but like… I dunno, because I wasn't involved in the shooting it's like I've been branded an outsider, y'know? Like I've had to work twice as hard at being accepted. Don't you feel it too?"

Actually, yes, she did. Maybe she didn't feel it as acutely as Groose did since she wasn't trying so hard to reinvent herself like he was and hadn't been there as long, but she definitely got the vibe there in her first week of classes that she wasn't exactly 'one of them'. Not that anyone was mean to her or treated her different, but there was a look they got in their eyes whenever something related to the shooting came up, and the students who were a part of it would exchange these furtive, knowing looks… She was grateful that she hadn't been a part of that particular nightmare, but sometimes it made her feel left out. It was silly, and absurd, but there it was.

Marin sighed, fiddling with the flute in her hand. Even with that particular barrier, however, Marin had still made friends who seemed to like her for her. She never felt like she had to put up a front for anybody like Groose had to. She had Medli and Makar from orchestra, then Link after he'd saved her life, and Sheik and Midna were so nice, and Aryll seemed fun, and Linebeck who was almost like a cool uncle…

And now, she had Groose.

Stepping closer, she put her hand on his shoulder and smiled up at him when he looked at her in confusion.

"Y'know Groose… I think maybe the reason you feel so excluded is because you've been trying so hard to be something you're not."

He scoffed. "Look, I know I said I secretly like math and junk, but I am still a jock. I wasn't lyin' about loving sports."

"I know." She replied. "But that's not all you are. If you'd let everyone else see that from the beginning, I think you would have found yourself fitting in better. I think you'd have made friends- real friends- in no time. There's a lot about the real you to like."

He snorted. "Yeah? And why d'you say that?"

She shrugged. "Well, I like you."

He stared at her for a moment, his face flaming scarlet, before he jerked his head away, mumbling something under his breath.

She giggled, reaching out and pulling him into a sideways hug. "You know, I think you're right. I don't think I've ever laughed as much as I have since I met you."

He fended her off with a short chuckle. "Yeah yeah, whatever. This is getting' sappy…"

At that, she laughed out loud.

"It's been sappy! Were you not paying attention to this whole conversation?!"

"Well whose fault is that?!"

"Yours!"

"What?! No way!"

"Yes way!" She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, and he shoved her away in response.

"Whatever, music freak. We're wasting time. Are we gonna finish this dumb test of yours or not?"

"Absolutely!" She cheered, finally feeling like she was back to her old self. She punched her fist into the air dramatically and called out, "Forward, march!"

Chuckling to himself, Groose followed her lead without question, though the two continued playfully shoving and verbally jabbing each other all the way to the mouth of the cave as if they'd been best friends all their lives.

They didn't stop until they noticed the shimmering figure floating in the air before the cave's entrance.

"So," Came the familiar drawl of the ghost of Flat the Younger, his form barely visible in the brilliant afternoon sun. "You yet live, do you?"

Marin and Groose exchanged significant looks. Well, this was it then… the end of their journey. Nodding his head, Groose silently told her to take the lead; this was her quest, after all.

Clearing her throat, Marin stepped closer and met Flat's verdant, fiery gaze with a level look of her own.

"Yes. We've passed your test and here we are. Now admit that I'm a master."

"What are you blathering about?" Flat sneered imperiously. "Your test hasn't even begun yet. It waits for you within the cave behind me."

Marin stared. "But… But what about all the stuff we went through getting here? All those dumb musical puzzles I had to complete? The mummies, the scarecrows, the Sun Song…"

"Yeah, and what about those freaky lizard dudes in that castle?!" Groose butted in angrily. "Those things almost killed me!"

"And that eyeball crab we just took down!" Marin continued, feeling indignant. "If that wasn't part of my test then what was it?!"

Flat's ethereal gaze traveled between both teens for a silent moment before he shrugged and said, "I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about."

"Listen here, you little-!" Groose began threateningly, but Marin stuck out an arm and caught him by the chest, shooting him a dangerous look. He glowered at her, but stepped back, muttering murderously under his breath.

"Fine." She spat at Flat, feeling her irritation smoldering inside; not part of her test! Groose had almost died for no reason?! She could kill this little creep! Y'know… If he wasn't already dead. "So then what is my test, oh great Master?"

She made the title as scathing as she could manage.

His mustache twitched, but other than that he gave no sign that her tone affected him at all. Regarding her silently for a moment, he finally turned his back to the teens to face the cave and consider.

"…I did not lie. These… These trials you passed through, they do not relate to your test, not directly, and I did not know exactly what you would face in coming here… Yet I had to be sure that you possessed the fortitude for your true trial. I am confident now that you do, if you truly overcame the difficulties that were placed before you. For your test, for this last, great trial, you have but one goal… You must enter this cave a deliver a message for me to my brother, Sharp."

Marin blinked several times in confusion. So… all the stuff she and Groose had gone through did matter? Or it was like a measuring stick or something to show she was capable enough to pass the actual test? She was confused. Whatever, delivering a message didn't sound that hard, but if the day she'd had was any indication, nothing would ever be easy here.

Rather than tell him to deliver his own message like she wanted to, she collected herself and asked, calmly, what the message was.

"It is a song." Flat replied, still not looking at them. "A song of my own invention, a Song of Storms… I composed it myself after… after he betrayed me and all we stood for. It is a song of turbulence, of rage. When you see him, you must play my song, and when you do, tell him: the thousand years of raindrops summoned by my song are my tears. The thunder that strikes the earth is my anger! Tell him… that is all I ask of you."

Marin opened her mouth in surprise, but then hesitated and closed it. The Song of Storms… was this a magical song, like the Sun Song? When she played it would something happen? Was that the purpose of playing it for his brother? Did he hope that it would reconcile them in some way? Or was he just pouting and making her play the messenger in some silly sibling rivalry?

Regardless, the task itself didn't seem that difficult. Play a song for some ghost in a cave. Well, she'd do it. She'd come too far to turn back now.

When she agreed, Flat turned back to face her and she was surprised to see emotion on his face. It as anger, but… it was sorrow, too. A sort of heart-broken fury that should have looked comical on the ghost's sallow face, and yet… it didn't. As a matter of fact, she found herself oddly understanding him better in this moment than she ever had before; she had no siblings, but she knew what it was like to feel torn in two like that. It's how she'd felt for the better part of the afternoon when she thought she'd let her pride kill Groose, only the anger was directed at herself. To think she'd felt that strongly about a guy she'd only just met… how powerful must Flat's emotions be toward his own brother?

The song was longer than the Sun Song, but it wasn't difficult. Strangely enough, it almost felt like a waltz, only the song was a tad too jagged and short. She played it a few times under Flat's scrutiny just to be sure she had it down pat before he gave her a grudging nod of acceptance. She passed his standards, it would seem.

As the two teens moved to pass the almost invisible ghost and enter the cave, he stopped them one final time.

"Beware." He called out, his voice reedy and high but filled with caution. "Sharp does not brook intrusion lightly. He is… protective… of his domain. Darkness is his ally, and he will surely try to drag you down in it with him. My song may save you, but you must find a storm within yourself powerful enough to blow his curse away. Channel that into your music, and he will see that you have no cause to fear the dark."

Turning to ask him what he meant, she was surprised to find he was gone.

"Is it just me, or does all of this sorta make your skin crawl?" Groose asked from beside her. His hand had tightened on his chain and he was glaring into the darkness of the cave menacingly.

Marin nodded in silent agreement, but found herself wondering what she'd do in Flat's place.

"Do you have any siblings, Groose?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I'm an only child. You?"

"No…" She took a few steps closer to the cave. "I wonder what it must feel like to be betrayed by your brother."

"It probably sucks." Groose offered, frowning heavily. "If I were him, I'd want to get my revenge too."

Revenge? Is that what this was? Marin had her doubts. Regardless, standing out here was only wasting more time. Exchanging one last look with Groose and drawing courage from his own confidant nod, she adjusted her grip on her flute and stepped into the cave, her feet splashing in the shallow river.

The light vanished almost instantly, and yet she could still see. The cave wasn't deep at all; in fact, the house with the mummies may have been larger. Stalagmites and stalactites were illuminated in an eerie, violet glow, although there seemed to be no source of light that she could see. The water pooled around the center of the cave, the source of the spring, and in the middle sat what looked like a broken chunk of rock that had once extended from floor to ceiling, wide enough that it almost looked like a table or an altar in the middle of the dark pool of water. The water was cold against her legs and the skirt of her yellow sundress clung to her thighs in sodden clumps. Licking her lips, she turned to Groose, taking comfort in the fact that she wasn't alone. He was shooting the room a dubious look, but met her gaze and nodded again. He was staying right there.

A gust whispered past her, sending shivers down her spine and playing sounds throughout the cave as it whistled through the rock formations. It almost sounded like a chorus of voices hiding somewhere in the shadows. She felt the hair on her arms begin to rise.

"Who is this? What business have you here?" A voice demanded from out of the darkness. It was sharp and rough and seemed to resonate from every direction at once. Groose shifted uncomfortably at her side.

"This is no place for ones so full of life such as you." The voice continued in a coarse whisper, and Marin thought she saw something flicker out of the corner of her eye, only when she turned her head, she saw nothing.

"Or perhaps… you wish to join the dead? That is fine…"

A pressure seemed to exert itself on Marin then, as though a heavy blanket had been thrown over her shoulders. She staggered unexpectedly, but held her ground. Her foot brushed against something in the shallow water, and she turned down to see that she and Groose were surrounded by submerged skulls, the hollow gazes of which all seemed to be pointing to them.

Finally he appeared, floating above the broken chunk of rock, an ethereal figure so reminiscent of his brother Flat that for a moment she thought it was him. Only there were subtle differences; Sharp was shorter than his brother, stockier, and though both had flames where their eyes should have been, Flat's gaze was never so cold, so emotionless. Sharp's ghostly skin drew taught across his skull as he smiled, a baton held high, the golden Triforce insignia on his chest rusted and bloody.

"If that is the case, then sleep gently to the melody of darkness that the great composer brother Sharp shall play… and join the ranks of the dead."

The wind howled, the light grew dim, the skulls seemed to distort in the rippling water in some odd, macabre dance, and suddenly Marin was in pain. She gasped and sunk to her knees in the water, the pressure crushing her as what felt like thousands upon thousands of needles began burrowing into her flesh, into her mind. She grabbed wildly at the wall beside her, struggling to rise back onto her feet, but the pain… Light, but the pain…

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Groose on all fours, the tip of his pompadour dragging in the water as he struggled for breath, sweat glistening all over his body, his eyes wide and bloodshot. He was doing no better than she was. If they couldn't overcome this… If they didn't fight back…

Hopelessness overwhelmed her then and she had to throw every ounce of her willpower into making sure she continued to breathe. She could feel death coming, feel the icy breath the back of her neck… What was this? Goddesses, what was happening? This song, this melody of darkness Sharp was composing… it had no notes, no actual tune, no sound reached her ears over the howling of the wind, and yet the ground seemed to tremble in a steady bass dirge, her heart thudded to keep time, her panting breath mingled with Groose's to form the last harmony she'd ever hear on this earth… And as she looked at her friend, she felt that same burning sadness, that harrowing loathing, that had nearly consumed her when she thought she'd let him die, and she turned her gaze on Sharp, feeling her eyes burn.

Flat had told her to find a storm inside herself. Well she'd found it. She wouldn't die like this, and neither would Groose.

She couldn't bring herself to rise, but it didn't matter; crouched down pathetically, half-submerged in the river, Marin brought the flute to her lips and blew, the Song of Storms coming to her as easily as if she'd played it a hundred times. Though she could hardly hear the notes over the howling of the wind, she shoved every ounce of righteous anger she had into them, letting her fury mingle with Flat's, and a storm began to blow.

Sharp's fiery eyes widened in shock.

The wind changed. No longer did it seem to be pushing her and Groose backwards, dragging them into the river; now it surged wildly throughout the cave, creating a vortex like a hurricane with Sharp at the center. The ghost flinched as though struck, and suddenly rain was pelting Marin's skin, stinging like nettles against her exposed arms and cheeks. Stunned, she looked up at the cave's ceiling but saw no clouds. Where was the rain coming from? And how was it growing stronger?

The wind picked up and the rain intensified as a peal of thunder struck the air and the ground shook, light flashing from somewhere out of sight. The pressure that had engulfed her earlier suddenly vanished and Marin fought her way to her feet, feeling Groose do the same at her side as the two stared in awe at the scene unfolding before them. Millions of raindrops whipped into a tempest within the cave, Sharp's body frozen in the center as it writhed in agony, and to Marin's shock she could hear the song. The Song of Storms, the one she'd played, echoing throughout the cave… only she wasn't playing it any longer. It almost seemed like the wind rushing through the rocks and stalagmites was whistling Flat's melody, but that was impossible… right?

Another peal of thunder shook the cave and Sharp threw his head back with a roar, howling maddeningly at the center of his tornado, and then in a crash and an explosion of wind, all was still.

Sharp was gone.

Marin stood rooted to the spot, supporting herself on the cave wall, her entire body soaked and her hair a veritable birds nest. Pale faced and slack jawed, she turned to her companion to see him mirroring her pose on the opposite wall, his hair plastered to his face, covering one eye. He met her gaze with a startled one of his own, but before either could speak the water level of the river began to rise dramatically, spurring the two to hastily splash their way out of the cave before they were washed away.

Floundering up on shore, the two teens turned and collapsed onto their backs on the bank of the river, staring up at the bright blue sky and letting the sun begin to dry their sodden clothes.

After a moment, Groose broke the silence.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"That was…"

"Nuts?"

"Insane."

"Suicidal."

"Awesome."

She turned and flashed him an exhausted smile. "You actually enjoyed that, didn't you?"

He guffawed loudly. "Well… At least we have a cool story to tell."

"I guess…"

They were silent again for a moment, both reveling in the fact that they were alive before Groose turned to her again and asked, "So did you pass the test or what?"

Before she could answer, she felt her skin prickle as though something was watching her.

Rising to a sitting position, she found herself facing the shimmering, nearly invisible ghost of Sharp the Elder floating silently above the river. She felt Groose tense beside her, but strangely she felt no fear. Something in his countenance had changed… His eyes. They looked sunken and haggard, but no longer devoid of emotion. Quietly, his fiery eyes regarded her before finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

"You who do not fear the dead… Who are you? How is it you came by that song?"

Marin swallowed, taking her time to organize her thoughts before she answered.

"I'm Marin Gull, of Koholint. Your brother Flat sent me to play that song for you, and give you a message. He said if I did I'd be worthy to be called a Master musician, like you two."

He stared at her for a moment, then asked quietly, "And… the message?"

She cleared her throat, feeling uncomfortable. "He said… He said, 'the thousand years of raindrops summoned by my song are my tears. The thunder that strikes the earth is my anger.'"

She half expected him to get angry, but instead he tipped his head back and sighed.

"Oh Flat, my dear brother… Forgive me…"

Exchanging brief looks with Groose again, the two clambered unsteadily to their feet and regarded the mourning ghost in silence, giving him his moment of quiet despair. Finally he sighed again and turned his attention back to Marin.

"…I should thank you. You have broken the curse over me with my brother's song. We dead should not linger here in this land… Thank you for delivering his message to me. I feel more free now than I have in thousands of years."

Marin nodded, accepting his thanks but saying nothing. What was there to say? What was left was for him to speak to his brother- they could handle the rest themselves. Her part here was done.

Groose spoke up, sounding uncomfortable drawing attention to himself.

"So, uh… Sharp. Did she do it? Is she a Master now, like you?"

He flinched slightly when Sharp turned his gaze on him, but the ghost remained where he was, pondering slightly. Finally, he turned back to Marin and said, "I do not know what my brother was playing at, telling you you could become a Master by fulfilling a quest. Perhaps he was merely using you to help free me from the curse I placed upon myself… I do not know. Regardless, there is no one task a person can perform to become a Master. That is not how it is done."

Groose looked angry and opened his mouth to argue, but Marin forestalled him.

"So then… What do I have to do to become a Master?"

"A true Master is one who can touch the hearts of another through melody. It is not a destination, but way of being. Young musician, this day, through my brother's song, you have touched my heart and blown away the darkness. There can be no doubt- you already are a Master."

Marin's heart seemed to swell within her chest and she felt tears stinging at her eyes. She'd done it… The legendary Composer Brothers accepted her as a Master… She would never doubt herself again… This day could not possibly get any better…

"I must depart soon, young ones, but before I go… Master musician, I would ask a boon of thee."

Blinking past her tears, Marin nodded hastily to show Sharp she agreed. For the man who named her a Master? She'd do anything. Even if he had just tried to kill her.

"My brother and I… Our work was not completed in life. Because of my arrogance and pride, Flat's great work came to naught. I would ask you, then, Marin- you who freed me from the darkness, you who worked in my brother's stead to save me… Would you finish our work? Take this song that I will give you, our last melody as the Composer Brothers, and carry on our legacy in our names? Bring our research to the world… I will not have Flat's greatest achievements be swallowed by my darkness. Please…"

Marin's brain had stopped working. This… This was more than she had ever imagined… She'd be hyperventilating right now if she could make herself breathe.

Once again, Groose spoke up.

"So what, she'll be like… the Composer Sister now?"

Marin's face flushed red, absolutely mortified that Groose would have the audacity to call her that in front of Sharp himself, but the ghost nodded emphatically.

"Yes. If she is to finish what we started, then she must be one of us. For the glory of Hyrule… for the honor of my brother, Flat… Marin, Composer Sister, listen well to the song I shall play for you- a song of life, a song of restoration, a Song of Healing… Take this melody, and in our names, change the world…"

As the music washed over her, Marin felt tears leaking down her face one last time. This… This was more than she'd ever dreamed of… She met Groose's eyes once again and saw him shoot her a proud smile, and she grinned back stupidly in response, painfully aware of how crazy she must look, crying her eyes out and grinning like an idiot, soaking wet with her hair in wild disarray as a ghost serenaded her, but she didn't care. She had a goal, now, a mission given to her by her greatest heroes, and she had been accepted as one of them. She could kiss Groose for his lack of tact and speaking out of turn. She'd never been so happy in her entire life.

Maybe this day wasn't so terrible after all.