Authors note:

Sorry for the long wait, my friends! I was out of town last weekend, and I had to spend the past two days getting ahead in homework as I have a final to study for. Yay for college... Right?

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, as I apologize for the relatively inactive and mild style of the last chapter. It was one of those kinda in between chapters that are necessary, but also uneventful. Hopefully this chapter will spice things up for you guys! As always, thank you for all of the the support and love!

-Written In Bold

Chapter twenty-five, Winter Winds

"How much longer you think it will be?" Jonathan asked nonchalantly.

"I'd say about two hours. Although, looking at the clouds, and with how unbelievably cold its getting, I fear we might get snow. Depending on how much, it may or may not slow us down."

Jonathan's cold lips thinned, and he nodded slightly. They had both put on every scrap of clothing they had to keep warm, as the early morning winds brought in a cold front that chilled them to the bone. Drod was arguably colder than they were, as he nearly never stopped shivering, but once they had set out on their horses and began to move around, he was able to warm himself to a manageable point.

As Link had begrudgingly predicted, heavy snowflakes began to drift down, being caught up in the harsh wind, and crashed into the exposed skin of their faces in painful pricks of ice. It only increased as they proceeded, and within the hour, a thin blanket of snow covered the ground beneath them.

"It's a damn early winter this year. Hope the farmers were smart enough to get a head start on the autumn harvest few weeks back."

"I hope so too. We'll desperately need food supplies, should the war continue through the winter," Link sighed. "I don't think a little snow will stop them, unfortunately."

"True. But we have the home advantage, they will have no way to sustain themselves out on the ocean," Jonathan shouted through a particularly strong gust of wind.

"That is unless they come into the mainland again to resupply. Coastal farms and villages will be the first places they will attack. And unlike Tarrey Town, they won't burn them, but rather hold them hostage for food. I have no doubt they will come inland and try to starve us out by cutting off our trade routes, and take have their fill of our food."

Jonathan nodded gravely before responding. "Hylia help us if that happens."

"I'm sure the Queen and her advisor are already know this, and will take preemptive action. Hopefully men are already being sent out to secure the surrounding farms and villages to guard them."

"But won't that stretch our defenses thin? A vast majority of Hyrule Castle's men are already at the Citadel. How will we have enough men to guard such a wide area, all while keeping the Castle and Town safe?"

Link rubbed his red nose to warm it, as futile as it may have been. "Yes. It will. However, we have the support of the other tribes. While the Gerudo are not well suited to handle our winters, they can guard the great Western Sea, and supply us through Canyon Pass. We of course also have the Zora army, who can help us in defending a wider area. Add that to whatever forces the Rito and Gorons can supply, and were in a better place than before, although their tact will be more centered through communications and resources acquisition."

"I wish this blasted wind would just blow them away, back out into the deep sea where they'll starve and dehydrate." Jonathan shot Drod a rather rude glare after making his statement.

Link did not respond and further, as it required for him to remove his hand that covered his nose and mouth to keep it warm. And so, they trekked forward silently though the falling snow, eventually passing over Lake Hylia and making their way to Faron Woods. Under the tree coverage, the wind died down almost instantly, which helped them warm tremendously.

"So where is the Caretaker?" Jonathan asked with perked eyebrows.

"She usually chooses to appear once were deeper into Damel Forest. She does not venture to far from the heart of the forest as she is bound to it."

"Literally or figuratively?" Jonathan asked with a smirk.

"Figuratively. If a Miarindol leaves their forest, they are almost guaranteed to die. That's what happened to the Thyphlo Ruin's in the north. It's completely submerged in darkness now."

"I head the King once found an ancient Sheikah Shrine in the heart of that cursed forest," he replied.

Link sighed lightly at the unpleasant reminder of his King. "Yes… He did many great things…" Jonathan joined him in the brief moment of remembrance before they pressed it from their minds and surged into the forest, which was now devoid of its rich green color as it was embracing a long winters sleep.

Like Link had done when he visited the forest with Zelda, the trio crossed the Floria River Bridge one at a time with their horses, Link being first, Drod second, and Jonathan last. Drod's jaw dropped when they stumbled upon the first signs of the Faronish Ruins. He shifted and leaned in his saddle, trying to read the hieroglyphics that littered the stone faces of the ruins.

"Veet Faronit-viyle dras untyine dra-va," he muttered with a tone of astonishment and excited wonder.

"Well I guess that's all the proof we need, Master Link," Jonathan remarked with a grin. "He's practically as giddy as a school boy reading these ancient texts scattered about…"

Link did not smile in return, because deep down he feared all along that he would in fact be proven right about the lineage of the sea-faring invaders. And now that he was proven right beyond a doubt, he wondered how MiarindÍl would responded knowing that the descendants of her once peaceful and gentle people had become mass murderers and savages. How would she respond to learning that they had sided with the same enemy that caused them to abandon her over 10,000 years prior? Would she be mad? Sad? How would she respond to him when she learned that he himself killed countless of her people in rage induced hatred? It sent a tinge of anxiousness into his heart, and he shuddered from the thought. There was only one way to find out how she would handle it now; tell her.

Drod was practically standing in his saddle, as he craned his long neck left and right, soaking in every detail of the ruins that surrounded them, occasionally making comments, or reciting what was still legible on the broken stones. Jonathan was right, he was as giddy as a school boy. They snaked through the winding river path, eventually coming upon the open amphitheater which was now covered in a blanket of white snow.

"MiarindÍl?" Link called out loudly, feeling his throat strained by the cold. There was a long pause. Long enough to make him wonder if she could hear him. "MiarindÍl?" he called even louder. Again, there was no answer. He looked back to Jonathan who shrugged his shoulders unknowingly. "MiarindÍl!?" he cried one last time, beginning to feel worried.

"You said she is like a tree, didn't you?" Jonathan asked with a tilted chin.

"Yes… In fact that tree over there is her spiritual anchor so to speak." He pointed at the massive tree that grew over the gaping dragon carved from stone that lead to the Spring of Courage at the far end of the valley. "Why?"

"Perhaps she's asleep for the winter. All the leaves on that tree are either gone or turned to their autumn colors. What if she is asleep like the forest… A hibernation almost?"

Link furrowed his stressed eyebrows. "But she said she would always be here for me. She said I could come back anytime. Why wouldn't she have warned me that she hibernates during the winter?" Now that he thought about it, it was strange that the cold had even reached this far into Faron at all. The region was always renown for drastically warmer winters, which many scholars blamed on hot air that came from the Faron Sea and Gerudo Desert, but it was never proven. Others believed that there was some magical power that kept the forest temperate and humid year-round, but now that magic seemed to be absent. In all of the ancient texts he read about the Faron Region, he did not recall that there was ever snow recorded in his life time, or the life times before him.

"Jonathan," he began gravely. "Somethings not right…"

"I know… I can feel it in the air," Jonathan responded, scanning the area around them.

"I did considerable research about the Faron Region and its people at the Castle Library when I had free time, and I never once read records of snowfall here. It's always been a wet rainforest, but never this cold…"

"Do you think Ganon has something to do with it?" Jonathan asked with a shiver.

"If that's true, then we're in graver danger than I thought… It would mean he is on to us, and is trying to cut us off from gathering information on him and his army."

Jonathan nodded wearily. "Well. What do we do now?"

"Let's set up camp and get a fire going against the west wall. Then I'll see if I can get the doorway to MiarindÍl's spring open."

"Right," Jonathan responded determinedly.

They tied their horses―and Drod―off under a large tree, and began setting up camp. It took the better part of an hour to get a fire going, as nearly all the wood they scavenged was unusably wet. However, Jonathan discovered a dry patch deep in the trees where countless leaves kept some dead branches and logs dry, and it allowed them to start a measly, but functioning fire. They ate a quick lunch and warmed themselves by the fire before Link set out to find the entrance to MiarindÍl's spring cavern. He followed along the west wall, feeling every indent and inset of the ruined stone until he came upon the spot where the door was. I was not covered in dead vines like the rest of the wall, and it appeared as if it had been open relatively recently. He knew it was unlikely to work, but he tried pushing, pulling, lifting, and sliding every direction, but he could not get a strong enough grip to put his full strength into it. Even if he could have, he imagined that it would have been impossible to move with one person. At one point Jonathan even joined him while keeping a careful eye on Drod who was not too far off. Still, their combined strength was not enough to even budge the door. Link tried knocking, and banging on the the stone, but there was no answer. He even tried looking for a switch or button again, but found no relief or lever to pull.

"Maybe Drod can help us open it," Link suggested.

"It's worth a shot."

They quickly retrieved Drod from his bindings and brought him to the door, and set about trying to open it again while he watched with a puzzled expression.

"MiarindÍl," Link said while pointing to the door. Drod did not seem to understand at first, but after a few repetitions, he began running his shackled hands down the runic texts that were on each side of the stone doorframe as if he were studying it.

"MiarindÍl," Drod called out in his thick accent, which made it sound much more natural and articulate than when Link or Jonathan said it. However, no answer came. Drod continued to search for an answer, but to no avail. "MiarindÍl vi lotmonde evintar," he murmured as if frustrated. They were surprised to find that he was as equally determined to open the door and find MiarindÍl as they were, even going as far as pressing his ear against the stone and tapping it lightly with his knuckles as if he were trying to crack a safe.

"You know, for being our enemy, he sure does seem intent on helping us," Jonathan remarked.

"They must have passed down legends through the ages about MiarindÍl, and view her as their patron deity. I think any of them would be eager to try to find her."

Jonathan nodded in agreeance. "Well from what you've told me about her, I don't think she would be very happy with how they have been acting. They might get a little more than they bargained for."

Link chuckled a little. "I thought the same thing." His small grin quickly dissipated before he continued in a serious ton. "In fact, I'm worried with how she will react, especially when she learns how many of them I killed."

Jonathan inhaled deeply and nodded. "Well. It couldn't be helped. A man has to do whatever is necessary to defend his kingdom."

"Grat-va!" Drod suddenly shouted, startling Link and Jonathan from their conversation. Drod spun around with bright eyes, and gestured for them. They stepped forward and waited to hear, or see his discovery with eager demeanors. Drod turned back to the door and placed both hands just a little higher than his shoulders and began to speak in a very quiet, almost prayer like voice. "MiarindÍl, unt ravba endiyel. Seltvo drad-vatin eck meen altava." The door suddenly shifted, and began to sink into the ground.

"Holy shit!"

"It worked!" Link clapped Drod on the shoulder and grinned. For a brief moment he forgot his prejudices, and beheld Drodvaltol in a fairer light. However, that brief moment passed, and reality stepped back in with a cold and mean spirit. He turned to Jonathan and motioned him to follow. "Come on. It's a bit of a climb down in the dark, but there's light at the bottom."

"You don't have to tell me twice to get out of the cold!"

They descended into the dark cavern, keeping Drod balanced between them as they kept steadying hands against the wall since they were mostly in the blinding dark. A familiar blue light began to dance on the landing below, and Link felt a rise of excitement within himself. That excitement was unfortunately shattered when he entered the cavern and looked to the back of the warm spring. Against the stone wall, in what seemed like a concave portion of rock, sat MiarindÍl, who glowed with an ethereal blue, not green light. Her long slender arm was propped up and was supporting her head as if she were asleep. From the oaken parts of her body sprung out long roots that gripped onto the cracks and crevices of the cavern wall, creating a network of roots that resembled that of a tree's branches stemming out from its trunk. They approached with caution, jaws dropped and furrowed eyebrows.

"MiarindÍl," Link called nervously. She did not respond, nor did she stir from her seat. He looked back to Drod and Jonathan who had equally terrified and awe filled expressions. He quickly removed his boots and socks before stepping in the warm spring, and treaded over to MiarindÍl. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the slightest movement in her lips and face, and the ethereal mist-like glow that swirled in her core softly and slowly pulsated in a cadence that resembled that of breathing. Link stretched out his hand and lightly touched her shoulder, instantly being filled with a warm feeling in his head and body.

MiarindÍl? He called in his mind. She did not respond, but he could feel her presence. It was so peaceful and quiet, like a child contently sleeping in a warm bed, tucked away in soft blankets. For a moment he was pacified into a state of peaceful rest, feeling warmth radiate from his core. MiarindÍl can you hear me? he asked, closing his eyes. Again, she did not respond, but her presence softly shifted and turned, as if she were turning in a bed to be more comfortable. MiarindÍl please, if you can hear me, wake up. I need you. Again, no response. I have one of your people with me. Please, I need you to translate what he is saying… Please, terrible things have happened, and it's all on my shoulders to set them right. I need you. He felt something warm graze his chin, as if a soft finger stroked his jaw. He opened his eyes but found that she had not moved an inch. MiarindÍl, he said forcefully. Wake up! He began to tap and move her face, but she would not wake or stir from her slumber.

"Drodvaltol," he called, motioning for him to approach. Drod quickly kicked off his boots and eagerly walked forward through the spring. Link gestured for him to touch her, in hopes that he might be able to wake her. Drod's eyes closed, and a warm smile stretched across his mouth. Link waited patiently, but nothing ever happened. Drod eventually withdrew and shook his head. "Jonathan, do you want to try to wake her?"

"I don't even know how," he responded anxiously.

"Just touch her shoulder, and speak in your mind, as if you're talking to yourself." He nodded and approached, following Link's instructions. Jonathan fell into a trace like state like Link and Drod had, but after some time he also withdrew empty handed.

"I could feel her, but she did not speak. She really is asleep… What do we do?"

"I don't know. I guess let's keep trying to wake her up. Maybe if we try at the same time, we can be a big enough presence to wake her."

"Worth a shot." They both put their hands on her shoulders, and gestured for Drod to do the same. However, everything felt the same as before, and MiarindÍl did not awake.

"Do you think if we poke her with something sharp she'll jolt awake?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know. I wouldn't want to hurt her, but maybe it will be just enough to wake her." Jonathan pulled a small dagger from his belt and handed it to Link. Just as he was about to poke her hand however, Drodvaltol cried out and surged forward as if he were trying to pull the dagger from his hand.

"Li, li vot-telin!" he cried. Jonthan quickly restrained him, equally surprised as Link was at his sudden outburst. It was clear he did not want them to hurt MiarindÍl.

"Hey hey hey! Calm down!" Link withdrew the knife, and held out his hands peacefully. "I won't hurt her. I'm just giving her a light poke. Nothing serious!" Drod continued to thrash against Jonathan's strong grip, but was unable to break free. "Maybe we should try it later. When he's not looking."

"Probably a good idea," Jonathan grunted. Link quickly covered the dagger and stepped away, signaling his good intentions. When Link withdrew, Drod finally relented, and stopped struggling, returning to his peaceful demeanor. "Well. What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Link sighed in frustration. "It seems like she's okay, just asleep. We must keep trying to wake her. This is our only lead to figure out what Ganon has planned. If we can't figure out what's going on, then the best we can do is wait until they attack again, and I will be damned if that happens while we have no advantage."

"Why don't we set up base in here, and then we can spend the rest of the day trying to wake her up."

"That's all we can do for now. I'll keep Drod secured down here if you want to grab the bags and make sure the horses will be warm and safe."

Jonathan nodded. "Do you think we could get the horses down the stairs? I would hate to leave them up there in the cold unguarded."

"Maybe. I doubt they would be brave enough to do that, especially if they can't see, but perhaps if you could provide light somehow they might follow."

"I can fashion up a torch from the fire." Jonathan began jogging to the entrance of the cavern, pulling his boots on. "If I hurry I might be able to pull a branch from the fire."

"Best of luck. I'll be down here if you need me."

Link continued his attempts to wake MiarindÍl, but they resulted in the same failure. She either turned away, or quietly withdrew her presence. He tried shouting, both internally and outwardly, but still she did not wake. With every passing moment he grew more and more frustrated.

"MiarindÍl! Please. Wake up! I don't know what to do." No response. He grunted grumpily before sitting down on a small rock nearby, and watched as Drod continue to prod MiarindÍl with as much reverence as he could muster. After a few minutes Link heard the loud clatter and clops of horse hooves, and eventually Jonathan emerged, torch in hand, and Link's horse in tow.

"That was a battle, but I finally persuaded him to come. Had a couple of slips here and there, but he's in one piece!" His horse certainly was jumpy and fidgety, but as Jonathan had said, he was in one piece and healthy. His horse even strode up to the warm spring and began to drink from it, which seemed to calm him down even more. Jonathan soon ferried in the other two horses, who both seemed to take the trip in confident strides.

"Any luck?" Jonathan asked as he began unfurling his bedroll and making himself comfortable in the surprisingly warm cavern.

"None," Link vented.

"Well Drod seems pretty taken up with her for the time being. Maybe we should just let him work away. He probably knows more than we do." Link reluctantly agreed, and began unfurling his bedroll next to Jonathan's, and plopped down with an irritated grunt.

"I just don't know what to do. If we can't wake her, then we have no back up plan, nothing to go on." Link massaged his eyelids, racking his brain for any ideas. "We have nothing else to go on. We have no intelligence on the specters, and only minimal information on the Faronites. We're completely blind."

"I'm sure we'll think of something. Maybe the Queen will have something. She always was a great scholar, and seeing that she has more experience with this type of stuff than anyone else, surely she can think of our next step."

Jonathan's optimism did not help improve his sour mood. Link felt as if his only opportunity to be useful was squandered. The first step he took towards his goal already failed miserably, and he simmered in anger because of it.

Looks like you'll be going back to Hyrule Castle empty handed. Wouldn't be the first time you've been a disappointment.

Yeah, I know. Goddess, I just wish I knew what to do.

You'll find a way, the other voice promised him. Jonathan is right. If we can't wake MiarindÍl, then we can get back to the Queen and Princess, and we can all put our heads together and figure out where to go from here.

Oh yeah, let's all jollily go back to Hyrule Castle empty handed and show all the guards and townsfolk how completely useless you are! Sounds like a fantastic plan. Link bit his tongue and silenced the voices, only growing more frustrated, but no less determined.

"We will keep trying to wake her until tomorrow morning. If she doesn't wake up, then we'll head back to the Citadel. From there I'll report back to the Queen."

"Alright," Jonathan sighed. "We can ride together back to the Batrea Lake and rest for the night. From there I can get Drod back to the Citadel on my own easy enough, that way you can save some travel time and go directly to the Castle."

"You sure you comfortable with that?" Link asked hesitantly.

"Certainly. I know that area well, and Drod is not a hard prisoner to control. With a good night's rest, I can easily make it to the Citadel from there in a half day, even with the snow."

"Okay," Link nodded. "But only if you are absolutely sure."

"Of course. Why, are you worried about me?" he asked with a jestful smile.

"I've lost too many brothers as is," Link began gravely, which instantly shot down Jonathan's warm smile. "I'm always worried."

"Of course," Jonathan responded seriously. "I'll be fine. The roads will be well traveled with other knights from there. If anything even does happen, I won't be far from help."

"Fair enough. If this doesn't work, then I'd like to get back to the Castle as soon as possible… I've been getting a little antsy leaving the Princess unguarded. Especially with the specters nowhere to be seen." Although he would not admit it to himself, he found that he already missed being with Zelda, as their time together in the Library ran through his mind all during his watch earlier that morning before they left Batrea Lake. He told himself repeatedly that it was asinine and downright imprudent to view their time in the Library as anything more than a simple pass time to occupy the Princess' mind from darker things, but he could not deny how at peace it made him feel. I'm still just her knight, he reassured himself. It was good for her to be distracted for a while, but I can't let my desire for her happiness to cloud my judgment. I must keep the delicate balance.

"I'm sure she's fine. She'll be surrounded by the Royal Guards." Jonathan's lip curled in a suppressed grin, which Link knew was the tale tell sign of one of his incoming jests. "Of course, none are quite as good as you, I'm sure. There's no one better suited for the job than you!"

Now if only I could do it without being bogged down by my feelings. Link only shrugged his shoulders with a pursed smile.

"You don't always have to be so modest you know," he commented with a mischievous smile.

"I prefer not to draw attention to myself if I can help it," he responded smartly.

Jonathan chuckled lightly before he continued with his counter argument. "And yet, for someone who wants to remain unseen, you've seem to have a knack for drawing attention."

"And see how far that's gotten me," he insisted. "You think I enjoy being the most hated knight in Hyrule?"

Jonathan's smile disappeared, and he titled his head in apologetic concern. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Of course you didn't want that to happen."

Link only sighed before responding. "It's okay. Besides, there nothing I can do to change it now, so I best learn to live with it."

"Like I said yesterday, give it time and I'm sure people will come around."

They sat in relative silence after that, occasionally taking the time to try to wake MiarindÍl. As soon as they would think of a new idea, they would try it, but they grew more despondent with every failure. Even Drod was visibly downtrodden by their inability to wake her. The day passed unbearably slow, and the night came ever slower. When Drod and Jonathan had fallen asleep, Link took the first watch. To suppress his boredom, Link paced about the cavern, trying to think of different ways to wake MiarindÍl, and even tried lightly poking her with the point Jonathan's knife. It certainly was not hard enough to do any real damage, but it would have startled anyone else awake with a yelp. And yet, MiarindÍl did not even seem to notice.

MiarindÍl, he began as he placed a hand on her arm. If you can understand me, please wake up. I'm terrified of my own failure, and this could be my only chance to make a considerable difference in the war effort. I need your counsel. I need you to translate for Drodvaltol; a descendant of your own people. He is the key to figuring out what Ganon plans to do… Her presence shifted in his mind, and for a moment it felt as if she were peering into his memories, but it faded shortly thereafter, and she turned away in his mind. Damnit! Please! What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to be the hero destined to fight back the evil if I don't even know what to do? Goddess, why did The Sword choose me? Do you know why!? Is there a way you can communicate with the voice inside the Master Sword? Please, you must tell it that it chose poorly. You have to tell it that I am not enough. Are you there?

His never-ending questions were only answered with withdrawn silence. His patience was spent, and so he withdrew and sat down near the spring, and tucked his legs up under his chin, pulling his cloak around him. With nothing to distract his mind, his mind drifted to stressful topics. Primarily, he imagined the disappointment on the Queen's face when he would come back with nothing useful to report. She was counting on him, the next Chosen Hero, to find out what Ganon was planning, and yet the plan he had full confidence in failed. He imagined how disappointed the Princess would be to learn that he had nothing of comfort to offer. He imagined the angry and disgusted faces of the townsfolk and guards of Hyrule Castle, as he strode back with only failure to bring, confirming their suspicions.

Link felt alone. Sure, he had Jonathan with him, and he certainly made him feel better at times, but Jonathan didn't really understand how he felt. He couldn't fully comprehend the stress that he was under. He knew the only other people that would truly understand his strife was the Queen, and the Princess, but he could never truly vent out his frustrations, his sadness, or his hopelessness to either of them. He had to remain strong and carry any burden that was placed on him like any loyal servant would do. It was his job, that was his status, no matter how likely he was to fail. And so, he felt alone in facing his struggles, and MiarindÍl was not even awake to share in his troubled mind and offer him counsel and comfort.

What about you, huh? What does the voice inside the Master Sword have to say? Do you have any insightful information to turn away from me in favor of sleep? He unstrapped the Master Sword from his back and held it in his hands, studying the ornate golden designs on the scabbard. Lucky me, he remarked miserably. A magical talking sword that does not talk to me, a mystical being that is too sleepy to talk to me, a Princess and Queen that I would be out turn to share my grievances with, and a best friend who can't fully grasp the stress I'm under.

You know, for someone who is supposed to be a loyal and stoic servant, you sure do complain a lot.

Link sighed dejectedly. I know, I know. I have no right to complain. I just need to suck it up and stop being a child. Be the wolf, not the lamb. He pulled his father's necklace out from underneath his tunic and held the small carved lamb in between his fingers, reaffirming himself in his true purpose, feeling ashamed. I made my blood-oath. I will find the next course of action instead of wallowing in self-pity and hatred.

Forgive me father for my weakness.

He forced his mind back to the topic of his next step, omitting his reservations from the discussion. He figured that his next step after returning to Hyrule Castle would be to go the Library and read any and every ancient text that could possibly unveil the identity of the three specters, as well as find any manuscripts that could help them translate Drodvaltol. Perhaps it was possible, given they had enough time, for more qualified scholars to even begin decoding and learning the Faronish language, or teach Drodvaltol how to speak Hylian. Maybe even both. However, that required time, a lot more time than he could realistically hope for, and he knew that the invaders would return very soon, as their supplies would undoubtedly run out on the sea, which would force them to invade the mainland again. He then turned his attention to determining what they would do if Ganon and his army were to attack before they even had a chance to learn anything about him. With the size and power of his army, Link knew they stood a poor chance against them, but including the specters, and Ganon most of all, he knew that their chances of survival were non-existent unless by some miracle he were to be successful. They could hold out the Citadel for as long as possible, but even that would inevitably fail, and then they would be forced retreat further inland. If Ganon was smart, all he would have to do would be use the specters to turn the tide of every battle in their favor without staying long enough for him and the Princess to trap and kill them. They were fast and agile, and if their previous performances were anything to go by, not even Hyrule Castle would remain impregnable.

So what was he waiting for? Link couldn't determine a logical answer. Perhaps he was trying to lull them into a false sense of security, or maybe he wanted to wait until the dead of winter to catch them in their most vulnerable state, but why wait when they could so easily destroy them? At any rate, the whole scenario put Link on edge. He remembered Commander Varin once telling him that there is no more dangerous enemy than the one you don't understand, and Link knew little about their sea-faring invaders and the terrifying specters.

The King would know what to do, he remarked despondently. He thought back to the King's funeral, most notably the strange melody that the Rito Bard began to play. It was so soft and beautiful, almost like a gentle lullaby. Link often found that he was absent mindedly humming the soothing tune in the long stretches of his watch. Although he could not explain it, the song almost reminded him of Zelda; if such a thing was even possible. It was gentle and peaceful like she was, and it soothed his heart and mind to hear it, much like her voice soothed his mind―except for when she asked questions that he felt were a compromise to his social status―but still, it had a calming and enchanting effect on his consciousness. Thinking abstractly, Link felt as if Zelda was like the fabled Silent Princess flower; a rare and beautiful blossom to be cherished, but not one that he was allowed to pluck and take for his own. No, he had to watch and enjoy from a distance, all while keeping it safe from harm so that it might grow and bloom without hinderance. Including his own hinderances.

Link was beginning to find that his mind drifted towards thoughts of Zelda dreadfully often, which he knew was a bad sign. And so, he began suppressing all thoughts towards her that were not strictly related to the task at hand. It was another chore that he seemed to fail miserably at, as it would be mere minutes until he was thinking about her fondly again.

Link did not try to wake MiarindÍl any further that night, and so he simply sat and idled his time with darkening thoughts about his future, avoiding his draw towards Zelda. Being alone with his thoughts was becoming a dangerous proposition, as with every moment that passed, he only grew angrier, sadder, and more frustrated. For the entirety of his watch, Link slowly rocked side to side to keep himself awake, as he studied the cavern walls and glowing stalactites above him. The light they casted was so soft and soothing that he found it hard to fight the urge to sleep, but he was well adapted to keeping himself awake after years of training.

If only you could have stayed awake a little longer, he grumbled towards MiarindÍl.

And so, Link sat and waited in utter silence, completely alone and terribly bored. He was glad when it finally was time for him to switch places with Jonathan several hours later, and he quickly drifted into sleep.

Per usual, his routine nightmares made their stale return to him that morning, but this time there was the slightest difference. It was such a small change, but by the time he awoke at dawn, he could not recall what the change was. All he could noticed was that the Master Sword was much warmer in his hands than usual. He racked his groggy mind, trying to remember what was different, but like any passing dream, the further along time passed, the less he could remember. And so, like always, he pressed it from his mind and forgot it. Jonathan greeted him with a warm smile and some food that he prepared during his watch. To his surprise, Drodvaltol was already awake, and was sitting next to MiarindÍl with his hand resting on her arm, his eyes overcast and void.

"He woke up not too long ago. Been there since. I figured he wouldn't do anything to get into to trouble, so I've just been keeping an eye on him."

"You have any luck while I was asleep?" he asked as he munched on his breakfast.

"None…"

"Well," Link sighed. "I guess we will let Drod keep trying to a little longer, and if nothing happens then we will pack up and head out."

Link was in a sour mood for the rest of the morning as they wasted away in the cavern in relative silence. Even Jonathan and Drod were visibly disappointed in the mission's failure. Link took a quick break outside to relieve himself, and found that a foot of snow had covered the ground, which he knew was going to take a toll on their travel time. Yet, he hoped as the proceeded further north it would not be quite as deep. At that current state however, he estimated that they would arrive and Batrea Lake by nightfall.

Once Drod finally admitted defeat, they packed up and said their unceremonious last goodbyes to the sleeping Caretaker of Faron, unsurprisingly receiving no answer. When they exited the cavern, Drod spoke the same words he had the day before, and the door began to grind, and stagger closed, so that MiarindÍl would remain undisturbed until she awoke. Link took the time to learn what Drod was saying, word for word, and syllable for syllable so that should he need to return he might be able to open the door without Drod's help.

The forest was unnaturally quiet. Not a single winter bird chirped, nor did any animal cross their path. The only noise they heard was the crunching of the snow beneath their horses' hooves, and the faint clinking of the metal on their bridals and saddles. It was a peacefulness that made the hairs on the back of Link's neck stand up in anticipation.

Nothing ever happened however, and so after a brief ride, they themselves on the outskirts of Faron Forest. The snow made it difficult for the horses to proceed, but they trudged forward across the Bridge of Hylia and backtracked past the Great Plateau, until the turned east and rested for a very late lunch at the Kolomo Garrison. The knights stationed at the garrison were just as surprised by the snow as Link and Jonathan were, and were busy with clearing out paths on the main road with flat shovels. In addition to the grueling chore of clearing snow, the Kolomo Garrison guards, and their overseer; Lord Tarvin, were busy with receiving an influx of Hylia, Rito, and Zora soldiers from the north, confirming Link's earlier suspicion about the Queen sending men out to guard the borders of their kingdom. By the time they warmed up by the fire and had their fill of food, which the garrison guards unenthusiastically parted to Link, it was the late-afternoon. Feeling much better from their warm break, they prepared to leave. Before they left however, Jonathan wisely suggested that they ask for bundles of dry fire wood, which the guards agreed to give them, with no small amount of reluctance.

Luckily, as they proceeded to the northeast, the snow did seem to thin out dramatically. Instead of a foot of snow, they only had to deal with a few inches, which made it much easier on their horses, allowing them to cut through it with relative ease. As they had anticipated, they reached Batrea Lake an hour before the sun set, and they built a roaring fire to keep them warm. With a large tarp hung over their bedrolls so that they would stay dry if it were to start snowing again, they settled in for another cold and uneventful night.

"Hopefully it won't snow again," Jonathan commented while he finished chewing the last bite of his dinner.

"I guess we can only wait and see," Link responded as he prodded the fire. "I can take the first watch again. You have a longer road to take than me know, so I'll let you get some extra sleep."

"I can't say no to that," Jonathan chuckled as he tucked himself under his wool blanket. "Just don't strain yourself. Wake me if you need me," he yawned.

Link wrapped himself in his blanket and sat by the fire, occasionally throwing an extra log onto it to sustain it, but took care to preserve their precious supply of dry wood. He watched listlessly as the flames dance in flashes of bright flickering light, once again returning to his lonely state of mind. All this work for nothing, he grunted. I just can't wait to report back to the Queen, he added with a sarcastically bitter quip.

As he had promised, he allowed Jonathan an extra hour or two of sleep since he had a much longer trip ahead of him, which he seemed to greatly appreciate. By the time morning rolled around, dark clouds covered the sky and threated to bear down on them with heavy snow again. However, the clouds seemed appeased for the time being, and so they struck out onto the road as soon as they had ample sun light.

"Well, brother. It's been nice traveling with you, even if things didn't work out," Jonathan said earnestly as they came upon the fork that would split their paths between the Horwell and Eagus bridges.

"Thank you for accompanying me on this―less than desirable trip. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"Nonesense," Jonathan shouted with a beaming smile. "Any time I get to spend with my oldest friend could never be a waste. I would do it all over again just to spend time with you, even with the dreadful cold." Jonathan grabbed Link's forearm and pulled Link into a brotherly embrace, clapping him on the back.

"Goddess I'm going to miss you," Link sighed as he embraced his friend. After a brief pause, Jonathan pulled from their hug and placed encouraging hands on his shoulders.

"I will miss you too. You stay safe out there, Mister Hero, you hear me?"

"Yes sir," Link laughed with a sarcastic tone. "And make sure Drod doesn't die please. We will need him whenever MiarindÍl wakes up."

"On my honor I will," Jonathan chuckled before hugging Link once last time then remounted his horse, positioning himself next to Drod with the lead rope still in hand.

"Bra-tava, Link," Drod surprisingly commented with a polite smile and bright gray eyes. It was another one of the rare moments that Link forgot who Drodvaltol and his people were, and saw him as a peaceful man.

"Bra-tava, Drodvaltol," Link retuned with a nod, concluding their farewells. He mounted his horse and began to turn it down the left path to cross Horwell Bridge, when Jonathan shouted one last passing order.

"Oh! And you take care of the Princess now, understand?" Jonathan smiled mischievously and winked, and for a moment Link's heart squeezed, fearing that he had somehow found out about his feelings for the Princess. However, he reassured himself that there was no way he could have known, and that Jonathan was merely being his usual playful self.

"I will," he shouted over his shoulder before turning back and spurred his horse onward. Link knew he would be sad to watch Jonathan leave, but now that it was finally happening, he did not anticipate how much it really would hurt his morale. The longer he rode, the lonelier and more despondent he became. In addition to this, as if it were an expression of his mood, it began to snow within a few minutes of crossing the bridge. Link often peered back over his shoulder to watch his oldest friend leave with the Faronish prisoner, and with every glance, Jonathan and Drodvaltol grew smaller and smaller until they seemed to disappear into the Lanayru Wetlands.

Goodbye, Link sighed inwardly.

He stretched his cold fingers and shifted in his saddle as he passed between the little valley of Whistling Hill and the Bottomless Swamp, eventually coming upon a small grove of tall trees. While the heavy snowfall only hindered his eye sight slightly, he could see the familiar hills and dells of Hyrule Field, and even further away was Hyrule Castle, although it was so covered in a heavy fog that he could not even see the peaks of the lowest towers, much less the tops of the monolithic spires of ancient Sheikah technology. Link stopped for a moment to take in the rare view. While many would have called it a dreary sight, Link found that there was a strange beauty to the way the white snow covered the land and all of the little village huts that were scattered across the countryside. It was the kind of beauty that only a man that truly appreciated the wild would understand. He drew in a deep lung full of air through his nose, and blew out a large billowing mass of mist from his mouth, reveling in the beautiful display of nature for a moment longer.

It was then when, without warning, that a great gust of wind fell against his back so hard that it nearly ripped the cloak around his neck clean off. The sudden gale spooked his horse, and it began to thrash around wildly while wailing in a high-pitched whinny. From the direction of the wind came forth a rolling wall of thick snow that violently blew past him and consumed him in a thick fog-like blanket. It was the front of a terrible snow storm.

"What the hell is going on!?" he cursed to himself as his horse continued to fight him, bucking and jumping as if he were trying to throw him from the saddle. "Calm down boy," he tried to say soothingly, although his teeth began to chatter, and his cheeks started to sting from the cold snowflakes that battered his skin. Despite his stern commands, Link's horse would not listen, and continued to rear up and kick his legs. Link held on with all of his strength, and tried to calm his skittish horse, but with every gust of wind that rolled through, his mount only grew more desperate and distressed. With the speed that only fear could muster, his horse suddenly surged forward at a full gallop, stubbornly resisting the pull of his reins, and weaved between the grove of trees at blistering speed. Despite his best efforts, Link knew that there was no stopping his horse now, and so he clinched his legs together, dug his heels into the stirrups and held on for dear life.

It took him a few minutes to realize what happened when he suddenly awoke on the ground with a pounding headache. He felt dizzy and wheezy as he propped himself up on his elbows and brushed the cold snow off of his face, already feeling a tender spot on his forehead. He looked up to a low hanging branch, which was no doubt the culprit that caused his headache.

"Hylia alive," he winced in blinding pain as he looked to his left, unable to see more than a few yards away. The snow was falling harder and faster than he had ever seen it fall before. He always heard of the renown winter blizzards that would annually roll through the Tebantha Tundra to the far north, but never before had he seen such a storm in the heartland of Hyrule. Apparently he had been unconscious for a few minutes, as his lower body was already covered in an inch of snow, soaking his clothes as it melted from his body heat. He began to shiver uncontrollably as he moved his legs, eventually rolling to the side and holding himself up on his knees and hands. Every movement made his head throb with a droning pain, but he pushed past it and shuffled over to a nearby tree, and pulled himself up against it.

A rush of fear struck him when he couldn't feel the Master Sword on his back, but after reaching over his shoulder his fear was laid to rest as he felt The Swords warm hilt in his grasp. He sighed with painful relief, taking a moment to gather his senses and form a plan, but despite his best efforts to clear his head, he could not gather his bearings. The forest offered no noticeable landmark to go off of, and it felt like the whole world around him was spinning, making it practically impossible to determine which way was north. The road, he thought as he grimaced and pushed off the tree, beginning to saunter to where he determined the road would be, but in all honesty, he merely guessed. While he could not find the road itself, he did discover a uniform part in the trees, which he imagined would signify where the road was, buried deep below the snow that was now steadily climbing to his knees. He looked right, then left, searching for any signs of life, light, or his horse. Unfortunately, he found no tracks, he found no horse, and he still could not see but a few yards ahead of him. I need… To get… To shelter, he thought in his dazed state. His legs felt heavy as he struggled to push through the rising snow, pulling his wool and fur cloak around him to try to keep warm. The wind was nearly strong enough to knock him over in his weakened state, but he managed to stumble forward without incident. Occasionally, as he senselessly trudged forward, he would look back to find that the tracks he had just recently made were almost covered completely.

Shit.

His whole body shook violently, and his jaw grew sore from chattering, causing his teeth to hurt, but he pressed on knowing that if he did not reach safety soon that he would surely freeze to death, and no one would find him until the snow melted away. I hope Jonathan hasn't been hit by this, he worried. At one point he considered turning back to search for him, but he knew that if would never make it. No, he had to instead pay attention to making it out alive himself before he could even think about going back to help Jonathan. What use would he be to his friend if he was dead?

A light, he croaked miserably. Far in the distance he saw a warm flame that resembled candle light in a window. That must be the Mabe Ranch... He felt better now that he at least had a direction to go now, and so he kept a watchful eye on the solitary candle light that was his only beacon of hope. The snow grew deeper as he pushed forward for several minutes, but he never took his eye off the light. The light grew brighter and closer, and for a moment his spirits rose, but then something strange began to happen. The light began to bounce and sway side to side slightly in a slow meandering cadence. He thought that it might have been someone carrying a torch, and so he cried out for help, hoping that whoever was carrying the torch would hear him. No answer came, and so he opened his mouth to shout again when suddenly he saw some small object dart towards him.

The pain that followed brought him to his knees.

He cried out in ear-piercing agony as the mysterious object penetrated the front of his thigh, almost reaching the bone. He collapsed on the ground and clutched his leg, eventually looking down to find a long, slender shard of what seemed to be a semi-translucent black stone sticking out of his left thigh. He had only ever seen a handful of objects made of that same ebony colored stone once before.

Goddess, please no…

He looked back up to where the torch light once was, but now he only found that the it had erupted into a long and rich red flame. Two other flames immediately erupted beside it, bearing blue and green colors, and soon Link could see the billowing shapes of three black cloaked specters slowly approaching him with predatorial grace. He tried to stand, but his leg would not let him, so he drew the Master Sword from his back, immediately being illuminated by its ethereal blue glow and prepared to fight from the ground.

"Master, run!" It was so clear in his mind. He heard the voice inside The Sword call to him. The faint but beautiful ringing sang in his ear.

I can't. My leg.

"You have to try, Master!"

He knew it was right. He screamed in pain as he bore his full weight on his right leg, barely summoning enough balance to stand up straight. He did not even have enough strength or sense to raise his sword when a billowing black mass shot forward to him and knocked him back down.

"Master!" the voice called as his sword flew from his hand.

He rolled helplessly in the deep snow as he desperately searched for the Master Sword with his hands and feet. He was in such a panic that he forgot the cold and pain, but he eventually found the Master Sword buried beneath the snow not far from him. Just as he grasped the handle of the Master Sword, he felt two pincer-like hands dig into each of his shoulders and began to lift him from the ground. With as much speed he could muster, he tried to swing at the specter behind him, but he met the loud ring of steel against stone. Apparently his futile attack was blocked with ease.

He then felt a third hand grip onto his ankle, pulling it from underneath him, spinning him upside down, and dangled him by his leg. The excruciating pain was so strong that he nearly passed out, but luckily, he held on to his consciousness and the Master Sword. Before long, he felt his body soar upwards, knocking the wind out of him. He looked up to the sky and saw a featureless, hooded specter lifting him higher and higher into the air, as it was enveloped in a billowing black flame. He looked back down to the ground below him and was horrified to find that he could not even see it through the thick storm.

Oh fuck.

If it were even possible, his heart beat even quicker and more desperate as he began to thrash around wildly. When his senses returned, he eventually swung the Master Sword, and cut across the specters arm, intending to free himself from its grasp. Unfortunately, he put no forethought into the plan, for as soon as he struck the metal plated arm that held him, it shrieked in pain and let him go, allowing him to plummet to the ground unhindered. It was when he fell for more than a few seconds that he realized his mistake.

He could not decide if he was lucky or not to be caught mid-air by the second specter, as the sudden jolt sent a surge of fiery pain down his left leg that caused him to pass out. When he awoke, the Master Sword was not in his hand.

Oh Shit!

He began to kick with his uninjured leg, but to no avail. Every movement he made only brought more excruciating pain; pain that made him complacent and incapable of retaliating. He passed from consciousness to unconsciousness in rapid succession, as he could feel whatever dark venom that the shard in his leg bore course through his veins. He found it nearly impossible to breath high up in the freezing air, but as time went on, it grew unexplainably warmer around him. After what seemed like a blink of an eye, he broke through the clouds and could see past the storm.

Sand..?

His vision went black before her could get a better look at the ground below him, but he felt insatiably warmer than before. When his vision finally returned he could see the ground beneath him speeding past, but to his horror he realized that he was falling. He could not recall the impact.

By the time he stopped limply rolling down the side sand dune, he felt the shard in his leg snap and burrow further in, sending another wave of unimaginable pain up his thigh. Nothing besides his leg felt injured from the fall however, which seemed like a miracle given his circumstances. Apparently, the specter dropped him in a way that the slow curvature of the sand dune would break his fall a little, rendering him immobile, but still alive and relatively uninjured. He began to spit up warm sand from his mouth, finding that it was muddied by blood, which left a copper-like taste on his tongue.

He was completely exposed in the open dessert. The Master Sword was nowhere to be seen, he had no supplies, and his wounded leg made it impossible to stand. He searched the skies for the specters, but it seemed that they disappeared without a trace. Using only his hands and right leg, he began to kick away to find a place to hide, but the land was barren of any rocks, buildings, or coves to hid in or under. Panic began to surge through his heart, and he began to draw in desperate breaths as if they were the first ones he took since birth. His heart stopped when the sand began to shift and tremble around him.

"Hylia save me…"

The sun that once beat down on him mercilessly was suddenly blotted out a massive, hulking form that stood tall above the sand dunes before him. Whatever the thing was, it slithered towards him on its two fin-like claws, being followed by a long-tapered tail that resembled that of a large fish. It was unlike anything Link had ever seen. He had recalled seeing paintings and drawings of the mythical Moldugas of Gerudo Dessert, but judging by the unbelievable size of the terrible beast that approached him with cunning glances, he knew that it could not be a mere Molduga, as they were a quarter of the size, and had four legs instead of fins. What he witnessed was something much worse than that.

It had a long and narrow snout, which was inlaid with sharp, pointed teeth, and on each side of its narrow skull were two sunken bright red eyes that peered down at him glutinously. It skin and hard scales seemed to barely cling onto it bones and muscles beneath, almost as if it had been brought back to life, and was decaying in reverse. A deathly stench poured out from its mouth as it let out a deep rumbling yawn-like roar.

There was only one creature that Link knew of that could ever get to that size. He had read about them during one of his history classes when he was training to become a knight. However, they were an extinct species; or at least, only three of their fossilized skeletons were ever found scattered across Hyrule, and no one ever heard of a or saw a living Leviathan. At least not until now. Adrenaline kicked in, and Link turned over onto his belly and began to crawl away as fast as he could, but his heart threatened to give out when he heard the shifting sands rumble behind him. It was too late. There was nothing he could do now. He was the captive prey of a terrible and prehistoric predator. He glanced over his shoulder, horrified to find that the Leviathan's gaping mouth was pitched towards him high in the air as it prepared to pounce down on him and swallow him whole.

So this is it…?

He did not even have time to think of any passing words before he was plunged into complete darkness. Given the unbelievable amount of sand that instantly closed in around him, it appeared that the Leviathan had bitten off a large chuck of the land around him, but it was soon turned into mud as the creature's saliva permeated it, coating Link in a foul-smelling liquid that made him want to vomit almost instantly.

"No, NO, NO! Please goddesses! Please not like this!" His panicked and desperate pleas went unanswered as his body was thrown and tossed around inside the Leviathan's mouth. Its wretched and wet tongue tasted him greedily before it began to force him to the back of its throat. The smell alone made his stomach churn, but he held back the overpowering urge to vomit again as gripped onto anything he could hold onto to long enough to stop himself from sliding down the monster's gullet.

"Please! Hylia! Goddesses! Zelda! Anyone!"

His grip was not strong enough to hold on any longer as the Leviathan tilted its head vertically and gave one last shaking swallow. All Link could do was scream in sheer terror as he was pulled deeper down the throat of the beast. Of all the horrible ways he thought he would die, this was far worse than any hypothetical death his imagination could have ever come up with.