Hi everyone! Yes. I'm alive...somehow? Anyway, I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY ABOUT THIS WAIT. There are numerous reasons for this long break of mine. Reason number one: you guessed it, school. My favorite thing in the whole world. It turned out to be even more work than I was anticipating, SO, I had to stop with the writing for a while. It broke my heart a little. Reason number two: a writer's block. This also broke my heart. I literally could not think of ANYTHING. But, finally, it came to me (literally at one o'clock in the morning last week) and I couldn't stop writing. I hope you guys didn't forget about me, because I PROMISE I didn't forget you! I just didn't get the chance or have the motivation to get back on this wonderful site. Anyway, if you guys need refreshers, just look back at the chapters before this and things should be clear. I hope this chapter is a worthy one for your wait! I LOVE YOU ALL. ENJOY NOW 3

Chapter Twenty-Four: History

"I've been considering your punishment for a while now, darling. It really saddens me, thinking that after everything I do, you still haven't learned anything. After everything that has happened, you still don't know what it means to truly be a Rebel. Embarrassing...pathetic, if you will."

Damita remained as silent as a statue.

"And you don't even have anything to say about it! The audacity in you young people." Master was at the point of mocking her, but she no longer felt the humiliation she would've felt yesterday. Her pride had taken over, and slowly, her temper was rising.

"Do whatever you want with me. Kill me, if you want...and then watch your camp crumble," she sighed nonchalantly. Her voice was smooth and defiant, without a single hint of shakiness. The expression that crossed her Master's face, the anger and surprise, was almost enough to make her laugh.

"So now you're asking me for death," he hissed.

"I never asked for it. I simply accept it, if it's the fate you should choose. And I'm reminding you of the consequences of doing so. Regardless of my mistakes, you, and I, and everybody in this god-forsaken camp know what would happen if I was dead."

This time, Master was the silent one. The satisfaction that rushed through her at that particular moment was thrilling. He knew that she was right; he couldn't lay a finger on her.

"You dance with foolishness, my love," he growled.

"Maybe. But right now...so do you. It's an easy dance, is it not?" She flashed him her sweetest, most seducing smile. His dark brow furrowed, and his thick lips curled in frustration. Only a few days ago, Damita would have ridiculed herself for causing such feelings to stir within her Master; she would have forced herself to hold her tongue. But she was done playing that game. She was sick of letting him sulk in the shadows while she dried up beneath the blistering heat of the desert sun.

"So. Tell me of this punishment that you have so thoroughly thought out."

Master suddenly straightened up, recovering his leisurely stature. Clasping his beefy hands behind his back, he began his signature pacing throughout the tent. Damita's flashing eyes followed him incredulously, waiting for his response. He waited a few moments until he was certain that the anger within him had sufficiently subsided.

"No punishment."

"...Interesting."

"Please, don't act so relieved," he spat, smoothly sarcastic.

"I'm not acting. Nor am I relieved. I was just expecting it." She grinned again. Rather than scream and lash out at her, as she knew he was dying to, he threw his head back and laughed. Damita could see that she was rattling his chain quite vivaciously and beginning to crack through his empty façade of niceties. Her plan was working.

"Were you? Such a clever little cat."

"If I wasn't clever, I wouldn't be your best assassin."

"Again, I cannot argue."

With a dramatic flutter of his dark cape, embellished with the familiar symbol of the Rebellion Camp, he turned to face her head on, with a shadowy expression. She saw fire flash in his eyes, and for the first time since her return, felt only the slightest pang of fear.

"Now, Damita, how would it be logical for me to punish you when I have another mission for you?"

That question, so sadistic and snide, was what nearly sent her off the edge.

Less than a day. I've been back less than a day, and already he's giving me these missions? Humph. I suppose that's the worst punishment I can get.

Of course, Damita could not show any hints of exasperation. That was what he wanted, and at that point, she was desperate to deprive him of that.

"...What is it?"

"You will depart in a week, first for Lake Hylia. Once you are finished there, you will proceed to Death Mountain."

"To what end, Master?" she sighed. He chuckled, and continued pacing. She noticed him coming sneakily closer to her with every step, but chose to ignore it.

"You of all people would know about the strategies of the Loyalists. You know of their tactics...and the capabilities of their leader. Why, you've experienced it numerous times!"

"And? Please, Master, get to the point."

"Don't you dare taunt me, girl. I have more power than you can imagine." His voice was losing the steady stature to which Damita was so accustomed. She could feel the trembles in his words.

"The mission, sir?" She ultimately decided to restrain herself, even if it was a little bit; the fact that he was not killing her meant that maybe she was getting somewhere. She warned herself not to push it.

"As I was saying," he sighed, "Link is a very strategic leader. In fact, he believes that his plans are foolproof. Which, so far, they have proven to be. But I know what he is planning to do. I know his next step." Master was forgetting about his anger in his passion; the lust for power that had originally intrigued Damita was shining through once more, and she was grateful for his gradual slip out of aggravation.

"And what step might that be?"

"They have Princess Zelda at their disposal. Surely, almost certainly, Link's next step will be to gain the allegiance of the Gorons and the Zoras in their fight against our patriotic rebellion cause. Why would he do this? Because, he knows our plan. He knew from the beginning of my intentions to turn the princess's people against her." Master's words splurged from his mouth in a flurry, almost as if he couldn't control the flow of his thoughts.

"Sir, how can you be certain that—?"

"I know how he thinks," he interrupted condescendingly, pausing and straightening his back. "I know what goes on inside the head of a Loyalist. I've battled them long enough to know."

"Very well then." Damita refused to praise him, even though his conclusions were brilliant. The more he spoke of it, the more Damita realized how true his words were. That was exactly what Link would do: use diplomacy when violence fails.

"Therefore, I want you to go to the Princess Laruto...and Darunia...and convince them to detest the princess. She did allow the capture of their people...did she not?" Snickering, he lifted a newspaper from his table: the one with the victims' of his kidnappings on the cover. "In my opinion, they should detest her anyway."

"Master, the Zoras and the Gorons have had strong alliances with the Hylian Royal Family for years. It's no surprise that they would not easily lose their faith in the princess," Damita added. The man, still hidden in his sulky pool of shadows, nodded in agreement.

"Exactly. You are persuasive, and cunning—more so than any princess. So much so that you have even the Loyalist leader under your spell."

Damita knew that Master would take notice of her loss of control at the comment. She flinched, directing her gaze to the ground and trying feebly to control the quickly increasing pace of her heart. He was pointing out her flaws again, knowing her reaction. He was testing her.

"And?" She said the only thing she could think to say that would allow her to keep her passion under control.

"You will be able to convince the Zora princess and the Goron patriarch of where their allegiance should lie. Our attempt to turn Zelda's kingdom against her still has hope; after the Zoras and the Gorons...we move on to the Hyrulean people." Master began pacing once more, with a slightly insane grin on his face and a cruel flare in his eyes. The fear inside of her was augmented by his current appearance.

"I will do as you wish," she replied. Abruptly, he softened his expression and stepped closer to her. She could simply feel the hatred—and, somewhere, the admiration—emanating between them. And she knew it was mutual.

"Tell me, my beautiful desert killer...is it not the most clever and cunning idea?" He looked straight into her eyes.

He sees right through me.

For a few moments, she thought about what she would reply.

I could stay defiant, and say something to the effect of insulting him...

Or I could just do what he wants, because he won't be happy any other way...

Or I could keep my mouth shut and see what he does! Ha, that would really show him.

She decided that for now, it was easier to fall into his mold.

"Extremely so, Master." She put on her own mask, almost matching his, and bowed her head respectfully.

"Good. Nabooru will be joining you. Go prepare." He gave a smile that looked more like a satisfied snarl, and turned his back to her triumphantly. Resisting the urge to spit defiantly at his feet, Damita whirled around and walked out. The encounter had been somewhat successful...

Now the most worrisome thing on her mind was her new mission of convincing the Zoras and the Gorons of something that was completely false.

That part wasn't even the most frightening.

What frightened Damita the most was the prospect of running into Link on the way.

Since it was the evening before their departure, Zelda and Link had decided to skip the tutoring that night. The princess knew that somewhere inside of his tent, he was panicking; he would be doing his best to hide it, of course. He was surely pacing his tent pensively, clenching and unclenching his fists, chewing at the stray skin on his lower lip in raw anxiety. Zelda figured that she should've been panicking, as well. She was, in fact, about to embark upon a journey throughout the kingdom as a refugee princess, hiding from a secret society plotting to kill her. Even more intimidating was the fact that it was with Link, and Link alone. And yet, strolling along the bank of the stream in the tranquility of the night, Zelda was perfectly calm. Her eyes meandered from the moon, down to her own serene reflection, and back up to the starry sky. Behind her, she could hear the soft murmur of the Loyalist camp, and the distant crackling of the bonfires.

Her mind had wandered so far that she hadn't realized that she had veered far from the stream. She was now walking up a hill, almost in a trance, further and further from the camp. The upward slope led her into a small circular alcove, surrounded by an impenetrable wall of rocks and effectively isolated from the rest of the camp. Glancing back, she could no longer make out the dark silhouettes of the inhabitants of the camp. Zelda hadn't even known that this small area existed, for it was so far from the camp, and nobody had ever taken the time to show it to her. She found herself wondering if Sheik actually knew about it, or if Link was even aware of its existence.

It was evidently ignored, either way. Vines and aging moss stretched along the rock walls, and weeds grew in extreme abundance along the dirty ground. On one side of the area, there were old poles sticking up from the ground; bugs had eaten through the wood, and the dummies that once stood on these poles were tattered and in pieces. Their remains were scattered at the base of the poles. It seemed almost as if long ago, perhaps decades ago, they had once been used for training. It was obvious that that was no longer the case. Zelda took a step forward, and narrowed her eyes in an attempt to see clearly through the darkness. Soon enough, in realization, her eyes widened and her feet stood frozen.

There, a few yards away from her against the back walls of the area, was an abandoned house. It was not just any house, though. It was a tree house, perched high above the ground. It looked completely deserted, yet intriguing in a way that drew Zelda toward it like bees to flowers in the middle of spring. A shaky ladder stood against the trunk of the sturdy tree, leading straight up to the entrance of the broken-down residence. The princess glanced back once more behind her—was this really so useless that nobody knew about it? Surely they knew.

So why has it been completely deserted?

Curiosity pushed her forward, toward the broken and battered rungs of the ladder. Her logic and reason deterred her from the endeavor as she analyzed the dangers of climbing, but her raw desire for adventure and knowledge overshadowed these doubts. Smiling in a combination of anxiety and excitement, she wrapped her fingers around a rung, and immediately felt the blooming pain of the splinters. She rocked the ladder back and forth, checking its sturdiness. To her surprise, it held rather well, and supported her weight as she placed her feet upon it hesitantly. The climb up to her destination was nerve-wracking, but distracting; she almost completely forgot about the journey she would be undertaking in the morning. She almost stopped questioning Link's decision to bring her with him. She almost stopped worrying about what he thought about her, or what this journey would bring for their relationship...

Dust flew around her feet as they made contact with the vestibule at the top of the ladder. Coughing but still relentless, Zelda walked into the house, leaving the darkness outside to enter a different kind of darkness. She started thinking that perhaps it would have been wise to bring a source of light. Then, as if answering her thoughts, her eyes fell upon an ancient lantern standing on a shelf, bathed in the white moonlight shining through a hole in the house. It felt absolutely decrepit in her hands, as if it had not been used for centuries. For all she knew, it hadn't. Yet it was heavy, and upon closer inspection, still filled to the brink with oil.

"How do you...oh!" She jumped back as she accidentally lit the lantern, igniting the helpful fire within it. "Perfect."

She could now see herself standing within an old house, indubitably abandoned for years. When she breathed in the musky aroma, she could simply smell the history thriving inside of this place. More ladders led down to upper stories. On the far side of the room was a fireplace, obviously empty and cold. The remains of ripped tapestries sat on the walls, and there was even a moth-eaten carpet covering the floor. She could see somebody living a simple lifestyle in here, and smiled as her imagination ran wild with possibilities.

Well, somebody must have lived here at one point, she thought as she walked forward with her lantern. It has all the evidence implying a home of some kind...

This was the kind of discovery in which the princess relished. The history of her kingdom was her passion, and seeing such a prime example of it made her heart race in ecstasy. There was even an open—though empty—treasure chest in the center of the room, and though she couldn't tell exactly the date it was from, she knew it was old. Blue treasure chests like this hadn't been found in years.

This is amazing. Why doesn't anybody say anything about this place?

She climbed the ladder, which was also surprisingly strong, up to the next platform of the house. There was not much there beside a table and a few old, beautifully preserved pictures. Here, the princess let out a small gasp, and held up the lantern to the pictures. She leaned in as close as she could, narrowing her eyes and taking in every detail of the depictions.

"These could be decades...no, centuries old!" she whispered. The first picture was of a horse. It was a beautiful one that was, frighteningly, almost identical to Epona. The horse stood with a complete saddle and bridle, beautiful and majestic, at what seemed to be the base of this house. Zelda smiled softly, realizing that the owner of the house must have also been the owner of this horse.

The second picture was of a strange little group of animals. They seemed like goats, huddled together, eating. A couple of them stared up at the taker of the picture, braying. Zelda chuckled to herself, almost able to hear the curious questions of the creatures. The picture was frayed on the edges, but still in wonderful condition.

The third picture was lovely. Zelda had to get onto her knees to look at it properly, and the wood creaked as she did so, holding up the lantern closely. This picture was of the horse once more; however, there was a boy beside it. She immediately guessed that this boy, standing and smiling with his hand on the horse's neck, was both its owner and the owner of the house. She couldn't see the features of his face because they were blurred with the bad quality of the pictures themselves, but she could see the broad smile on his shockingly young features. His hair was shaggy and fell on his forehead messily, and his clothes were old-fashioned.

The last picture was the most fascinating. Two people were standing arm in arm, one boy with pointed ears and one girl with round eras. Both of them were very young, and the boy appeared to be the same one from the other picture. The girl was rather pretty, and there was a large smile on her radiant face as she enthusiastically leaned against the boy. The features were much less blurred in this particular picture, and Zelda could clearly make out his face this time.

He was beautiful, and wore the same clothes as he had in the other picture. It was obvious that the two friends were close. He had piercing, feral eyes, and a soft, comforting smile...He looked exactly, stunningly like Link. They could've been the same person. It was enough to give her chills.

Zelda stumbled backwards, letting the lantern fall to the floor. Her head suddenly ached, as if somebody were drilling needles into her brain, and her entire body trembled. She knew who the boy was; regardless of the fact that he looked exactly like Link, there was something else about him. It made her teeth chatter and her entire mind shake. It was almost as if she felt connected to the boy in the picture, as if there was something she should've known about him...

More pictures lined the wall. The rest were of them were all of the boy, except one—it was of an older man who seemed angry at being pictured. All of the pictures of this boy resembled Link with chilling detail; of course, this boy was smiling and enjoying himself, while Link rarely smiled. Still, there was something else about him. Zelda's headache increased with each picture she examined.

"How old are these? Fifty years old, at the least," she mumbled, stuttering over her words. "I can't know him. That wouldn't be possible."

The lantern had gone out...but there was still light.

It was coming from the back of her hand, in the form a triangle.

A little bit creepy, I know ;) There it is, after months of waiting, the next installment of this story. I'm not going to give up on it, and I hope you guys don't either! I LOVE YOU, don't forget to reviewwwwwww my lovely friends :) See you (hopefully) soon!