Chapter 24: Speaking with Spirits

Link sighed at the broken mess it front of him. The Kokiri will not be happy about this development. First he transforms their treasure sword into something totally different. They were grudgingly accepting about that, considering that his ability to survive depended very heavily on his ability to kill quicker. Then he snapped the sword, making it impossible for them to get their relic back. He received an ear-boxing for a while for that, but reason came to them in that nothing is forever and that constant use and wear would have eventually weakened it.

Now he broke their very last item: the Fairy Bow. Saria would kill him.

No wait, she's too sweet and kind and understanding to do that. More like reduce him into mince meat drop him into a lake and hire some contract killers to kill him. That contract killer would most likely be Mido.

Maybe they'll understand his plight. After all, the bow snapped when Link was shooting down the Stalfos that suddenly appeared on the field. They had no time to consider what it meant when Stalchids were being replaced with their more menacing counterparts, and definitely no time to let the bowstring relax. For five minutes the string continuously hummed and sang, arrow after arrow being launched into the eyeholes of the behemoths.

"Well, you can always make a new bow and hope no one notices." Navi suggested, floating close the bent wreck. "Then again, this is a unique design. You might not be able to trick everyone."

Reza gingerly picked up the wire that fell loose. Where the body received a splintering crack right down the middle, the recoil made the wire roll up into a tangle not unlike barbed wire. "I don't see what's so special about that bow that you cannot use another." The craft was superb, she had to admit, but not being a bow-user herself she didn't give a hoot to whether it was good or better,

"It's not that it's specific," Link fretted, nervously clenching and unclenching his hands, "it's just that who can I ask to make a good bow? Kakariko isn't a war factory, the Kokiri only made that bow to celebrate the fifteen hundredth birthday of the Great Deku Tree and no offence to the King but his armoury is hopelessly bad."

Reza rolled her eyes at him. "You could always ask the Gerudo, you know." She personally agreed with Link on the matter of the royal armoury. Once she was using a generous knight's helmet as a battering dolly to train on, and after four hits the last one managed to cleave right through it. Poor workmanship; any fool wearing that would have a heck of a time dodging blows to the head.

Malik shuddered, remembering the last time he visited. Reza's devil of a sister tried to make his body freaking explode. Curse the Gerudo and their enjoyment of spices. He mentally added a few choice swearwords to use against Sierra as well. "They can't help you." He said abruptly, hoping that this would deter Link from dragging them to that horrid place.

"Au contraire," Reza said cheerfully, delighting in Malik's displeasure, "since my culture is based around fighting of kinds, we're the best people to go to for references on weapons and the like. Link, I'm sure you know how much attention we spend on archery as well, so it shouldn't be that hard to fit you with a decent bow."

Link mulled it over, nodding his head slowly in agreement. He wondered why Reza didn't bother with the bow, but maybe it was considered second-class to fighting with two scimitars. "Good point. Let's go to the Gerudo Fortress."

Malik's face soured. "Do we have to?"

Link shrugged his shoulders. "You don't have to follow if you don't want to. Just head back to Kakariko Village and once we've done our business over there we'll return to pick you up."

Being slap bang in the middle of the Hyrule Field meant that it would take at least two nights worth of riding to reach his hometown. The prospect of facing dozens of Stalfos alone didn't sound very appealing to Malik. Grumbling slightly he shook his head, choosing to accompany Link instead – better a burnt stomach than a dead body, although with the Gerudo that line was getting finer and finer with the more encounters he had.

Link was still by far unarmed, of course. Wielding his deadly magic meant that anything ignitable feared him, and of course his Megaton hammer and Hookshot made him still the considerable foe. Due to personal reasons Link left the Biggoron Sword back in his house (reason being that it was too damned heavy for him to swing around with enough finesse).

"So what're you going to do over there?" Link asked Reza. "Going to catch up with a few acquaintances?"

She didn't spend much time thinking for an answer. "Train. It's best not to waste the facilities given to me. Maybe I'll see how the Black Gerudo and Sierra are getting along – I've always wondered how they did their stunts. What are you going to do Malik? Cower in a hole somewhere?"

"There are holes to cower in?" Malik asked hopefully, his eyes glistening with joy."

"No."

Despair struck him again, his back hunching in dejection. "I'll find a way to master the arts of not being found."

-

A glimpse of Castletown would show that the people were doing their daily tasks of peddling, buying and delivering as usual. A tense feeling of uncertainty hanged over them nevertheless, a feeling that will not go away whilst the looming walls of the Temple of Time still held their shattered windows.

A great monument to the wonders of human architecture, few knew of its hidden depths, of the powers resting behind its secret doors. Many understood the legend of the Master Sword and the Triforce, but not all could comprehend how close it was to them and the evil sealed within it.

But not all of the Sacred Realm was tainted. The doorway to the Realm, the Chamber of Sages was continually cleansed by the powers of the six sages that visited routinely. If there was nothing on their agenda they would focus on spreading their powers to purge the darkness of the Sacred Realm, although most of their efforts were exhausting yet accomplishing little.

Today however there was something that required their attention. Rauru, Saria, Darunia, Ruto, Impa and Nabooru, all gathered in the great mystical halls. Well, gathered was an incorrect term, since all they did was cast their spirits into the Chamber of Sages, except Rauru who kept constant vigilance and pretty much lived there.

It was Ruto who mentioned the matter that brought them all there. In her usual attitude, she skipped the pleasantries and courtesy to dive straight into the matter. "Stalfos," she declared, "are encroaching everywhere. At night they're managing to steadily inch closer towards Zora Domain. I don't know what in their animated monstrous bodies gives them brains, but night-by-night they manage to think of ways to get pass the rivers."

Nabooru nodded in agreement. "Luckily we have the desert in between us and the Field, but scouts have reported of Stalfos trying to cross the Desert. Thankfully all of them die from the intense cold, but the first worry is why we're no longer dealing with Stalchids instead."

Darunia rumbled in thought. "Well, if we follow the Stalchid story, they arrived from our wars as lost souls. Maybe the Stalfos are the same?"

Impa chuckled darkly at that. "Any soul that can animate something so foul has to be very dark. I refuse to believe that there are that many souls with such darkness within them. They weren't there a week ago, so there has to be a different reason why they're here now."

"Link said he made a mistake of making a sword with the madness of the Forests concentrated in it. Perhaps that is sparking all of this?" Saria offered, although she seemed unsure of her own suggestion.

Rauru sighed, looking sadly at his potbelly. When he was alive and with a body, not a day would be spent without enjoying one delicacy or another. From the Gerudo curries to the Kakariko fried noodles, he sampled and savoured them all. Now sealed in the astral plane that was now a distant memory. He jolted himself out of his nostalgia when everyone looked at him for his opinion on the matter. Coughing to clear his throat, he shuffled his orange robes a bit before speaking.

"Perhaps Link's mistake is generated all the darkness needed to disfigure the lost souls, but that should in theory only make them appear near Link, not everywhere. I think however Saria has the right idea: it's a new thing causing these new circumstances. Now, aside from Link's sword, we can draw back to the events of the church being desecrated and that soldier in the Castle being possessed."

Everyone was quiet at that. No one liked to think of its implications. "They say a demon did it." Nabooru said after a while, frowning. "I remember meeting one demon at the Fortress. Scarily overpowered and the works, it even had an army of Dark Copies following it. That one died."

Ruto groaned. "Ugh, so there are more of those things then."

Nabooru nodded. "While the demon itself is a bit worrying, the fact that some of the Copies were moulded after Snakemen is worth consideration."

Ah yes, Snakemen. A mythic race that was meant to have extinguished itself battling against the Zora for control over their domains, some said that they managed to flee in exile to another continent altogether, the rest believing the story that all were wiped out. While not like the Wolfos in the sense that they were driven by instinct and bloodthirst only, they weren't like the Zoras either in their fascination over killing and death.

Impa shrugged. "Maybe the demons have a living version and are created copies of it. That would be a quick way to expand their army."

Saria looked dubious at that. "If we follow your theory, it would hit a roadblock on how a single creature can survive alone. There has to be at least one other of the opposite gender, and if two are alive, who's to say that two hundred are not?"

Darunia grunted at that. "Yes, that's a problem, but let's tackle the first one we came here for. What are we going to do with all these Stalfos? It's making trade a little bit difficult since not all tradesmen are properly equipped to deal with such a hazard."

"The trades problem isn't too bad," Impa said indifferently, waving her hand. "Just make sure every caravan has an escort of six guards and no one wanders around at night and that should be dealt with."

"My suggestion is that we place charms all over the field to make it harder for Stalfos and Stalchids alike to form." Saria said. "We just hand them to the merchants and ask them to place one at every two hundred metres, so at least the trade routes will be protected. We can then create the practice of replacing aging ones. The Kokiri don't have much to do and Link has already educated them lightly in magic; they should be able to make some charms for me to distribute."

Rauru nodded. "True, I can get Kaepora Gaebora to carry those charms to the farms and cities. It unfortunately is not dealing with the problem, just the symptoms. This is one large cause-and-effect matter."

Impa nodded. "So we know the cause might be Link's mistake and the demon. Now what are we meant to do about that? Even if we explain to Link, I doubt he'll be so willing to part with his sword in fear that it'll go horribly wrong without his restraining presence."

Ruto chuckled at that. "Link seems to see himself as quite the miracle man. I'm sure that we can persuade him that all six sages might do a better job than him alone."

Darunia shrugged his shoulders. "A miracle man he might think himself, but to me a miracle maker he already is. Didn't he save us all in the future and battle Ganon? We all questioned whether our powers even united would stand a chance against Ganon, but Link managed to pit himself against the beast and win. Besides, he's seen more than us in terms of the demon we're facing, so he might know what we're dealing with better than us."

"So what do we do about his sword?" Nabooru asked.

Rauru sighed. Saria and he were the oldest of all the Sages (although he wished he was like Saria in that she didn't show it) and it seemed that everyone else was still as impetuous as ever in not being able to think long enough. "We call Link over, and give him something like the Medallions we gave to him a Time ago." Rauru mentally congratulated himself on that – not making the mistake of saying the past and not the error of saying the future. "Nothing as big and fancy, but something so that we can always keep our presence nearby so we can react to any changes in it and give a suppressing aura."

Ruto nodded, clearly agreeing with his plan. "Alright, so what do we do about the demon?"

"We first have to wait for it to appear." Saria said thoughtfully. "If we give our medallions to Link, since it's bound to appear near him we shouldn't wait long for its arrival. From there the best I can think of is that we try and seal the demon where he stands and hope Link can vanquish it."

Nabooru sighed, rubbing her temples. "Demons are slippery things, I doubt that will work. I can't think of anything better than that however, so we might as well stick to that plan. Trick A will be finding Link."

Rauru smiled. "My trusted owl friend has found that his course has changed and he's heading straight to the Desert. It's no trick."

Nabooru blinked, wondering what he would want over there. Maybe Reza persuaded him to. "Okay then, Trick B will be giving the amulets or whatever to Link. I don't think we can all pass them to me so I can hand them over, can we?"

Everyone looked at each other. They never tried it before, so maybe it would work. It didn't go as expected, Nabooru instead receiving bolts of darkness and light, streams of fire and ice and getting entangled in vines.

"Nope, we can't. And we're trying another time." She managed to cough out.

-

Link didn't really like using the Megaton hammer. Epona, his brave steed, could not be shaken by the new monsters but didn't like the vibrations from the ground as he slammed the hammer's almighty weight to and fro.

Of course, she was perfectly happy if his strikes were direct hits, and Link was very willing to change the rules slightly to her whim. With the weight of the hammer it was incredibly slow in motion, but any hits meant a lot of damage.

Link wiped the sweat from his brow once finishing dispatching the charging Stalfos. Resting the hammer's head on the ground, he took the short time to admire the Stalfos' shattered shield where it suffered direct impact. Looking aside briefly showed that Reza was quite successfully gutting down a Stalfos all by herself and strangely enough Malik's knives were quite effective when he worked with Epona.

"I prefer the easy shorter versions." Reza muttered, frowning at her blunted sword. She hadn't sharpened it in the last few weeks, so it was understandable, but very ill timed. "The sooner we get to the Fortress, the better. I don't think I can last another night without decent sleep."

Malik groaned in agreement, slumping against Epona, clapping her shoulder in gratitude. For a small horse she must have weighed a tonne: most Stalfos, once trampled over, chose not to get up. His dinky little knives wouldn't have done much damage against their thick bones and quick shields, but with him the distraction and Epona the real weapon it wasn't much trouble taking the recent opponent down easily.

"If we ride continuously for the next seven or so hours at a brisk trot, we should reach there in time." Link estimated, gazing at the moon. "Night should end in another eight hours."

Malik moaned. "Dear Din I don't think I can stand another eight hours of fighting. I'm not the aggressive type."

No matter what they had faced and dangers they've understood, they were still children regardless and therefore were not properly built to stand two nights without sleep. Link was too lazy to run around and smash in skeletons, so instead revised his spell Din's Fire to become a ball of fire that he could launch and expect to incinerate a clean hole through a line of the undead.

Even Epona couldn't keep slugging it on, and as midnight wore on they had to concede defeat to their weariness and find a safe spot to nap in. A bit hard, considering that Stalfos could pop out anywhere. They were lucky however when Link recognised the grounds as where they fought before.

"I remember this tree cover," Link muttered to himself, pausing to look around, "I think I know where we can hide out for a while." By memory he stumbled across the field, concentrating on the scenery illuminated by the moonlight. For a few minutes it seemed that they were going in circles as Link homed into the location.

"I don't think we'll ever find-" Malik's groan was cut short as ground ran out from his feet. Blearily he got up, looking at the passages now surrounding him. "Eh? What's this?"

Link smiled. "Remember where I fought some Dark Angels out here and you two and Malon found out they're weak to blood? Well, this is the underground maze that I managed to dodge around them in. It's a bit small, but that at least means no Stalfos can fit inside."

Link's version of small was quite impressive, actually. The tunnels were wide enough to allow Epona to walk through and tall enough to allow Navi to hover a foot above. Of course, no one took the attention to absorb such details, just happy with the fact that no Stalfos would fit. Slowly the walked towards the main hallway which had been cleared by Link's Goron's Powder Keg's blast to rest. It was a bit sandy, but no one was complaining.

The morning came too quickly for their weary eyes, but it was necessary to travel during daylight and complete the last leg of their journey before night arrived and then there might not be such a certain chance of finding such a lucky hiding spot.

Malik rode Epona this time, his sandals worn so badly that the entire front half was pretty much eroded away. Since he passed and was now approved (albeit a bit unhappily) by the Gerudo, for a small fee someone should be kind enough to replace them. Reza wondered what Sierra would be doing, considering that she wasn't one who enjoyed playing the simpler games of tag.

Her answer came a lot earlier than expected. As was known to everybody, there was a river that led to Lake Hylia that was spanned by a bridge, and you would have to cross that bridge and then finally the desert perils before you reached the Fortress. With the attack from the demon Shukaku defence was stepped up and now sentries armed with the more punishing crossbows and arbalests were positioned here in hopes to use the bridge to choke any army. It was also used to give some of the Gerudo a task to do by routinely changing shifts out here.

It appeared to be Sierra's turn, along with nineteen other Gerudo of varying ages. Everyone under the age of eighteen seemed to have taken quite the fancy to one form of entertainment: fishing. Lines over hundreds of metres long were connected to five feet poles that were meant to be fishing rods. As relaxing fishing is meant to be, the Gerudo version was meant to punish the muscles and let them truly feel the wrath of the river.

As Reza approached Sierra suddenly hopped to her feet, yelling excitedly. "This is going to be a big one!" she called out cheerily, pulling the pole closer to resist the fish's tugs. As Reza looked closer it was quite a primitive fishing rod, just a stick and a string, making her wonder how on earth did you reel a fish in.

That was answered too as three more girls flanked Sierra, holding tight to the shaft and at the count of three flicked it up sharply. Miraculously the string did not snap from all the forces being applied to it and it successfully snapped the fish out of the waters, sending it soaring above their heads.

As it rose further and eclipsed the sun with its form, aside from admiring the spectacle of strength Link could only think about how this gave a new meaning to flying fish. Slowly it halted its ascent and started its descent, accelerating back down, guided by the yanks of the fishing rod beneath. As everyone watched in awe, with an incredibly loud smack it smashed into the bridge.

"Not bad eh?" Sierra smirked, gliding over to her best catch yet, "must be at least twenty pounds. I love this sport."

"Sport?" Reza asked incredulously.

All the girls nodded solemnly. "It takes great patience and strength to hold the fishing rod for as long as we have, and even greater strength and skill to manage to pull even the weakest of fish free of the currents. After that only experience and skill can guide the fish onto the bridge instead of the waters in came from." One girl explained. Sierra smiled broadly.

"Success means that the impact kills the fish too, so no animal cruelty person can argue with this." She added. "It also means that we get to eat something different today. One does tire of the same food day in and day out."

The girls didn't spend much time waiting around to see whether they could convert Reza to their cause as one had to scramble back to her pole to not lose it, and soon enough the rest accompanied to help.

Malik chuckled. "Crazy sport for crazy people. No offence guys, but I don't think any sane man would accept this as something to do for leisure." As if taking offence, his head was the designated landing spot for the next fish. Luckily only the fish died from the contact, but Malik was knocked out cold.

Reza smiled. "I'm liking this game more each second."

-

"You say that you need a new bow, kid?" The Gerudo bow-maker asked, standing imperiously with arms crossed right in front of Link. "Well, I only build bows for people who are good at using them. You're going to need to prove your aim first."

Link shrugged. He already knew how to use a bow well, so anything they throw at him wouldn't be hard.

As if taking his thoughts as a pun, the Gerudo's way of proving your aim was by throwing javelins.

"You see that red patch over there?" she yawned, not caring whether Link could see it or not. "It's roughly two hundred metres away. You see all those sticks in between you and it? Believe it or not they do manage to block javelins. You got fifteen tries to get three javelins inside the red blob."

"But I never learnt how to throw a javelin!" Link said unhappily, holding the wooden shaft awkwardly. He was sure he could improvise as he went along, but whether he would improve quickly enough was another question.

The lady rolled her eyes, muttering about spoilt children nowadays. "Fine," she grumbled, "I'll show you once. If you don't learn it then, touch."

Link nodded. With Navi around, at least he wouldn't have that much trouble memorising details. As she wrapped her fingers around the grip, Link quickly grabbed in the fine points on her foot stance, grip, elbow and shoulders, back and bend in knees. He watched carefully as she finally threw the javelin, taking note of muscle contractions and where the point was.

Her throw wasn't what he was expecting. While it flew smoothly, it struck one of the poles in the way – but instead of being held in place like any obstacle was meant to do, both splintered, sending the shards of the javelin hurled like throwing knives at the target and the snapped pole holding enough momentum to raze down any other obstacle in the way.

At Link's dropped jaw, the Gerudo shrugged. "I'm the best at ranged weapons," she said factually, "and am used at hurling things over six hundred metres, so I can afford to blow some energy in power than range."

Link shook his head in awe. "I thought you were a master of only bows and stuff."

She clucked her tongue in disapproval. "Get you facts straight, kid. A jack of one trade, but master of all: that's me. Everyone runs to me for designs of your great siege ballista to the finer details in crafting blow darts. I make them all and likewise know them all." Smirking, she walked off to grab another wooden javelin before tossing it into the pile. "A javelin is meant to take down a man in armour: you've seen me use it in a method that would shear an entire party into half. Three javelins, remember."

-

Malik blearily awoke to a great pain in his waist. Strange, he thought, a blow to the head should be causing pain to the head. The migraine chose then to show its presence, Malik frowning as it rolled rapidly out of its hiding spot Goddess-knows-where to pummel him with full severity.

Glimpsing down explained why his waist was hurting so much. On one side, a bunch of shorties were poking him continuously, unaware that he was already awake. On the other side, Reza was biding her time by sewing on a pair of askew fairy wings, putting little attention to whether she was pricking Malik or not.

"Pain, pain, stop it please oh the pain," he moaned out, waving away the little madmen and whacking Reza's hand. She sighed disappointedly, generous enough to take out the needle but not kind enough to apologise.

"I remember a time when you wrote on that bloke that you liked fish," Reza commented suddenly, turning around to hunt in a little drawer. Malik took that time to check his waist, frowning at the tiny little scratches from her needle that were thankfully only superficial. He tried batting off the wings, but her stitching was strong enough to resist that.

"You might find interest that fish will be your dinner tonight – now where did I put it – and this time won't be stuffed with chillies," Reza grunted, the sound of shifting against wood pervading. Malik this time tried ripping them off, but coupling their awkward position of rubbing against his armpit and his fear of damaging his own cloth, it wasn't that successful either.

"Ah! Found it! You also might be glad that while your resemblance to a fish is lacking, at least you got the appropriate scaling." Gleefully she brandished a mirror right up to his face.

It was too close for his to see his whole visage, but he didn't need to. From what the mirror told, stamped onto his forehead was the scaling of that monster of a fish, the imprint continuing down past his eyes and ending near the tip of his nose. "Aw, great." Malik moaned, rubbing his head. "Oh, how I needed this right now."

"I'm glad you like it." Reza said a bit too cheerfully for his liking.

"I was being sarcastic." Malik growled unhappily, staring angrily at Reza.

She returned her own glare, her smile never leaving her face. "So was I."

At his groan of 'ungh' and flop back to his bed she cackled incessantly, delighting in his depression. "If you want to take off those charming little wings, there should be a pair of scissors a corridor right and three rooms left for you to snip the strings." With a malicious smile, she bowed before leaving the room, her laugh continuing down the hallway.

Malik groaned, still rubbing his forehead. He hated the Gerudos, most of all Reza. Them and their twisted sense of humour and their strange names. Who would call their child something as odd as Maira V-something or Reza, anyway?

Outside Reza was glad of the time of day; should Malik choose to exit within the following hour there would be at least thirty people who would see him in his deformed costume. A quick look outside showed that she had roughly three hours to train before the sun set and she has to go in for dinner.

Her path to the training ground led her past a couple of women training with their crossbows. Heavier and deadlier than the normal bow, they also had the small problem of needing a lot of time to reload and so the troupe were working through a routine to make sure they kept up a continuous salvo of bolts.

Reza frowned slightly. Unlike the bow, no skill was needed to handle a crossbow – unless you considered aiming a skill, not a talent – meaning that while it was good in the sense that even the younger fighters could donate, Reza felt that it might override the days of the good old fashioned composite bow, meaning that the skills would be dead forever. At present everyone could still use a bow, but what about fifty years in the future? What then?

She waved the matters off quickly enough, drowning her small troubles in routine. Usually she trained with her dual scimitars, but today was the glaive. It was a familiar weight in her hands, everyone training with this weapon first before anything else. Nonetheless years with the lack of practice made it ungainly compared to her usual weapons, something she was determined to flatten out.

"Caring to learn how to fight on horseback?" A voice popped out of nowhere. Surprised Reza used her glaive as a vault pole to catapult herself over and put the weapon in between her and the sound. The person was cloaked in the shadows, making her face indiscernible. Not that Reza needed to see her face to tell who she was: very few people could sneak up on her and less of them had their hair worn long.

"Good evening, Nabooru." Reza greeted formally, pulling back the glaive and nodding respectfully. "Why'd you ask about horseback fighting?"

Nabooru laughed, leaning against the wall. "You haven't been away for long, but already all guards have replaced the glaive for the scimitars. Now only those who want to join the ranks of the cavalry stay with the glaive." She walked to a weapon rack, holding up one glaive and glancing at it admirably. "Are you still good at it?"

Reza shook her head. "I've become quite rusty, truth be told." She admitted, attempting to spin it above her head and failing. "I'll leave you to your practice in solitude."

"Stay a while sister, I didn't come here to practice." Nabooru waved Reza's bow off. "I was actually hunting around for Link, and since I passed you first I thought it might be easier to ask you than run around the remaining half of the Fortress." She placed her glaive back to its rack, choosing to play with the long pike instead.

Reza raised her eyebrow at Nabooru's choice of weapon. Being slightly less than three metres, there wasn't much you could do with it except for jab forward. "Sorry, haven't seen Link for a while. Last time I was with him he was heading off to get a new bow – maybe he's still there."

What Nabooru did contradicted sane action. Instead of doing Reza's expected thrusts and quick lances, she instead hefted it above her shoulder and threw it like a javelin. "In the big picture, this pike would have been a splinter. What everyone needs to learn is how to land that splinter in the enemy's eye." With a wave Nabooru left, heading off to find Link.

Now that she had a general direction to head off to, it didn't take long to find him. In the irony of life she also found him tossing javelins, although not as effectively as she would have expected. Littering the field in front of him were sticks, and nearly all the javelins lodged deep into them.

"I don't think Achika likes you." Nabooru commented. "She never made anyone do this to get a bow."

Link nodded, staring at the last javelin he had in his hand. So far he managed to land two in the red patch, but with twelve everywhere else. He could always get Nabooru to pull her authority and make that lady make him a bow whether this got in or not, but it might be of lesser quality. "I don't see what's the point of doing this. How practical is a javelin in a battle, anyway?"

Nabooru shrugged. "It's best against armoured foes, especially those on horseback. If it doesn't spear them outright, it would either bounce up or down. Up equals bruise and shattered neck, down equals bruise and a horse with a broken spine."

"I thought you guys were nice to horses?"

"We understand the use of horses, yes." Nabooru corrected. "We also understand how useful they might be to the enemy. Like any weapon, if it's in the wrong hands it either must be taken over or eliminated. If you can suggest a way to take the reins from a very long distance, I'm sure we'll adopt it quickly."

Link rolled his eyes at her cruel logic. "Whatever. Personally a bow and a sharp eye is a heck a lot better. And I really need to get this last javelin into the red patch."

Navi buzzed irritably around Link's head. "I told you, I got the maths right! Just aim at the sun at full power and it'll fall into the red patch!" Sighing angrily she twirled, flying straight in front of Nabooru's face. "Can you believe him? 'It won't work', he says, 'I don't believe you', he says. You see? Because he doesn't believe me, he's missed more than he's gotten it right."

Link rolled his eyes. "You might have all the theory correct, Navi, but you've never actually used a ranged weapon yourself. I think my short-lived experience would serve me better."

Nabooru shrugged. "I don't know. I personally say that the chances are that magical beings like spirits and fey creatures tend to be correct most of the time. So, this is your last javelin. Your last shots haven't been all that successful by your method, have they? What do you have to lose, I say."

Navi bobbed in agreement. "I've been helping you target and aim a few years ago, remember? I know you better than you know yourself."

."Fine," Link grumbled, "I say it won't work." As he tensed up to release it with all his might, he was briefly reminded of the time when he received the fire arrows. Aiming at the sun, although today it was the setting sun rather than the rising sun. Both if done correctly would give him a prize of unquestionable value.

With a grunt he threw the javelin, watching with slight disappointment that it didn't fly as high as he expected it to do. He had to agree with Navi in that she knew him better than he himself, because like she predicted it landed slap bang in the centre of the red patch.

"Ha! Who got it right? Who got you your bow? Who just saved your backside? Who's your daddy?" Navi gloated jubilantly, ignoring the strange stares she was receiving from Link.

"Uh, you do know that you're not a guy, right?"

"Don't spoil my fun. Allow me to bathe in the wine of victory. Let me dance on the platform of success. Let me enjoy the fun in saying 'ha!'"

-

With little to do with the sun down, Malik chose to read some of the stories that the Gerudo allowed their children to indulge in. Picking a book at random from the shelf of their great library, he wandered to a table. It took him a while to turn on the gas lamp, muttering to himself about how they needed to replace the rusty switches.

Opening the book, he took the time to admire the pretty pictures that covered the front page. It had elaborate pictures of angels circling around a sword. The angels, in typical Gerudo fashion were red-haired ladies with a sheathed scimitar at their waists. What Malik found strange was that instead of their favoured scimitar sword the sword in their enveloping ring was a longsword, one with a blue hilt and a diamond encrusted where the blade met the guard. Instead of it planted in a steeple amidst the dunes of sand he would have expected, this sword glowed in its hold within marble floors and an ethereal wall. Emblazoned on its marble pedestal was the golden symbol of the Triforce, surrounded by six symbols. Malik could identify one of them from Sheikah legend.

Malik was surprised about the ancient Hylian script at the base of the image. Luckily Zelda had taught them a small bit of it, and it was enough for him to read the two words: Master Quest.

Alas it was not enough for him to read the rest of the entire script. Gingerly he turned each page, and page by page were smothered by the ancient Hylian language on one half and the Gerudo special language on the other. As he unhappily flipped the pages – and managed to count three hundred and forty two pages – the only consolation of his lack of understanding was the occasional pretty picture of not so pretty events.

Pity, it was such an interesting title too.

As he recounted the page numbers and envisioned what the images wanted him to envision: an age of horror, Sierra waltzed in probably in search for a specific book. Seeing Malik's forlorn page lifting, after checking in her book with the librarian, she sidled over to see what he was so unhappy about.

"Ah, an excellent choice. I personally recommend this book." Sierra said congenially. "I'm not sure you would be allowed to borrow it, though. You got to own a library card."

Malik nodded glumly. "Yes, those are some interesting images. Pity I can't read the text."

Sierra leafed through the pages, chuckling now and then at some joke Malik couldn't read. "If you want, tomorrow I think I could read it out to you. Damned person in charge won't give me a rest: today my job at the front ends, tomorrow my job at the nursery begins. You could just tag along while I read it out to them."

Malik scratched his head. "Thanks, but Reza will probably take the opportunity to call me babyish. Her insults can cut deep sometimes."

Sierra shrugged. "Your call. You can come if you want, or waddle around this fortress if you don't. Tell me when you're done admiring Gerudo art: I need to check that book later."

Mumbling something about thinking about it he shut the cover and slid it over to Sierra. Clicking and giving him the thumbs up, she grabbed a book quickly from a shelf, saying that was her second top preference before signing the first book out and departing.

Much like the first book, the first page was filled with pictures. Squinting his eyes he attempted to read the tiny ancient Hylian print at the bottom of the page. Muttering to himself, he racked his brains to figure out what it meant.

"… Something… mask. Ma… Mask. Eh? Ma – Jo – Ra Mask. Majora's Mask." Flipping through the pages, he sighed deeply. "Damn. Another interesting book in a different language."

He couldn't really make up his mind about Sierra. Unlike Reza, she was nice and kind to him. Like Reza, she sometimes acted ignorant and making it seems like an intentional slight against him and sincerity really sarcasm.

-

Achika wouldn't call herself old, and will teach anyone who called her that the true meaning of hot sand. She had seen many things from the birth of Ganondorf to the senility of Maira number… something. She had of course seen other people pass her test of spears, but not one with such an incredibly poor aim.

When Link said he was a newbie, she believed him. She just couldn't believe he was that bad – a javelin somehow managed to plunge itself wrong way round into the ground a few metres to his left. Somehow he managed to progress from such an appalling aim into successfully getting the required three into the red circle.

"Well, I hate to admit to this, but no matter how god awful you might be, you somehow had enough divine luck to make you pass my test barely." She grunted approvingly, although it was hard for Link to hear whether she was being acerbic or not. "Now just tell me your minimum requirements and I'll see how well I can make it."

Link smiled gratefully. "Well, the first obvious thing is that I need it for a left-hander, and while small enough for me right now big enough to allow for a bigger hand later on. The wood or whatever you're using needs to be able to keep working with fairly often bursts of heat near it as well as freezing cold. It also shouldn't shrivel at light magic too."

Achika gave him a strange stare. "I think I can build to that. Anything else, or can I go to work now?"

Link pondered his next request. "If it's possible, can you make it so that the whole thing can take a continuous string of shocks, like if I keep shooting rapidly for a few minutes? That should prevent it from breaking like last time."

She shrugged. "I don't know, I never tested my materials to see how durable they were to that type of stress. If you can find someone to enchant the bow, I'll put a special core into the handle to store the magic."

After taking a few measurements of his thumb, hand span, wrist width and length from middle knuckle to elbow and shoulder she waved him off, telling him to come back in a few days for a bit of testing.

"That was easy," Navi said after they parted with Nabooru, "hopefully Gerudo craftsmanship is close enough to our own."

"Easy for you, the most you would have felt was a headache," Link complained, "my arm is killing me right now. I wonder what Nabooru wants to say to us tomorrow."

"Maybe she's come to say that they've found your dandruff covering their prized possessions and want to interrogate you?" At Link's incredulous stare, she rolled her eyes. "It's a joke, can't you tell?"

"No, quite frankly, I can't."

-

At the bridge post, people thanked the strength stored behind crossbows. Bolt after bolt they fired, hoping to push back the slow swarm of Stalfos that tried to cross the bridge. With twenty people firing away in turns, it appeared that they would be able to hold them back for tonight at least. Skulls splintered apart as each bolt crashed violently into it, but the piling skeletons were making it harder for those at the post to shoot the Stalfos' behind.

It was quite a surprise when they found that they didn't have any more bolts. Frightened, a decision had to be made: abandon the post and run, or fight and pray that you survive. They were among the proud race of the Gerudo, and given this case of fight or flight, they picked fight.

With a yell they all jumped out, scimitars shining in the moonlight. The Stalfos were caught by surprise and so fell quickly, but the surprise quickly wore off. Where a wall of spinning blades would have gutted apart entire lines, now they had to cast that tactic aside and fight one to one, and if lucky two on one.

They weren't that lucky. With the time it took to dispatch one, slowly more and more skeletons approached to engage them in battle, slowly they gave ground. When it appeared that they wouldn't be able to defeat them all, another decision was hit.

The young ones ran back to the post, discarding their scimitars for axes and torches. In a brave attempt to buy time, the older Gerudo made the suicidal choice of spinning forward, turning blade and body into twirling razors. Finally when the energy ran out and they were forced to stop, they all scrambled back to the bridge where the others were working on chopping it down.

One Gerudo kissed her weapon, praying for Din's guidance before throwing it, the spinning sword knocking off a skull and plunging deep into the next. As everyone threw their weapons to take down as many as possible, the last rope was cut, the last beam shattered.

"You won't be getting past this, hopefully." One guard muttered, kneeling down in prayer. As they heard the angry chitter on the other side, Stalfos piling by the side, it was now time to head back to the Fortress and alert the others to the news. They were lucky no one died today from the Stalfos.

They would be lucky if they got past the desert perils unarmed, unharmed.

-

Nabooru watched the moon rise past her window, flipping the little coin that she wished for Link to keep near. She had actually considered giving him a medallion much like the other time, but unlike last time he wouldn't have stored them in goddess-knows-where and wearing six medallions would be a bit strange. She then considered giving him a badge he could knit onto his shirt, but contrary to popular belief he did not only wear one shirt.

So her final decision was something he could keep in his wallet. Powering it with a little amount of her specialised magic she felt it echo it back to her, proving that it worked. Sighing she gazed outside, staring past the desert sands.

"Why are you here, darkened souls?" Nabooru whispered, "What is it that binds you to our realm? Release your shackles of fury and drop those chains of hate. Who have you pledged vengeance against? What is your business deep in the sands? What force seals your soul here?" As expected, there was no response from the desert. "As if something that has been twisted and defiled to become a Stalfos can still reason."

Earlier on Link asked whether he could go to the Spirit Temple to commune for a bit of knowledge on weapon forging. When she asked why he would need her permission his answer was that she might be suspicious if she suddenly felt a summoning that she didn't know about and she might not be so happy if he got the wrong spirit.

That brought up a very good point: what would happen if he does get the wrong spirit? With something darkening the intentions of most wandering souls, the chances were anyone he would call upon would be very nasty and vent its annoyance on the closest construct: the Gerudo Fortress. Nabooru wasn't sure if she had the time in her schedule to hang around and regulate everything that happened, but if she didn't then Link won't be able to learn whatever was needed, and if that worked against his creation of the Second Seal.

Nabooru was a smart woman, and decisions between two choices were her best quality. Standing up she raised her enchanted coin up so that the moon made a silver halo around it. Smirking slightly she resorted to her best decision-maker: coin flipping.

"Huh, looks like my schedule needs a little tweaking." She muttered to herself. She paused, remembering talking to oneself is a sign of madness. Shrugging her shoulders, who was there to hear her do it? "A Second Seal, eh? What's wrong with the first seal? I thought we were doing a pretty good job maintaining it. I think Link mentioned something about needing some type of filter, I can't remember. Ah well, if the Goddesses demand one made, who am I to argue?"

Nabooru was not really a religious lady, despite her job as one of the Goddesses' appointed retainer. Her belief was that if you'll be punished for not praying, then they are not worth praying to. But now, with such calamities slowly appearing, a bit of prayer wouldn't do any harm.

"Hey Din, listening or not, I'm still going to talk to you." A rather unnatural start to a prayer, but Nabooru believed they enjoyed a bit of spice in their prayers. "You've seen the problems arising around Hyrule. The protection you made for us: the open desert has managed to keep us safe, but I really got to question for how long? I'm not asking you for any major miracles – although kicking out all the demons would be a plus – just that if you can spare any help, I'm sure all of your creations would thank you for it."

A prayer for the night, a call of faith for the day. To tackle the problems in the dark, and face the new ones in the light. She'll see what has been thrown her way in the morning.

-

Malik yawned, unhappy that he couldn't scratch his itch with so many people around. Most of them were less than five years old, but the younger a child is the more apt she is to talk – and what Malik doesn't need is people hearing of him scratching down there.

Gerudo mentality was strange – who woke up the children at six in the morning just to tell a story? Like every decent human being Malik enjoyed sleeping in, but no… too much sleep is for wimps in this part of the world. As is a comfortable bed. And proper insulation – sweet mother of heaven the night was cold.

Sierra was busy trying to get one little girl from chewing her companion's arm and at the same time shrugging off a child from her leg. Being as short as she was, she was doing a very good job at either, but there was progress at least.

When she managed to get everyone to settle down, she flipped out a notebook first. If Malik could have seen the contents he would have seen her scribble in how much of a nuisance certain kids were and how much their respective parents owed her, but he didn't, thinking she was trying to tick off her day.

"Now, to the story. Today I will tell you the tale of the Master Quest, and contrary to some of your beliefs it's not a story that ends with a happy ending. I know a few of you see Nabooru laugh when she translated it, but it's not a comedy." Sierra warned, waving her finger at a few cheerful faces. "The story is dark, where the top ruler is not any monarch or leader but fear. It is about how a lone child, abandoned by his parents and ostracised by his peers, suffers through the cruelty of human nature to save them. It is about his dilemmas and questions of faith as he struggles against the mighty forces pitted against him. It is about his eventual success embittered by failure as he completes the Master Quest."

Wow, if that was an introduction Malik couldn't wait to hear what the main content was. He enjoyed a few tragedies now and then, and this sounded like a really decent one.

Turning the page, Sierra cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. Seeing someone trying to crawl away she placed the book down, placed the kid back to her rightful spot and placed her parent's name into her notebook. "The story starts in a forest, far away. This isn't a pretty forest though: the plants themselves compete viciously for the little light smothered by the smoky clouds above, some turning to carnivorous habits to remain alive. The animals have grown quick to adapt to the deadly foliage, in turn gaining razor-like beaks, or claws, or teeth that not only are good in wrestling free from the flora but excellent in shredding other fauna. The trees have learnt how to coat their leaves in special poisons that would kill others but its own kind, and their roots grow far and entangled, in hopes of snaring an unwary visitor to snag and lurch into the ground where it can digest it in peace.

"The enchantments of this vile place are even viler, for anyone who takes their eyes away from the road are certain to get lost. Any fool that lingers for too long will always get eaten by the patrolling creatures and their skeletons will be animated into senseless beings caught in undeath. To scream in fear and folly is to excite the spirits that cast these spells, their enjoyment of torment undying and never-ending." Sierra looked up briefly to see how well she caught her audiences' attention. Not only was this an excellent way for her to practice her vocabulary, but it teaches words to children who don't know how to speak yet.

"Somehow a village exists within this twisted maze of trees and teeth, its inhabitants sealed by a slightly different enchantment. They will remain forever young, small and weak and for eternity unable to defend them properly, and their immortality hated as for every day that exists they will have to suffer fear and worry as their defences barely keep them safe. They are accompanied by beings with a similar form but much smaller and with wings, but from disease that targets them whilst in the womb they cannot fly. Angry at the injustice some tear off their wings and so bleed to death, the rest resigned to their fate and live bitterly with their child companions."

Her story was cut short when a Gerudo entered the room, whispered something into her ear before rushing out. Frowning heavily, she muttered how life was becoming like the stories. "Hey Malik, it appears you'll be stuck with us for a while. I got to go now – you go entertain the little tykes."

"What? I can't leave? What's going on?" Startled Malik sat up quickly, accidentally knocking his chair down. The noise surprised a nearby little girl, sending her into tears. Not knowing whether to run off for more information or comfort the little girl, he spent most of the time just standing still and frantically looking back and forth at the door and the girl.

His desperation was relieved as an adult finally entered the room, shooing him off with "you're pathetic – go wander around where you'll be less of an annoyance", and somehow he was grateful for that. Running off to find someone nice enough to tell him what's going on, he bumped into Link.

"Oopssorryaboutthat – HeyLinkwhat'sgoingondoyouknow?" He asked quickly.

"Whoa, slow down! In all this bustle, what did you say?" Navi said, trying to placate Malik.

"Some lady just popped in and whispered something to Sierra, and then Sierra said about how I would be sticking around even longer. What happened?"

"Ah." Navi muttered. "Forgot you didn't like this place."

"Remembered how you were wary of crossing the bridge a while ago?" Link started, waiting for Malik's hesitant nod. "Well, I was right in that it was strongly built, but you were right in the sense that it could collapse easily. Somewhere in its design it was meant to be snapped if there ever was a situation that required it." Link sighed, grimacing. "That situation happened yesterday night."

Malik pouted. "So we're stuck here?"

"Looks like it."

"Bummer. What happened?"

Navi chose to explain this time. "The Stalfos came in larger numbers than usual, so many that the post ran out of bolts before the Stalfos ran out of soldiers. Since unlike the skeletons the Gerudo can't keep fighting without tiring at some point, they had to cut the bridge to prevent them from pouring over into this side of the desert."

Reza walked by, a deep frown planted onto her face. "This is going to be quite tricky." She grumbled, "trade is going to be near impossible now. We're going to have to fix this mess within two weeks."

"What happens if we don't?" Navi asked.

"We starve."

-

"I cannot stress the importance that you do not lose this." Nabooru warned, although it didn't look so 'stressed' as she kept trying magic tricks with the coin, palming and flipping it. "And hey! Out of your ear! But being serious, this does hold a bit of my powers, and I'll be really ticked off if any old coot manages to draw from it. The other sages will give you a similar coin as well, so at some point you're going to have to travel around to find them. Not too hard, with your ocarina teleporting trick."

Link nodded. "True, but I'm not sure that warp songs will carry other people with me. Navi already knows the number of times I did it wrong and left her behind." Navi pouted in remembrance, kicking Link's ear for reminding her.

Nabooru shrugged. "Whatever. Let's just head off to the Spirit Temple for you to do your stuff. Try and be quick about it, alright? I have other important matters to attend to."

Despite her wishing to make the trip quick, she kept her pace leisurely as they walked to the Temple. Link believed she was thinking on how to fix this new mess, but now and then her face would break up into a chuckle before she resumed her solemn look, gazing off into the distance. A strange woman, he could call her that.

When they were setting up their preparations, Nabooru was busy in feeling the vibes that the entire place was giving out. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as when Ganondorf controlled all of Hyrule, but there was still that presence of… discord that just seemed to radiate off the walls.

As Link was done setting the things out, Nabooru took a quick look at all the items before giving him the go: a spirit capture jar, a protective net and a mat with ancient runes inscribed on it in a binding ring. The spirits might hate them and haunt them forever, but better that than being possessed.

The spirit plane, Link believed, was connected deeply with the astral plane. Heck, sometimes he made the mistake of confusing one for the other. Mana lines flowed deep through one world, and for some strange reason were mirrored in every other one. So by somehow searching through the lines and reflecting it, Link knew he would be able to send his message over.

"Just to be on the safe side," Nabooru said, "how do you usually do this stuff?"

"It's pretty much me sending out a message, specifying for a specific type of people and then picking one from all those that respond."

"Ah, I see." She nodded. "So what're you going to search for?"

"Vaguely along the lines of anyone with a lot of forging experience, really."

She sighed, shaking her head. "I highly suggest against that. I do remember Ganondorf teaching me your method once, and when I did something that hazy I got the bad guy, alongside bad consequences. Probably you'll catch some nasty spirit that tries to hammer your soul into a rune weapon. I believe asking for someone with knowledge on metal sword forging – metal and sword important – rather than someone that has done it will get a better result."

Link shrugged. She had the experience. As she gave him the thumbs up for preparation he closed his eyes, allowing his own mana to ebb out and feel around the Spirit Temple. Much like the Forest Temple, this area had many mana lines flowing through the ground, making the connection much easier. Casting his message through the spirit plane, he could feel it echo back to him: with one answer.

It was a blessing and a curse to only get one spiritual response. While it made it very easy on who to choose, it meant that you weren't spoilt for choice, and the sole response might not be what you wished for. Link accepted the spirit's answer, weaving his mana into a gate into the real world.

Opening his eyes was to see your stereotyped 'Death' ghost floating in the protective ring. Wearing an ethereal hooded cloak and carrying around a scythe, the only visible skin was the ghosts' hands, his face hidden deep in its shadows.

"Good day, summoner," the spirit greeted, "I am wondering why someone with your skills is not already rich enough to hire a good smith yourself."

"I got to do the forging myself." Link answered. "Do you have any hints that you can give me?"

The spirit shook his head. "Sorry, nope. I know nothing about such a menial task. Me, my trade is shelving books – pretty much what I had been doing nearly all my life. Saddening tale, isn't it?"

Link glanced at Nabooru, who shrugged back. "So why did you respond?"

The spirit laughed. "My dear boy, your request was for someone with knowledge. I told you all my life I have been shelving books, but if you had let me prattle on for longer I would have told you I also shelve books in death. I am the most dedicated librarian alive – dead, sorry – and while I don't have the knowledge you want, I know where to get it."

"Ah." That posed an interesting problem. "I don't suppose you could lend me the book then?" How does one give something without substance to someone else in a totally different world?

The ghost hummed for a while. When it was apparent it was trying to hum a song Link coughed irritably, the ghost snapped back to attention. "Tell you what, kid: I'm sure you heard of the Master Quest. You have the book here, and looking back through time shows it was read sometime today."

"Eh?"

"Kids these days: I swear more and more are getting illiterate. This is a little game to amuse myself and make your entire summoning worth responding to. I'll send you through the Master Quest, is pretty much your life experiences made worse, and if you pass I'll stuff all the weapon information in the books into your head and leave it for you to shake off what you don't need."

Link looked at the ghost warily. "Alright, and how long will I be in this Master Quest?"

"Only a night, if you do it right. It'll be done in your sleep, so considerable am I, and all those years will be crammed into only ten hours. Once you pass the Master Quest, I give you information."

"What do you get in return?"

"Fun."

"And what if I fail."

The ghost started humming again, but it was blending with dark chuckling. "If, you fail, you will sleep for one more night and retry the Master Quest again. Each retry means you will lose all recollection of all previous attempts and a small bit of your real memories. If you're good, you'll be unconscious for only one night. If you're absolutely hopeless, it'll be a couple of months. No backing out, you see – resigning is no fun at all."

Link looked at Navi, his eyes questioning her for her idea. "Nothing to lose, Link." She replied quietly. Sighing and hoping he wasn't making a mistake, he erased one letter from the protective ring, shattering the shielding altogether.

"A most excellent choice, Hero of Time." The ghost laughed malevolently, cackling. "Sorry, always wanted to do that. Now, enjoy your sleep, if you enjoy nightmares."

As the ghost fractured into shards and dust, disappearing back to his realm, a sudden wave of weariness over took Link. Before he could say anything, he toppled onto the Temple floor, Navi fluttering down with him.

Nabooru sighed. "Damn, now I got to carry him back. You better pass, Link. From what I know about the Master Quest, you're not going to like living at all."

-

A/N: Hooty hoot hoot. Don't we all enjoy a nice twist? Later on I'll make an interlude about Link's Master Quest, but be forewarned: you've seen a taste of it, and you're probably not going to like the rest. Just me trying to attach a bit of darkness into the plot.

I'm sure a lot of you have noticed this is the first time Ruto ever talked. Or ever appeared. I really need to shift the group away from the Deserts and to the Zora Domain. Might fit it in the next chapter or so.

As usual I am grateful to all that cared to read this far and even more so to all that have reviewed. Any comments or suggestions will be accepted, and sorry to all that find this chapter lacking in any way – please post any improvements you wish to see. I know I'm not the best, but allow me to indulge in trying.

I doubt anyone finds waiting for a new chapter fun, but I hope you enjoyed this one and will like the next one equally. Signing off (has anyone played Minish Cap? I just can't seem to kill the 3rd form of the last boss – can't even scratch him), c'est moi.