This chapter contains some crucial information, so it's at least twice as long as the others. OHWELL.


PART 2: PAWNS IN A GAME

CHAPTER 11: THE TURNCOAT


27th of Quintember, Year 3378, Third Age
Calatia, New Kasuto
Southeast airspace

The large airship Nabooru and Vaati had commandeered from Ghirahim was difficult to manoeuvre, but it was quick and fuel efficient and, especially, it handled high altitudes well. As they were deep in Hylian Alliance's lands, they had hurried through the mountains, dodging patrols and control towers, sometimes with close-calls. The Snowhead Mountains had been a peaceful ride, but when they had swerved westward towards the Death Mountain and Crenel Mountain ranges, one of the highest and most travelled mountain areas in the world between the imperial country of Hyrule and the industrious country of Minish, the tension had been palpable. Several times, they had ignored hailing signals. They had even dodged a hunting squadron, lying low between sharp cliffs and under dense vegetation. It had been one of Nabooru's most nerve-wracking flights.

Then, at last, they had reached the Guardian battlefront that cut down into Minish from Calatia. Mount Crenel was an active battlefield to the northwest, and the long, rolling plains in central Minish were almost lunar in their destruction.

Without any markers, all anti-aircraft fire was aimed at them. Vaati had urged her to push the engines. She had pushed the engines, and the aircraft had zipped over the battlefield, dodging fire from all sides. From that point on, Nabooru had actively broadcast the Guardian identification codes. The way had been less worrisome then.

The last geographic barrier had been the tired, worn mountains dividing the north of Minish from the southeast of Calatia. The turbulence there was strong, but it was something Nabooru understood. She had nothing more to fear, save what she was carrying with her.

Two days of travel had thus brought them all the way from Termina to Calatia, without any further information on how Ganondorf Dragmire planned to use Goht, the mechanical thing crumbled in heap in the airship's cargo hold. Nabooru was also still worried about flashes she'd occasionally get. A flash had occurred near Death Mountain, like something from far away in her memory. She remembered a Goron lord, and a Zora princess, and a Sheikah woman― though how she could remember a Sheikah, she had no idea― and somehow, somehow, Saria the Kokiri child had been there.

She was beginning to suspect that those memories were as much hers as they were all of theirs. She didn't understand who 'they' were, let alone how she knew to trust.

The most upsetting memories were the ones from the desert. Those memories came with a lot of emotions. Fear, anger, sorrow, despair, joy― no matter the sentiment, it was powerful, like a fresh wound, like a new start, like a betrayal.

When she returned from the memories, she was almost always sobbing like a child. She was Nabooru of the Sands! Nabooru Spirit! She wanted to help her people! She wanted to help all people! She wanted to go back to the desert!

And she had confessed, sooner than she'd like, that she felt no kinship to the Guardian Coalition anymore. It was all too new. Even the Hylian Alliance, oddly enough, was not old enough to be relevant, centuries old as it was. Vaati had only nodded in understanding, without a word, with only a hand outstretched. She had babbled, too. The shock, the dichotomy, the others' memories were also as vivid as hers. They weren't hers, but she felt their pain and their loss and their hope too, the intimate love they felt for their lands, for their people, for the light, the fire, the water, the shadows. She felt their love for her, too, their kinship. She longed for it. Those memories were as long-lost brothers and sisters. She missed them, and when she returned to Vaati and the real day, she mourned them again and again and again.

The memories were tearing her apart. Vaati was beginning to notice. He would throw her long, lingering glances, and say nothing, and that silence was telling.

Even now, she struggled to suppress the memory of the Goron and his fierce warmth. She ignored the wise, reasonable sound of the Elder and his luminous insight. She struggled against the memory of Saria laughing and teasing, so full of life she was.

And Vaati noticed. He was flying the craft now, having learned from watching. He didn't trust her to stay fully aware of the present anymore. Maybe he had known all along she would struggle. Maybe it was meant to end one day.

Or maybe it would never end, and he didn't trust her enough to leave her alone. Maybe she was just a vessel for memories, and this was history's torture.

So she stared listlessly out the window, struggling against the memories. Anything could be a trigger now. A cloud, her knuckles, the way the trees swayed in the wind below them. It was exhausting. That she knew the memories weren't hers was of little help. Like a myriad of puzzle pieces of different sizes and weight and colour, she could almost see how they fit together, but as soon as she thought she had a comprehensive picture, they'd blow apart again, and she'd strain to remember where she was.

There was one common element to all the memories, though.

She turned a tired eye to look at Vaati, who was rigidly piloting the airship. He couldn't make the landing and take-off manoeuvres yet. They were the toughest. Thankfully, flying aircrafts didn't trigger memories, so recent the technology was. She could still handle that, mostly.

If he noticed her staring, he didn't acknowledge it. The afternoon rays hit the land with only a faint slant, covering Calatia fields with bright light.

At length, Nabooru asked, "What was the Hero's name?"

For the first time, she thought he looked startled. That was encouraging. Maybe she was beginning to make sense of the memories. Or maybe he was simply surprised she had spoken.

His red Sheikah eyes found her golden ones. His gaze was sharp and intense. Maybe it was that he had red eyes, though. She had always thought that was unsettling. Some Hylians and Twili had reddish eyes, but they always drew from brown irises primarily.

"The Hero?" He let the question hang, then asked, cautiously, "Are you in the present?"

"Yes," she growled, exasperated. The confusion was beginning to eat away at her nerves. "Who was the Hero? Was that in your time?"

Vaati smiled, then. He had an almost impish smile. It reminded her of Dark.

Skies. She missed Dark. She had almost forgotten he existed. That thought filled her with shame. He was a friend.

"I knew a few of them, yes." He was being cryptic again. She didn't like that, but she was beginning to learn he'd speak in good time, if she asked the right questions.

"There were many?" That seemed odd. Her memories didn't account for that. "How many? Was it an order of protectors?"

She knew so little facts. Facts were safe. They explained the emotions. They could explain the sisterly love of Forest and the brotherly love of Fire, or the outright love of Time and Water. They could provide reason for the fatherly love of Light, and the motherly love of Shadow. At the centre of it all, there always was that one Hero. He was young, sometimes, and old, sometimes, and absent, many times, and devoted all the time.

But if Vaati knew there were many…

"It was not an order, no," Vaati corrected her. "There was only ever one Hero at a time. And it is not so much that he was anointed as a Hero. He simply played that role in history."

"But there were many?"

"It is a role, Spirit. I have played the villain before. Yes, time and time again, a Hero rises. You have some memories of him. I have others."

"They all remember him," Nabooru said. "He was in all their lives. Was it all the same Hero? Did they all know a different one?"

"I cannot say," Vaati replied. He didn't look particularly bothered, but he was sincere.

It was confusing again. For a moment, she shut her eyes. A swarm of colour appeared in her mind. She fought against the tide. The memories were powerful. Garbled voices spoke to her as though they echoed from within the Whispering Caves. She gritted her teeth.

"He's not ready, Sheik. Rauru says―"

"I don't care what Rauru says! Haven't you seen the corruption in the clouds near Death Mountain? How long until it reaches Kakariko? How long until it reaches your people? My people…?"

"Peace to your heart," the Sheikah woman, a strong-looking warrior with snowy hair, the tattoos below her eyes crinkling in contained impatience, said to her half-masked apprentice. "Your love forgets reason."

"I don't care!" The young man reached out with a bandaged hand, and threw a vase to the ground. The crash sent broken pieces of ceramic in every direction.

And the crash hurt.

"You can't do this." The ice fell in sheets around them, the crashes upsetting, echoing like avalanches. She watched the snow begin to fall. Even her tears started to freeze on her cheeks. Her people! They weren't suited to the cold. It froze their blood in their veins, and they hardly shivered, crumbling rigidly to the ground. And still ice formed and fell around them.

And the monster laughed. He laughed at her peoples' death. And the ice gripped her, too, in time, her anger little help. She felt the ice claw at her heart.

And she remembered the boy clad in the green of fields.

"Link!"

The cry had been torn from her lips with a sob of desperation. Nabooru curled over herself, feeling cold and alone and helpless.

"Spirit, remember yourself. You are Nabooru of the Sands. These memories are not yours." Vaati's hand touched her shoulder. He was warm, warm like her homeland, warm like the coarse sand she knew. She felt her heart slow and calm down.

Her eyes finally saw the cockpit. Nothing had changed. Mere seconds, she reminded herself. Her people were safe. No. Water's people were safe. Or maybe they weren't. But it didn't matter now. The memory was from so far away and so long ago…

The sorrow and despair were still close, though, and the wound in her heart still gaped open.

"Who was he, Vaati? Link, the hero?"

"He was what all Hylia needed when it needed it."

"Who was he?"

"It is of little relevance," Vaati carefully explained. "You do not hold his memories. He is not one of the seven kin. He is only a tool, an arm, a hand. He is the forward push, the sword of the seven's will."

"No, it isn't. He isn't. He is more."

Vaati seemed surprised by her vehemence.

"He's more than that," Nabooru said with certainty. "He is the link that ties us all together."

"Yes…" Vaati's voice trailed off, eyes crinkling in some distant memory. "Yes, that was his name."

Link. Yes. Link. Nabooru could almost see him, but not really. He was Hylian. He was fair-haired. Like Time. He was clad in green, like Forest, like Saria. He was innocent. He was valiant. He was courage incarnate, and he walked up the steps of the Temple of Time, and Sheik's heart could scarcely believe it. Here, so near his childhood home, Sheik felt an ache he hadn't felt in years. Seven years. And Link didn't know anything yet. He was blindly devoted. It would not do. He needed more strength.

Would it truly harm anyone to finally tell him the truth? Courage deserved to know who held Wisdom. And, selfishly, Sheik wanted finally to hold him.

"Who was Sheik? I think― I thought the Sheikah woman was Shadow." It took Nabooru a few seconds to acknowledge she had just witnessed another memory.

"I do not know," Vaati replied honestly. "I was in hiding for a long time. My last incursion on the surface came long after the events you seem to remember."

"No, I remember Shadow's story, too. Sheik was a disguise…"

'New Kasuto air traffic control. Approaching aircraft, identify.'

Nabooru scrambled to pick up the radio transmitter, and she exchanged seats with Vaati again. She realised then they'd spoken in old Hylian all over again, and it was a struggle to find her words and speak modern Hylian. "This is Captain Nabooru Spirit, of the Guardian Air Force, on mission from Admiral Ganondorf Dragmire. Requesting permission to land."

'Captain Spirit? Hold.'

She released the broadcasting button, and leaned back. Her gaze met Vaati's. He raised a brow. She shrugged, and began circling the airport, waiting for further instructions.

A new voice crackled onto their radio. 'Captain Nabooru Spirit? This is Byrne Claw, speaking for Chancellor Cole Malladus.'

"Loud and clear," Nabooru replied.

'We were expecting a package from Termina. Are you still in charge of it?'

She exchanged looks with Vaati. She then said, "We have the package."

'Thank you. Please land in the private landing zone near the palace.'

That was puzzling, but secrecy was evidently of the essence. "Alright. Thank you."

The radio switched off on its own. Vaati reclined. Nabooru eyed him. As one, they seemed to agree with a look.

"I suppose my new name is Ghirahim," Vaati mused. He seemed to turn the name in his mind over and over, this way and that, and his lips pursed a little, as though he tasted it. Then, after a long moment, he nodded. "It will do."

Nabooru became aware of the partial resemblance between her companion and their assailant. "Hopefully, you won't have to use it for too long."

"Time is a relative thing," Vaati smiled, but he didn't elaborate.

Below the aircraft, New Kasuto, with its modern, shining buildings and curved streets, stretched out. Vaati's red eyes followed every street, somewhat impressed. On a small hill, Kasuto Palace rose up. It had been a fortress before the formation of the Hylian Alliance. Then, one of Seline's ancestors had renovated it, opened it up, destroyed the siege defences and invested in large gardens.

"It's a risk," Nabooru said, on a tangent. "What if someone who knows the real Ghirahim realises you're not him?"

"I can handle myself."

That was another thing. She watched him, and her eyes fell to the sword on his belt. "Um, yes. About that…"

Vaati smiled, and his hand came to rest familiarly on the sword hilt. "The Four Sword. Shadow Magic."

Well, of course. "What isn't anymore?" She grumbled. Then, a thought struck her. "Is that a thing you do? Steal and hold on to magical artifacts to keep people from finding out about them?"

Vaati chuckled. It was a new sound. He was opening up a little, and this first real laugh was low and warm. "If I only could, Spirit. I would be the greatest collector in the world, and any enterprising thief would become too powerful for his own good."

"You could hide the artefacts in secret places, and have some minions guarding them," she joked. Their rate of descent was smooth, and she could almost do it without thinking.

Vaati shook his head, and sighed. "It does not work, believe me."

"Have you tried?" Nabooru laughed.

"There are no contraptions that are entirely determination-proof, trust me," Vaati merely said, refusing to say more. He stood. "I should change out of these clothes." He motioned to his aged clothing. It was far from looking modern, with flaps and folds that hadn't been in fashion for over a century. She nodded in agreement.

"Ghirahim probably had a few things in here," she suggested. "If you're comfortable wearing a dead man's clothes, at least."

He didn't respond. Maybe that was best. The light-hearted moment was gone. She turned away to focus on the landing procedure.

Kasuto Palace was one of the oldest structures of the modern world. Time had seen many buildings through without much decay, but most had been altered by the living. Or pulled down. The Citadel in Castleton was said to have existed for many centuries now, albeit in a different, smaller form. Kasuto Palace, for its part, was a relic of old architecture. It sprawled now in all directions away from the central, original keep, but the keep was still there, with large windows in place of the original murder holes, and gardens in every corner, flowers and leaves overflowing from the courtyards and windowsills. Calatia was as fairytales described old lands. It had not suffered from the war, and it was as close to peaceful as one could expect a realm to be during a conflict of this magnitude.

That upset Nabooru a little. She barely acknowledged when Vaati came back to sit next to her.

In the gardens, a brand new landing port had been stamped, like an aberration. Nabooru stabilized the airship above it, and steadily cut power to the hovercrafts, so that the airship gently lurched down. Next to her, Vaati, in decidedly modern clothes, was clutching the armrests of his seat. He didn't look nervous, to his credit, but he had been uneasy with all the downward motions she made, and was probably eager to touch land again.

Some Wind Wanderer he was, she thought, amused.

She focused on landing smoothly. It was important to get it right. The airship was large, and she didn't want it to tip to one side or another from landing crooked. That hadn't happened to her in years, now, but for Vaati's benefit, she wanted the landing to be perfect.

Gently, as though coaxing a giant beast, she brought the hovercrafts down to one FGU, and eased the ship down as low as it would go. Then, she flipped a switch. The landing gear hissed out of its compartment, and she checked to make sure it was secure before letting it stretch down to touch the ground, both blades touching the ground simultaneously. This nudged the ship, but only infinitesimally. Satisfied, she cut the engines, and the airship seemed to relax suddenly, no longer fighting gravity, finally allowed to rest on land.

Already, Nabooru spotted the shore party that had been assembled to greet them. She saw a short man dressed in green, with a top hat, and a tall, broad-shouldered man next to him with an over-armour of metal on his arm ―the sign of a bodyguard― and two women beside them. They had shielded their faces from the wind of the propellers, but now they were regaining their composure. The eldest of the two, a Hylian, by the looks of it, was dressed in a well-tailored dress. Her hair was light red, with white locks already making it look pale in the afternoon sun.

Next to her stood a Zora, but Nabooru had difficulty making out any more details. The Zora woman stood in the shade of a large tree: the Zora people fared with difficulty in the outright sun and were easily susceptible to dehydration.

She turned to look at Vaati.

And stared into the face of Ghirahim instead.

Horror made her jump out of her seat, and she stumbled backward.

Unexpectedly, Ghirahim opened his mouth, revealing sharp teeth, and laughed.

"How―" Nabooru's stomach was in her throat, trying to find a hold with her hands, to keep her legs from failing under her. "Where―"

"Spirit," Ghirahim said, his dark eyes softening imperceptibly, "I am Vaati."

Vaati? That was ridiculous. Sure, the two men had looked somewhat alike, but it really wasn't― But then, Ghirahim did have the Four Sword on his belt.

"How did you do that?" Nabooru breathed, eyes wide as saucers.

Ghirahim ―Vaati― shrugged. "Shadows."

"Magic," Nabooru breathed, and she now said it flatly, relaxing, annoyed. "Well, of course." She steadied herself and stood straight again.

"You have become quite cynical about it. How short your wonder was."

She snorted derisively. "I had to grow up quickly." She pursed her lips in consideration, then added, "Well, it's a passable cover."

Ghirahim rolled his eyes. "I will take that as a euphemism."

"Don't forget to speak Modern Hylian," Nabooru reminded him, though it was mostly for her own benefit. She had even said that in Old Hylian. That she had trouble remembering to speak her birth language, favouring a dead one, was more disturbing than a lot of things that had happened in the past week. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. It would have to wait.

There was a knock on the airship's low side door, under the hovercraft wing, next to her. She went down a few steps, and pushed on the pressure relief button, and the door slid open with a hiss of steam emptying the locks. The armoured bodyguard was there.

"Captain Spirit," he said, his tone clipped and deep. "Byrne Claw."

"Yes," she said, unsure. She stepped down, out of the airship. "Good afternoon." She raised a hand to salute.

"Captain!"

Byrne stepped aside, and the short man in green stepped in front of her. He eyed her critically, up and down, stopping at her breasts for a fraction too long, before making a broad, forced smile. "Nabooru Spirit. Of course. Message from Holodrum reached my, erm, desk."

He took her hand, though she hadn't offered it, and gave it a weak, unwilling squeeze. She wasn't sure what to make of him, or that, or any of it.

Then, as though disgusted with touching her, though his eyes did stray again to her chest, the short man said, "Chancellor Cole Malladus. You may call me Chancellor. Do you have the… the thing?"

It was then that Vaati stepped out of the airship, and said, with the scary style of movement of the dead man he was copying, "Naturally, Chancellor. I expect you'll tell the Admiral we've done our part?"

Chancellor Cole looked up at Ghirahim, and scowling, said, "Yes, yes, he'll be told." Then, after half a beat, he said, "Well, let's see it!"

So Nabooru and Vaati went about the ship, opening the hatches. At last, the rusted pile of scrap metal that was the mechanical bull was wheeled out, heavy as it was. The Chancellor looked at it with a growing mix of disgust and anger.

"You're joking!" He cried, his thin, tremulous voice made shriller by his anger. "That isn't the glorious weapon I was promised!"

"You?" Vaati was doing an incredible Ghirahim impression. That single word had all the contempt she'd have expected from the original. It was uncanny, and not a little unsettling.

Malladus stammered. "Well, I― uh, that is, the Admiral asked me to make sure."

"Well, maybe you're missing out on some information," Ghirahim snidely commented, and his eyes slid towards the two women hanging back, looking for all the world as though they didn't wish to be there and see any of it.

Nabooru had completely forgotten about the two women. She looked at them, and, suddenly, she thought she recognized them. It wasn't obvious, as she'd never seen them in person, but―

"You're right," Cole said, back to his usual imp self. To the women, he barked, "Seline! Fish-girl!" He seemed pleased with his slur, and Nabooru fought the urge to just punch him.

At least, she considered, he'd confirmed who the Hylian woman was. Queen Seline of Calatia. Her eyes fell to the little devil who commanded them, and she wondered whether her eight days away had seen some significant change, and since when Seline was under the control of this miniblin with a poor character, a short temper and a shorter stature.

Both women stepped forward. Ghirahim strode out in front of her, to ignore the Chancellor and bow low before the queen of Calatia, all pride and plumage.

And her eyes found the face of the Zora woman at last, and she nearly faltered.

"Ruto, my dear, my child, tell your beloved subjects."

And, haughtily, she was going to. It was cool and comfortably humid in the royal chamber. Her Zora subjects all waited eagerly for her announcement.

"Henceforth," she declared, and she was proud of her choice of words, "I will be the one who feeds Lord Jabu-Jabu." The awe on their faces was―

terrifying. The boy had no idea. He was going to die. He had ventured into the lord of the water's own body, and swam in the fish's aorta, and his stomach, and fought the parasites there. He had made it here, and he was going to fall to the electric anemone. And then she would die!

She would die. Link hadn't made it in time. He couldn't always be there on time. No word from him for three years, and now the ice took her last, white breath from her. She watched as the world grew darker, and she stopped shivering, and stared, like a glass-eyed doll, into the water that slowly grew solid before her eyes.

But he wanted to help. The mysterious Sheik had warmed her enough to help her out of the Ice Caverns. Now Link ― four years since the tragedy of Zora's Domain, and not a word from him in all that time― wanted to help. Well, he would help her. She would restore Zora's domain. She would!

He was grateful. She couldn't be his, and he had never been hers― Time could lay claim to him if she wished― so this was all she could do. She gave him her power, and the medallion, and he smiled, so strong and handsome, and vanished in the column of light.

And she held on to her Zora child, the tadpole squirming, delighted to swim at last, the egg shells floating away, and she looked up at her devoted, bright eyed husband, and the Zora cheered for their new prince.

And the night fell over her, and her son, her beautiful son, who looked so much like his father, held on to her hand, his fins growing in by now, his eyes tearful, and he said, "I'll take care of Lord Jabun, mother. You take your rest now."

And she saw her aging husband, and she held him, and the water filled their bodies, and they became one with the water, and she smiled, and he smiled, and they let their bodies get carried away in the current, and she thought to herself that all was aright.

And Nabooru used all of her willpower not to mourn openly. Instead, she stared dumbly at Ruto Watters, the lady of Zora's Domain, and knew.

"Water," she croaked. This woman was the Lady of Water Saria had told her about. She was a Sage. She was a Sage! Her hand reached out blindly, to catch Ghirahim's attention.

"I'm sorry," Ruto said, politely, and she stepped forward, "are you thirsty?"

"Silence, Watters, no one asked you to step in," Cole snapped, forcing himself in front of Nabooru, and eyed her contemptuously, though it was hard to do, short as he was. "She can wait." Then he asked Queen Seline, about the bull, "What do you know about this thing? Is it the right golem?"

Queen Seline stared at Chancellor Cole icily. She was obviously distant, and had lost all pretence at power. That was a bad sign. Everywhere in the Guardian Coalition, it was said Seline and Ruto had defected willingly. Nabooru wasn't so sure anymore.

And if the Guardian Coalition had lied about that, what else had they lied about?

Doubt, stronger than ever, edged into her mind.

"It is the right golem," Seline said, coolly. Her white locks were blinding against her red hair. "But it is missing a power source."

"Well?" Cole whirled on Ghirahim and Nabooru. "Where is the power source?"

"There was none," Vaati replied, and his tone wasn't as Ghirahim-like as before. Even Ghirahim's eyes flashed with the angry red of his impersonator. "It must come from elsewhere. Something powerful."

Cole turned to Seline. "Well? What else do you know?"

Queen Seline eyed them all with the same, mistrusting, doleful look, but she answered all the same, "You're also expecting a package from Twilight. Nightfall. They agreed to send you a power source."

"Us," the Chancellor corrected, sweetly. "We are united and equal, Seline."

"Naturally," she replied, and, though she was a gentle soul, there was a bite when she added, "Malladus."

Chancellor Cole did not take kindly to that. He turned to Byrne Claw and said, "Punish her."

"Here?" Byrne Claw was impassive, but a slight shift in his stance seemed to indicate discomfort.

"I don't care where," Cole spat. "Anywhere."

Byrne Claw grabbed Seline by the arm, though it wasn't forceful, and he did it with the arm that wasn't enhanced by piston armour. He pulled her away, somewhat carefully, and Ruto helplessly watched, pain in her eyes, as the beautiful, mature queen of Calatia was drawn away, like a child, to a space behind a hedge, and audibly struck. The queen cried out.

"I'm not sure Admiral Dragmire would approve of that," Nabooru coldly told the Chancellor.

"Well, he's not here," Cole said, false sweetness in his voice. "Now tell me how this thing works."

"I don't know," Nabooru flatly replied.

"Well, you're useless," Cole bit out. "I think I'm going to hold on to you both until I'm sure you didn't get me a pile of rubbish. You won't be happy if I'm not happy."

Seline was struck again. She audibly let out a sob.

"Would you stop hurting her?" Nabooru dared. "What has she done to you?"

"She raised herself above us. I don't like that."

"For an army to function, it needs an Admiral. Are you saying that Ganondorf Dragmire is arrogant for being in power?"

"We chose him," Cole said, though he was beginning to hesitate. Nabooru blessed her chance that he rightly feared Dragmire. It was good to know, and easy to use.

Reluctantly, Chancellor Cole called out, "Enough, Claw. Take her to her apartments." Nabooru watched as Byrne Claw reappeared, holding Seline gently. He looked like he cared, or at least like he wasn't really trying to hurt the queen. Seline was holding a hand up to her cheek, but didn't look in that much pain. Satisfied that justice had been doled out, Cole smirked. Then, in a snide, haughty tone, he told Ruto Watters, "Fish-girl, take these officers of the Guardian Army to the guest rooms."

Ruto pressed her lips, and turned to them. She smiled tightly, the expression not reaching her eyes.

"What about Goht?" Nabooru asked.

Cole wasn't even looking at them anymore. He was rubbing his hands slowly and anxiously together, trying to understand the purpose of the rusted metal golem. A Palace guard had shown up to wheel it away and move the airship out of the landing zone. Somehow, Nabooru felt uncomfortable. She eyed Vaati, who didn't look like Ghirahim as much then, his brow furrowed in a concern Ghirahim had probably never shown.

As though remembering himself, Vaati deliberately relaxed his face, and assumed a more casual, slouching pose than his martial rigidity.

"Don't concern yourself with it," Cole said. "Dragmire will know about your sacrifice, and then you'll be on your merry way."

"Sacrifice?" She echoed, the unease growing.

Chancellor Cole looked irked. "Yes! All that time you spent. Go, damn you."

That did little to ease her discomfort, but a warning look from Ruto told her not to argue any further. Remembering her purpose, Nabooru signalled for Vaati to follow her, and fell into pace behind Ruto.

Once they had cleared the landing zone and were out of earshot, their Zora guide politely, if coolly, said, "I'll show you to the guest rooms."

"Cole is planning to have us killed," Vaati softly said, for Nabooru's ears only, though she was certain that Ruto overheard. Somehow, this information didn't surprise her. It would actually make sense, in a way. The fewer people aware of Ganondorf Dragmire's plan, the lesser was the risk of it being uncovered before its time.

Still, and oddly enough, she had more pressing matters to attend.

"Lady Ruto Watters," she said, catching up with Ruto.

If she was surprised that Nabooru knew her name, Ruto did not show it. Instead, she cast a sidelong glance, and said, still coolly, "Yes?"

It occurred to Nabooru that she had no idea how to explain the situation without looking outright insane. Now that she had found the memories, and found the one they belonged to, what was she supposed to do? What were the odds this would happen?

Casting a glance to Ghirahim for help, she helplessly fell into silence.

Ruto picked up on the silence and said, "You're right to assume you are not safe here. If you wish to defect, I will tell no one."

It was difficult to say whether she was trying to trap them somehow, so Nabooru didn't reply.

She only said, "Do you know anything about the Sage of Water?"

Ruto shot her a sharp look. "No."

But that stirred Vaati, thank the skies. His eyes, dark with the illusion of Ghirahim, nevertheless formed a million questions. He wanted confirmation. He wanted proof. He reached out to grab her arm, though they kept walking. With an insistent look, he squeezed, and motioned to Ruto with his head. Nabooru watched his eyes, following his gaze. His eyes fell to her hand, which he was holding by the wrist, and then jumped to Ruto Watters. His eyes were screaming for her to act.

"You'll find the guest quarters through this door," Ruto said as they reached a low, long building in the gardens.

Without thinking, Nabooru suddenly grabbed Ruto's shoulder.

There was a sudden surge of energy between them, though for any onlooker, nothing was happening, except a sudden tensing of their spines. It was overwhelming. Nabooru shut her eyes tight, and the reflections of water on a cave ceiling danced behind her eyelids, and a torrent of voices gushed from within her memory, vanishing between the cracks, and she felt Ruto gasp, as though she was out of air, and the Zora woman's skin was like water under her fingers, and Nabooru could swear she was floating, getting swept by a current. A wave of emotions washed over her, and sorrow, and love, and loss―

But she planted her feet firmly down. I am Nabooru Spirit of the Sands. I am Spirit. This is not my memory. This is not mine. This is a gift in my keeping. Now it shall return to its rightful owner.

And still the emotions washed around her, and though she saw the infinite beauty and sadness of it all, she said nothing. She no longer tried to make sense of the memories. Unfiltered, they passed by her own memories untapped, unchanged, unharmed, intact and true.

A lifetime of arrogance, humility, love, loss, despair, hope, determination and joy passed between them, more intimate than any embrace Nabooru had known, more painful than any wound, too. It felt like her insides were raw, burned by the coldest ice or the harshest fire. Still, this was it. This was her purpose. She knew it with the hard confidence of one who had never been betrayed by her instinct.

Suddenly, Ruto pushed her away, and both women staggered away from one another.

The Zora's gaze had changed. She watched them both with wide eyes, but Nabooru saw no fear in them.

Taking a second to collect herself, Ruto finally cast a look around them, taking note of their isolation. Then, she looked at the guest quarters' door, and seemed to come to a decision.

"You can't stay here, Captain," she breathed, and exhaustion suddenly settled in for both of them. Tiredly, she said, "They'll have you both executed."

"Water―"

"Not here. I have questions, and you have the answers. Follow me. Be quick."

They had little possessions of their own, and so their escape to Ruto's quarters was silent and swift. There were few guards within the Palace. They seemed mostly to guard the perimeter.

"This is my prison," Ruto Watters softly said as an introduction. She ushered them hastily into her apartments, a series of large, high-ceilinged rooms with warm colours and bars in the windows.

"Prison?" Nabooru echoed.

Ruto looked surprised. "Well… yes. Isn't that obvious? Why are you here if not to free us?" She shot them both puzzled looks. "Aren't you Hylian Alliance operatives?"

Nabooru's lips parted in protest, but any word died on her lips. Ruto was a bright woman. She saw the question in her eyes, and immediately backed up. She stumbled into a desk, and found a letter opener there. The motion was subtle, but escaped neither Nabooru nor Vaati.

"Wait, Ruto. Us? Who do you mean? Are there other Sages here?"

Ruto frowned, as though she was not expecting her memory to recall the notion of what a Sage was. Then, slowly, she said, "Us. I mean Queen Seline and I."

"Is Queen Seline a Sage?"

"No, Spirit," Ghirahim admonished. "Think with your head, not with your eagerness." He turned to Ruto. "Start with the beginning, Lady Watters."

"I can't trust you," Ruto replied. She brought the letter opener out into the open. "You're not on our side. You're with the Guardians."

There was nothing Nabooru could say to defend herself. Her loyalty to Ganondorf Dragmire was beginning to crumble, but she had started with honest intentions.

"Truly," Vaati said, and for a moment Ghirahim's eyes were red like Vaati's, "but then, why would the Guardian Coalition wish to kill us?"

"That's none of my business," Ruto sharply said. "You want the truth?" She said it with spite. "We didn't have a choice. Unlike you."

"I was beginning to suspect that," Nabooru admitted. "Were the bars in the windows there before you moved in?"

Ruto changed her weight from one foot to the other, and looked annoyed. "What do you think?" She lowered the letter opener but didn't put it away. Her eyes were full of frustration and helplessness for a brief second.

"When you say you had no choice…"

Ruto muttered something neither of them could make out. At least, she wasn't threatening them anymore. That was something. Still, her obvious helplessness made Nabooru uneasy. Trapped people could lash out in unexpected ways. And Nabooru couldn't vouch for Ruto current mental stability, considering her own unsteady thought patterns lately.

There was a knock on the door. Unsure, Ruto motioned for them to stay against the wall, out of immediate sight. If she wasn't sure, she definitely wasn't going to let them slip away without being sure it was the right thing to do. Nabooru was grateful for that, at the very least. Vaati looked at her with Ghirahim's eyes, and she saw determination there. He was there to help her restore the Sages. The Deku Tree had told him to. He was going to help her.

Not for the first time, Nabooru caught herself counting the many blessings Vaati had been so far.

"Ruto," a gentle, tired woman's voice spoke when Ruto slowly opened her door. "Let us in."

Queen Seline of Calatia stepped in. Ruto stepped aside, and Byrne Claw followed closely. Nabooru shot Vaati a guarded look. Queen Seline looked around the room, and immediately spotted them. She didn't look surprised, though she instantly became still.

Byrne Claw, his mechanical arm hissing as he closed the door behind himself, also shot them a suspicious look.

"They are Guardian Coalition," Ruto said, "but I feel they may be more like Byrne, here, than the Chancellor."

Ghirahim's eyes steeled with insult. "We would never strike an unarmed woman."

Byrne nearly surged forward, furious, but Queen Seline stopped him. Oddly enough, he obeyed.

"Thank you, Byrne." Then, as though realizing she'd revealed Byrne true loyalty, she said, to Ruto, "They are privy to a lot of information. How can we ascertain…?"

It was then that Ruto's eyes met Nabooru's, and Nabooru saw in the lady of Zora's Domain something eminently familiar. Something about the woman's stance, or her gaze, felt much older and more venerable than it had been before.

"I trust the woman. Captain Nabooru Spirit. Nabooru of the Sands," she softly said, and her eyes glazed over for a fraction of a second, before focusing again. Her pale hand went up to her eyes and rubbed them tiredly. "Though I'd really appreciate some answers."

"So would we, I assure you," Vaati said, and Ghirahim looked a lot more like Vaati then.

"Ruto," Queen Seline gently asked, as she helped the Zora woman to sit in a chair, where she dipped her feet in a cool water basin that was waiting there, "are you certain?"

Ruto Watters nodded slowly. "I can't explain it yet, Seline. I trust her, and him by extension." She looked up at Byrne Claw, who was standing at attention, looking coiled and serious, and added, "Please, Byrne, get them a seat."

Byrne examined them from head to toe, then nodded curtly. He motioned to a large couch upholstered with silk and brushed velvet. Awkwardly, Nabooru and Ghirahim sat there, unsure of how to begin.

Seline took charge of that. "You may have understood that Byrne is a friend. That does not mean he will not harm you if necessary."

For good measure, Byrne imperceptibly flexed his mechanical arm, and the pistons holding it together hissed a little. Nabooru smiled tightly.

"We aren't here to cause trouble. I had to deliver the golem, on direct orders from Ganondorf Dragmire. I just happened to find… Lady Watters. If I may speak freely… I thought you were willingly on the Guardian side?"

"Willingly? No." Seline seemed to lack the words to continue.

There was a silence, and, at length, Nabooru asked, "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"I'm sorry," Seline politely explained, "but you are a captain of the Guardian forces. I cannot in good conscience say more without knowing your motivation."

"It was destiny that brought them here," Ruto stated with cool confidence, her eyes fixed on them from the place where she reclined, recovering from an extended time out of the water. Her feet slowly sloshed the water in the basin. "She," and here she nodded to indicate Nabooru, making Seline and Byrne fix curious eyes on her, "is the new Sage of Spirit."

Seline furrowed a brow, then looked at Ruto curiously. "I thought you didn't believe in those legends."

"I didn't, until it became obvious I am the Sage of Water reborn."

Seline looked upset. "You're not serious. Byrne, is she serious?" She looked up at her tormentor turned bodyguard, and the man looked uncertain himself.

"Seline, one touch was all I needed." To prove her point, Ruto darted a single finger to the water basin at her feet, and made a crooking motion with it. The water lurked up, and coiled into an upward spiral before their eyes. Even Nabooru was startled.

"Whoa."

"Her awakening was much more sudden and pronounced than yours," Vaati observed quietly. "Would that she understood what this means―"

"You are using Shadow Magic, aren't you?" Ruto asked, and both Seline and Byrne stared at her in confusion. Nabooru knew why: Ruto had just spoken in Old Hylian. The Queen and Byrne hadn't understood a word she'd said, but they followed her gaze to Vaati, who was still disguised as Ghirahim. Now, Nabooru was truly stunned, to the point of discomfort.

Ghirahim smiled, and she watched as Vaati let the illusion melt away temporarily, revealing his true face. Then, when he was pleased he had shocked the Queen and her guard, he recovered his disguise and maintained it.

"What―" Seline stood from her seat, and backed away from Ruto and Ghirahim.

"It's safe, Seline," Ruto breathed, as though in relief. "Finally, we're safe."

"What about your son?" Seline blurted inelegantly, before suddenly clasping a hand to her mouth, and staring at their guests.

Son? Nabooru looked at Ruto in shock. No one, anywhere, had ever mentioned the Lady of Zora's Domain had a son. This was as unexpected as hearing that Princess Zelda of Hyrule was married, or that Queen Rutela of Waker had been dead this whole time.

"Congratulations?" She risked.

Ruto only smiled. "Yes, well, perhaps now you begin to understand. My son is not safe unless I do as I'm bid."

"And…?" Nabooru looked at Queen Seline, fully expecting another shocking revelation.

"I do not have any secrets," Seline said, her posture straight. She had recovered quickly and with aplomb. "Save one." She eyed Byrne, who hadn't said a word yet. Then, she said, looking at her guests calmly, "My country was invaded from within. My own ministers turned on me. Those I thought I commanded became the puppeteers, and I went from ruler to mere figurehead within a few months. That was when they began to threaten my people. That's the problem with not having secrets," she said, mournfully. "There was nowhere to find my feet. They had swept all form of support and help away from me."

"Save one," Ghirahim calmly observed, looking straight at Byrne.

"Yes," Seline admitted. "It was fortunate, and one of the few times I proved I was capable of quick-thinking." Nabooru caught herself admiring the poise and honesty of this Queen. She was a traitor to the Guardian Coalition, and still―

"I told Byrne to ingratiate himself with Chancellor Malladus." She snorted, her contempt obvious. "These Guardians have tried to sell ideas of what they call democracy." As though taken with sudden sadness, Seline averted her eyes and looked at the roses that climbed on the bars outside the windows. "They want equality, they say. They say that once the war is won, they'll have all monarchs executed, to show how equality prevails."

The statement was like a punch to the stomach. Nabooru felt panic grip her. No, no. No, that wasn't what Ganondorf Dragmire wanted. She opened her mouth to argue, but a sinking feeling stole her voice from her.

Of course Ganondorf Dragmire wasn't a dishonourable man, per se. He'd never win by behaving like that. But he had sent her to retrieve a destructive weapon alone, in secret, and given orders to have her killed when she returned.

And no one would know. And no one would know he condoned the execution of the royals, when it happened. He'd probably condemn it, after the deed, but he wouldn't prevent any of it.

Dark was right. Dragmire was bad news. He wasn't what he seemed. Oh, what a fool she was!

"Nabooru of the Sands. You have tried to impede me every step of the way. You'll serve me now."

She was held firmly, and could only spit at his feet. "Curses on you, Ganondorf. Someone will stop you."

"The only one who could have stopped me was destroyed by the power of the very tool that could have harmed me!" The Sword. Ganondorf was jubilant.

Nabooru felt her heart ache. The boy. The boy who had made it all the way past the fortress and into the desert, where no man had ever stepped. He was empowered by something.

The boy…

"We need to act," Ruto declared, decisively, drawing Nabooru out of her memory. "With both our powers," she stood now, and looked more glorious and strong than ever before, "we can foil them."

"Oh." Nabooru was taken aback. "Well, yes, but, um… I unfortunately can't really be of much help. I only remember. It's honestly the worst power I've ever heard of."

Ruto laughed. "Are you serious? Don't you remember your own powers?" In other circumstances, that would have been offensive and mocking, but Nabooru knew Ruto almost as well as the Zora knew herself, and she didn't take offence.

"It is my opinion," Vaati said, as a means of rescue, "that while Spirit still holds the memories of the other Sages, she will have trouble sorting out her own identity."

Really? Nabooru shot him a curious look. He caught her look, shrugged, then smiled.

"Well, that will be a hindrance," Ruto said, still as frank as usual, but there was no resentment there. "But that's no real problem. We've been strangely fortunate thus far."

Nabooru's eyes jumped to the bars in the windows, and asked, "How is that?"

Ruto and Seline both smiled. It was Seline who answered her question. "The golem you brought needs a power source, as you know." Her gaze fell on Ghirahim, and the corners of her eyes crinkled, the start of crows' feet showing only a little. "But the power source Ganondorf Dragmire arranged as a match is now a few days late. It was supposed to arrive on the 25th, early in the morning. The Princess of Twilight, Midna Black herself, was responsible for it."

It felt like so long ago that Nabooru had spoken of Midna Black with Dark. She felt a sudden pang of loneliness.

"Why exactly does Ganondorf Dragmire want this weapon in New Kasuto?" She asked. It felt like an important detail, somehow.

Seline pressed her lips together, then said, "Well, my dear, we are a Guardian bastion only a few hours away from the heart of the Hylian Alliance, Castleton. If Ganondorf topples Castleton in one strike, he wins the war."

"He's even managed to lure most of the Hylian Alliance's attention to Waker, as far away from Castleton as possible. They won't be ready for the attack, when it comes." Ruto's declaration was sombre at best. It occurred to Nabooru that all Zora originated in Great Fish, and that the Guardian Coalition had destroyed it some time before Nabooru had met Ganondorf Dragmire in person.

"I'm beginning to suspect that Midna Black may have deliberately hindered the Guardian Coalition's progress, specifically to alter this turn of events," Seline said, her eyes looking young with hope.

"Well, the power source is only two days late, but yes, she had a whole week to bring it from the Forsaken Fortress to New Kasuto. It was more than enough time, and it's still not here."

"I'm sorry," Nabooru suddenly interrupted, "did you say―"

Skies. The Forsaken Fortress. Her mind started calculating. She had last spoken to Dark on the 17th. He was headed there. Midna Black had had a week, ending on the 25th, to deliver―

Oh, goddesses, Dark had to fetch a package on the 18th of Quintember.

Suddenly, Nabooru began to worry. It was all too uncomfortably coincidental.

So, why was Dark late?

"Our priority is to awaken all the Sages," Ruto said. "Seline and I will prepare our escape for the time when they are all aware and ready to strike. If we all act at once, we may yet deal a crippling blow to the Guardian efforts."

"That could take an eternity," Nabooru said, feeling suddenly exhausted and deflated. She felt heavy with worry and despair. "I don't know who the Sages are nowadays, let alone where they are." And she didn't know whose side she was on anymore. It seemed like the Guardian Coalition and the Hylian Alliance were pointless divisions.

"You know where Forest is," Vaati said, encouragingly.

Even Ruto seemed enthused by this. "Saria?"

Vaati's smile was the answer she needed.

"Well, then," Ruto suddenly exclaimed, "that's it!"

"What?" Nabooru couldn't believe that the Sage of Water could be so energetic when she was feeling so burdened. Then again, maybe this was the spark Ruto had been missing all along.

"I was always called Ruto," the Lady of Zora's Domain said. "And you were always Nabooru, right? And I knew the Sage of Forest's name was Saria, because it was Saria the whole time! Don't you see?" She moved forward to clasp Nabooru's hands in hers. "You must find the other Sages the same way. How many of them are called―" Here, she paused, frowning, looking into space. "It's so distant. There was a Goron."

"Darunia," Nabooru nodded. Yes! Of course! She could have kissed Ruto then. "Yes! A Goron named Darunia!"

"A Sheikah―"

"Impa. It was always Impa."

"And two Hylians. One a priest―"

"Rauru."

"And the other… Oh."

And then, Nabooru knew why Ruto had paused, and why her enthusiasm had waned. Now she began to suspect. If memory served, Rauru was currently the High Priest of Hyrule. He would be difficult to access, at best.

But the other Hylian was the largest problem she'd encounter in her life.

"Zelda. The Sage of Time was Princess Zelda."

Ghirahim let out a low, amused whistle that was more Vaati than Ghirahim. "Well." A heavy silence fell over the room. "This will be an interesting ride."