I have reached a conflict. I have fallen completely in love with all of these characters and I don't ever want to stop writing for them. But this isn't going to be an endless story; it has to end. What to do? Suggestions?


"Did you forget, little girl?"

The words come from deep inside Ebon's chest, and Kylan sees his sister's eyes go wide.

"You can't kill me."

Ebon leaps away and Alari loses her grip on the sword, stumbling and almost falling over. Ebon lands right in front of Kylan, unsheathing a knife. Kylan throws out a desperate energy wave, shoving away and thrusting up his shadow shield just before the knife comes streaking towards him. Kylan catches it, not with his own hand but with an arm of pink-red magic, and sends it hurtling back to the opponent.

Alari bursts into his field of vision, armed with nothing but the dagger she carries in her belt. Still, she slashes at Ebon angrily, yelling in an almost savage manner. Kylan settles his magic around Alari's shoulders like a cloak, protecting her, at least for now. Ebon blocks her swings easily with his own sword, but she is much quicker than him and her strikes are driving him back.

Kylan is about to move, to help Alari, when something outside the window catches his eye. A beacon of light is moving through the fortress, past where the Gerudo are swarmed around his parents and Zelda, tiny dots fighting back-to-back. A group of the Gerudo follow the pillar of light, but a swoop of arrows and pink-red fire takes them out. The light is coming closer, and closer, and it does not take long for Kylan to realize what it is.

It's the only way they can hope to defeat Ebon, and he just needs to allow it enough time to get here.

Kylan takes in a breath and sends out his energy arms, twisting them through the space towards Ebon, all while maintaining both his and Alari's shields. One magic-arm slaps against Ebon's left wrist, tiny shadow-fingers clinging to his skin, latching the other end to the wall. The other arm follows suit with Ebon's right wrist and then Kylan is dragging him to the wall, dragging him, dragging him until he is finally close enough. Tendrils lace around his legs and chest, pinning him to the wall, and he is left squirming and shouting for release.

"He looks just like a fly caught in a spider's web," Kylan jokes morbidly, and his sister gives him a strange look.

"You know there is no point," Ebon snarls, thrashing against the bonds, and Kylan can already feel his magic weakening. "You're just a half-fledgling Twili. This net will not hold me for long. And besides, you can't kill me, not with your silly little metal sword." He chuckles at the blade in his chest. "The only weapon that can kill me was lost along with my father."

"That's where you're wrong," Kylan says with a hint of triumph in his voice. Alari squints at him confusedly, but she doesn't know what he knows. He can hear the running footsteps now, coming closer and closer. The tendrils pinning Ebon to the wall begin to stretch out. They won't last much longer.

"Everyone has to die eventually," Alari says, posture straight except for her left shoulder, which is sagging somewhat.

Ebon grins, flashing white teeth against gray-green skin. "Not me." Kylan's pink-red energy bonds snap at the same time a one-armed figure appears in the doorway, silhouetted in the light that streams from his hand. He holds a sword in his one hand, but it is not just any sword.

"Nav?" Alari breathes, blinking in disbelief. "Nav, what…what are you—" she stops and almost drops her dagger when her hand starts to glow, the Triforce of Courage shining up golden rays that bring out her silver eyes. Ebon smiles a sharp, metallic smile as the Triforce of Power lights up along with Wisdom and Courage.

"Alari, catch!" Navin yells, and he hurtles the sword through the air and lands in Alari's grip, the purple hilt and golden jewel standing out against her dark gloves. She stares at the sword in shock, then raises her head to look first at Navin, and then at Ebon.

The smile drips from Ebon's face just like the blood that drips down his torso. "You little peasants," he spits, his face contorting in rage. "You don't know when to give up, do you?"

"No," Alari says, and points the Master Sword at him. "We don't."